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loveinhawkins · 1 year

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Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 ao3

Joyce drops off Will, El and Mike with more homemade food after they’ve had dinner, which makes Steve smile.

“Tell your mom I’m not gonna have enough space to put all of this in the fridge.”

“You can just eat some of it and then you will have space,” El says, matter-of-fact, “like what Eddie is doing.”

Eddie pauses in his eating of Koogle chocolate spread straight out the jar.

Steve laughs loudly.

Eddie sighs, leans into the melodrama of it. “Damn, right for the jugular. Haven’t I suffered enough?”

El makes a show of thinking in response. Eddie watches her with infinitely growing fondness, how she fights to keep a straight face, unable to stop her smile from breaking through. “No.”

Eddie slumps against the counter like he’s just received a fatal blow.

“Hey, person without a cast,” Steve says dryly, “help put some stuff away, this isn’t a hotel.”

“I dunno, Harrington, you seem like the type to have monogrammed dressing gowns and shit.”

The tips of Steve’s ears turn a damning red.

Eddie pounces on the sight with a delighted grin. “Oh dear god.”

“Eddie—”

“Holy shit,” Eddie whispers, like he’s found the Holy Grail. “I was just talking out my ass man, but. You do.”

“Only ‘cause Robin—it was one joke Christmas present, all right?”

“Yeah, that’s what they all say.”

They all make short work of putting the food away, but the kids linger in the kitchen, like they don’t want to say goodbye just yet.

It’s funny, Eddie has distant memories of Hawkins characterising Will Byers as a quiet little kid when he went ‘missing’, but there’s hardly any of that shyness now. The only slight hint of uneasiness Eddie can discern is that every so often, Will’s hand will rise up as if to scratch the back of his neck, like he’s hardly aware that he’s doing it; he spots El catching his hand in hers once, gently pulling it back down—does it in such a way that it never draws attention.

If anything, Mike is the quiet one, which is tripping Eddie up; he’s so used to his vocal commentary at Hellfire. He can’t tell if it’s just general post-nearly end of the world exhaustion or—something else. He doesn’t know what.

From the way Mike is standing, shoulders occasionally hiking up to his ears, Eddie gets the feeling that he doesn’t want to be asked about it.

Will does the majority of the talking, spends most of the time making references to what went down in California that Eddie can barely follow, revels in teasing Dustin about Suzie—

“Wait, Henderson’s girlfriend is real?” Eddie says.

Dustin glares at him. “Hey!”

Steve nods seriously. “I know.”

Dustin spins around, pokes Steve in the side. “Hey.”

Bizarrely, this prompts Will into an enthusiastic rendition of NeverEnding Story, which makes Dustin groan as if he’s been plagued with it for centuries. But there’s a celebratory sound to all of it, to the way Will sings cheekily, even the way Dustin is rolling his eyes—like they can’t believe they can afford the time to just be silly.

Under the cover of the kids’ laughter, Steve leans forward in his seat, catching Eddie by the wrist.

“Hey, later could you—would you mind helping me up the stairs? I wanna…” He pushes back his hair, grimacing. “Got, like, a sink wash in hospital, but it wasn’t that great.”

There’s a self-conscious air to how he speaks, how he keeps fiddling with flyaway strands of hair.

“Yeah, man, no problem,” Eddie says, matching Steve’s lowered volume. Still look good to me.

They wait until they’re alone—Dustin leaves in Joyce’s car, too, with a firm, “I’ll be back,” flung over his shoulder; Steve snorts, “Sure thing, Arnie.”

Once they conquer the stairs, Eddie’s shoulder aching from Steve needing to lean on it, Eddie optimistically believes that the rest will be plain sailing from here.

Steve’s set up on a stool, and Eddie’s standing in the bathtub, about to see how far the shower-head can stretch.

Steve is in the middle of saying, “Oh, just watch out, don’t think I changed the temperature from when I last—”

Eddie’s elbow catches on the dial. He shrieks as he’s immediately hit with a blast of cold water.

“Jesus Christ,” he wheezes, finally managing to switch the shower off. His hair is sopping wet. “How am I the freak? What kind of monster takes a cold shower willingly?”

And Steve laughs so hard that he nearly falls off the stool, as if the light-heartedness of the kids earlier has lifted his spirits, made him giddy.

“You look,” he says, through a raucous fit of giggles, “like a drowned rat.”

“Excuse me? Oh, tread very, very carefully, Harrington,” Eddie says, raising the shower-head in warning.

Steve raises an eyebrow coolly. “You’re bluffing.”

Eddie is, in fact, not bluffing.

“Oh wow.” Eddie makes a low whistle, like he’s just discovered a rare antique. “Why isn’t this behind glass? This shit is history; it should be preserved.”

Steve blinks, gives him a sardonic look from where he’s lying on the bed, leg propped up with pillows. “Pretty sure I’m not the only person to own a Hawkins Phys. Ed T-shirt.”

Eddie scoffs, shaking out the shirt with a pointless flourish before putting it back in the closet. “Yeah, but you, like, wore it.”

“Oh, sorry, I misunderstood you, man. So I’m the only person ever to wear a Hawkins Phys. Ed T-shirt.”

“You know what I mean, asshole.”

Before Steve got round to actually washing his hair, they had spent a lot of time just goofing around, trying to soak the other. While attempting to ensure that it was a fair fight, that Steve didn’t overbalance on the stool, Eddie ended up nearly braining himself on the tub’s faucets—but maybe he really did suffer a head injury, he reasons, otherwise there’s no excuse for what he says next.

“You made it part of your whole thing, you know? Like, yeah, people wear clothes, but you wore outfits.”

Steve laughs, rolling his eyes. “Shut up. You’re making me sound like a sitcom character.”

“Oh, but you were,” Eddie says, grinning with the knowledge that he’s about to be very annoying. “Did you see yourself in the school corridors? You walked like you had your own theme music, man.”

“Says you,” Steve retorts. “I think a laugh track would’ve helped your cafeteria sermons.” And before Eddie can attempt a theatrical gasp of offence, Steve points at a baggy sweater in the closet. “Hey, gimme that one, it’ll do.”

Eddie actually puts some effort into properly aiming the shirt when he throws it, but Steve almost drops it. Eddie turns, ready to tease him, because Steve Harrington is hardly known for fumbling a catch, but stops when he sees the stricken look on Steve’s face.

“What is it?”

“I just—I just remembered,” Steve stutters out, eyes wide. “Shit, Eddie, I’m sorry. Your vest.”

Eddie stares, uncomprehending. “Come again?”

“Your vest. Damn it, I didn’t even think to ask for… they must’ve cut it off me or—”

“Oh, Jesus,” Eddie says, and the hair on the back of his neck stands on end. He shakes his head to try and clear it of the awful image they must’ve cut it off me conjures up then says, with fervour, “Steve. Don’t worry about it. Like, honestly, truly? Do not worry about it. I really can’t stress how much I don’t give a shit.”

Steve frowns, clearly still unhappy about it.

“I’ll just steal one of your polos and call it even.”

Steve smiles weakly; Eddie still counts it as a win. “Mm, I have it on good authority that the Phys. Ed T-shirt is highly sought after.”

“Damn, what idiot said that?”

Eddie turns while shutting the closet, glancing over at Steve as he does so. That’s when he sees it, sees Steve’s bare skin as he takes his shirt off, about to change into the sweater—

There’s no bandages wrapped around his middle anymore. They have healed faster than any normal wounds should, but that fact doesn’t diminish the way Eddie’s stomach lurches at the sight: the gouges in the skin from the bats, and several deep, ragged claw marks. There’s a sudden ringing in his ears; the wetness of Steve’s blood on his fingers…

He feels his knee slam against the bed frame distantly, like it’s happening to someone else. Then Steve’s hand is wrapped around his wrist, and he’s thrown back into his body, and he tilts—

“Hey, hey, you’re all right,” Steve says, and he pulls Eddie down to sit on the bed.

Eddie sways, tries to stand up again—but that just makes the sudden faintness worse.

“Woah, take it easy,” Steve murmurs, and Eddie blinks and blinks until his face swims into view, eyebrows drawn in concern. “God, you feeling okay? You went white.”

“You were bleeding,” Eddie says stupidly. He squeezes his eyes shut, tips his head down and just breathes.

And then he feels Steve gently guide his hand to rest over the wounds. Places it there, puts his own hand on top.

“Not anymore,” Steve says simply.

Eddie traces the marks. They don’t feel overly cold which helps. His hand rises and falls with every breath Steve takes.

Steve keeps his eyes on him, doesn’t let go of his hand until Eddie can stand again.

Steve has already drifted off to sleep on the couch when the phone rings.

Eddie picks it up with a quiet, “Hello?”

“E-Eddie?”

At first, Eddie doesn’t recognise the voice on the other end. It’s only when his name is repeated that the realisation hits.

It’s Mike.

Eddie has never heard him sound so uncertain, not even when he was first invited to sit at Hellfire’s lunch table.

“Hey, Mike,” he says, can’t stop a note of anxiety bleeding through. “What’s up?”

“It’s… it’s Nancy,” Mike says. He starts off almost reluctant, as if he’s worried about breaking some sort of sibling code by mentioning her, but the sound of his true fear quickly overrides that. “She—she left, and she told me she was gonna, um, call you, or something? I don’t know, but she… she’s not back yet and I… I don’t think she did. Call you.”

“She didn’t,” Eddie confirms, grabs a piece of his hair and pulls.

Mike’s voice pitches a little higher; he sounds very young. “I don’t know where she’s gone. Eddie, she didn’t even take her car.”

“Okay, okay.” Eddie’s eyes dart about the room, land on Steve’s car keys. “Hey, Mike? It’ll be okay, man. I’m gonna go get her.”

He heads for the door in a mad dash, one arm through his leather jacket. Before he goes, he takes the time to write Steve a note—if he wakes up, Eddie figures that there’s no point in him just sitting there alone, worrying, so he settles for something that will hopefully make him laugh instead.

Back soon. Totally not stealing your car. Cross my heart. On an unrelated note, I took your car keys. -E

He finds her at the trailer park, of course. Sitting right by his and Wayne’s place, in the spot where…

She’s hugging her knees, pressing the side of one cheek into them. Her boots are muddy again.

Eddie gets out of the car with more noise than is strictly necessary, so she’s not startled by his approach.

“This wasn’t the deal, Wheeler,” he says mildly, sitting down beside her.

She’s shivering.

Eddie tries very hard not to look at the trailer; it’s just a shell now, it’s just…

“Sorry,” Nancy says, too quiet. “I was… gonna call but. Lost track of time.” She sniffs, mumbles into her jeans, “Had enough of driving.”

“Why?” Eddie asks carefully.

“Because.” Nancy sniffs again. “I had to drive Jason Carver around town.”

For a moment, Eddie forgets how to breathe.

“What? Why the fuck would you even—? He could’ve—”

He stops talking abruptly as Nancy shakes her head, looking scarily calm about the whole thing.

“No. He would’ve killed you immediately. Not me; he’d have to think about it before he… It was… a calculated risk, I guess.”

Eddie barks out a sharp, fearful laugh—remembers Steve saying that him and Nancy were too similar and thinks yeah, no fucking kidding.

“Wheeler,” he breathes, “that was a stupid move.” It feels inadequate for what he actually means, which is some panicked stream of We’ve come too close to losing people, but the terror cuts down his words, makes them small. Stupid.

“He had a gun,” Nancy says, voice flat. She hovers a hand over her side, and Eddie doesn’t need to see it to know that there’ll be a mark there, from where the gun was pressed into her skin.

“Jesus Christ. Are you—”

“I’m fine. He didn’t…” Nancy sighs. “He didn’t do anything, really. I did most of the talking. Just… drove around. Stopped in a parking lot, right where one of the cracks… It’s still visible, only a little bit. Then I just. I asked him.”

“Asked him what?” Eddie says hoarsely.

Nancy’s smile is grim. “If he believed it,” she says. Her voice is as cold as steel. “If he could honestly sit there and think that a boy, that you could have done all this. And I could tell from his eyes that he didn’t, but that he was in too deep. Too cowardly to…” She seethes, spits out the next words: “I told him he could go rot.”

“Wheeler,” Eddie whispers. “God, please tell me he didn’t hurt you.”

She reaches for his hand. Squeezes. “No. I promise. He’s… everything’s being dealt with. It’s bigger than you,” she says, not unkindly. “Plus there’s—we’ve got some, um.” A tiny smile, a proper one. “Unique resources. It’s getting buried, Eddie, I swear, everything to do with you. I’m—we’re working on it. We just. The idea is to, um, replace one paranoia with another, that’s how we sell the—not a full lie, just…” She sets her jaw. “I don’t want you to be looking over your shoulder, ever again.”

Eddie has countless replies on his tongue, namely, What the fuck does all that even mean?

Is this why he’s hardly been given a second glance in the street?

Out loud, he says, “That… sounds like a helluva lot of work. You—you don’t have to—”

“I needed to.” Nancy smiles weakly. “That was the whole plan, right? Find Vecna, kill him. Clear your name.” Her smile falls. “I don’t like… I don’t like things being left… unfinished.” She sighs, repeats, voice small, “I needed to.”

It sounds different this time. Like if she didn’t have that objective, she’d fall apart.

It throws Eddie. How can he be that important? But he looks in her eyes and can tell she means it with all her heart.

“Eddie, I…” She looks down at the ground. Briefly presses the back of her hand to her mouth. “I need to apologise to Steve. To you.”

Eddie stares at her. “No, I’m… kinda confident that you don’t.”

“No, you.” Her hand starts to shake in his. “You don’t understand.” She looks at him, eyes filled with tears. “I saw it. I saw everything. When he—when Henry showed me… there was so much of it, and it was so fast, and I. I just convinced myself that I was wrong. But then, when I saw you driving. And Steve. There was… this look on his face. And I knew—I knew he was going to die, because Henry… he showed me what he was going to do.”

Eddie can feel himself pale. Nancy withdraws her hand, turns away from him.

“I’m sorry. I thought I could stop it, if I just kept it in my head, it wouldn’t… oh, God.”

“Wheeler. Wheeler, look at me.” Eddie waits until she does, her face wet. “It wasn’t your fault. None of it.”

She moves forward, trembles in his arms. “God, Eddie,” she says, distraught, “it was awful. The whole thing.”

“Yeah.” Eddie leans his head against hers, shuts his eyes. “Fucking sucked.”

“You wouldn’t stop screaming,” Nancy whispers. She jerks her head over to where Eddie parked Steve’s car. “You fell there, and I—I was so scared you wouldn’t get up again. I told you that you had to let h-him go, and it. It was like you couldn’t hear me, and a-all I could think was I’m going to lose them both.”

Eddie inhales. Exhales. She’d gotten him out. Time for him to return the favour.

“Nancy. Come on.” He gently guides her to stand up. “Time to go home, ‘kay?”

Mike’s waiting outside when Eddie drives up to the house; the headlights illuminate him, his too short dressing gown, his gangly teenaged vulnerability.

Nancy fumbles with the car door handle. Sighs through a sob. “Oh, Mike.”

Eddie watches them embrace, how they cling to one another. He sees Mike raise his hand while still holding onto his sister, sees him mouth Thank you.

Eddie doesn’t pull away until they’re both safely inside.

The fact that he’s driving Steve’s car helps him keep it together for the rest of the drive: the thought that he cannot be seen in public having a breakdown in it.

And then he’s back at Steve’s, and Steve is still asleep, thank God, and there’s an uncontrollable tremor to his hands when he sets Steve’s car keys on the table.

Shit, is he going to throw up? He might.

Oh no you don’t. You’re not waking Steve by upchucking onto the rug, get it together.

“You’re fine,” Eddie says, tugging harshly on his hair. “You’re fine, you’re fucking fine.”

He forces himself to breathe in and out as the wave of everything crashes over him, until he no longer sees the trailer park flash across his vision, like a ghostly afterimage.

When the worst of it is over, he perches on the arm of the couch, then carefully hovers his hand near Steve’s face, just so he can feel him breathing.

See? He’s right here, you’re not… not back there. Not anymore.

Steve stirs very slightly at the movement.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Eddie whispers, still catching his breath through the remnants of panic.

Steve makes a soft, questioning noise. And then Eddie feels a finger, tracing letters on the back of his hand.

OK?

Eddie smiles tremulously. “Yeah, I-I’m… I am now.”

Eddie stays up all night.

It’s not so bad, not when he gets to see Steve wake up for his early morning meds, taken so he can have breakfast with the upcoming dose in a few hours.

“Huh? You’re never…” Steve yawns. His hair is soft from being air dried last night, falling into his eyes. “Never up this early. Not normally.”

“First time for everything,” Eddie says, which is easier than my heart was beating too fast to sleep.

Steve doesn’t call him out on the obvious dodge, still drowsy, growing even more so after he takes the pills.

“You bored? Can put something on if you want, but Dustin might’ve left a… a tape in the, um…”

Oh, there you go, Eddie thinks fondly, and watches as Steve falls asleep mid-sentence.

Some time later, he’s not sure when, the sun starts to poke through the curtains. It’s a dull kind of brightness, but still bright enough to make his eyes blink a little more… and more…

He’s been moved to lie on the inside of the couch. Eddie turns his head, feels the warmth of someone next to him. Steve.

“Hi,” Steve says, looking down at him with a smile. “You want some breakfast? Dustin dropped off doughnuts.”

There’s sugar at the corner of Steve’s mouth, like glitter.

Eddie hums, low and lethargic. “Maybe later. Just… mm.” He goes to rub at his eyes, but his hand stills then falls away from his face, a lassitude to his movements. “Five more minutes. Gotta… rest my eyes, just for…”

“Sure,” Steve says, and there’s affection in his teasing when he says, “You go ahead and ‘rest your eyes’ for a few more hours.”

“Mm…”

“Nance called,” Steve says, soft as anything, like he doesn’t want to wake Eddie if he’s already fallen asleep, but still wants him to know. “She’s okay. She says thanks.”

Eddie reaches out, eyes closed, pats Steve’s knee clumsily. “S’good.”

“Yeah,” Steve says, quiet. Eddie can feel him smoothing hair off his forehead, tracing his finger down his nose—makes it impossible for him to even try opening his eyes.

He barely catches it, nearly drifting… But he swears he hears Steve murmur, as if to himself, “You’re so good.”

“You’re warm,” Eddie mumbles without really meaning to.

Steve chuckles, so gently. Keeps stroking that soothing pattern, from Eddie’s brow down to his nose. “Am I now?”

Oh, you don’t know, Eddie thinks, and everything’s fading now, the world going all soft and indistinct, like cotton wool. You don’t know what it was like. I never want to feel you be that cold again.

#the self sacrificial steve agenda #steddie fic #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #nancy wheeler #eddie and nancy #nancy and mike #mike wheeler #eddie and mike #steve and nancy

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havecourage-darling · 2 years

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Firsts: The First Conversation

AO3 link || Part 8 of 12 (each chapter is a standalone)

<< The First Argument || Masterlist || Meeting The Family >>

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female Henderson!Reader

wc: ~4.1K

warnings: none it's all fluuuff

A/N: Hi! So, just because a few people have asked -- this will probably be my last firsts post before Volume II drops. Whatever ends up being canon, I’m sticking to this timeline in firsts lol (@marvel, catch me ignoring most canon there, infinity war who?) I might get to a request before Friday but, not super sure yet! Thank you, thank you for your lovely comments!

See you guys on the flip side!

Dipping the wooden spoon into the pot on the far left, you brought it to your mouth and nodded to yourself. It only needed a little more salt. The timer at the top of the shelf buzzed, indicating that the cookies in the oven were done. With practiced hands, you slipped on a pair of oven mitts and pulled the tray out. Flicking the fire lower, you paused to twirl at the chorus of the familiar melody coming from the radio a few steps away.

The loud buzzing sound of your doorbell echoed throughout your apartment and you blinked. Glancing at the clock above your small table, you couldn’t think of who’d be passing by. The door buzzed again and you grumbled.

“I’m coming!” You shouted, using the dish towel to wipe the remnants of food off your hands. Padding over to the door and stretching up to check through the peephole, you laughed.

“Did you lose your keys again?” You asked, barely keeping down your teasing grin.

Eddie stood at your door, a large bouquet of lilies in hand and an equally big grin to match. “I’m here to pick up my fiancé have you seen her?”

“Yeah, sorry, you just missed her. She ran out screaming when she saw the pile of laundry you forgot to do this morning,” you said, leaning your hip against the doorframe. Eddie’s eyes glinted and you reached for the offered flowers. “Are these a sorry for the laundry? Because if so, you owe me like five of them.”

Chuckling, he shook his head. “I told you this morning I’d do it tonight but you don’t remember because you were blissfully half-conscious. Some of us had early shifts today,” he said, walking in. Watching him as he puttered around, he shoved his boots off by the door, placed his coat next to yours, and finally tossed his socks onto the growing pile of laundry – that you were both ignoring in the hallway. “Besides, it’s your fault I hardly got any sleep.”

Mock outraged, you whirled around, vase in hand. “How is it my fault?”

His brow rose and the corner of his mouth rose into a smug little smile. “You know what you’re doing to me when you wear that black thing to bed,” he said, walking over to the kitchen counter and leaning onto it. “You know I can’t resist you. In anything you wear really. So, it’s actually always your fault. In fact, if you want…”

You knew he was joking but there was some truth in it. In your defense, he’d been travelling for gigs the two weeks prior. You always felt a little insatiable the week of his return.

“What are the flowers for?” You asked, ignoring his triumphant look.

“I saw them on my lunch break,” he said, “they reminded me of you.”

You glanced over at him and saw his earnest expression. Something soft in your chest yawned awake and your heart tripped over itself at the sight. “Eddie…they’re beautiful, thank you.” You leaned over to kiss him. “Dinner is almost done, are you hungry?”

“It smells amazing,” he said, setting the table as you put the flowers in water. “I’m still going to beat you tomorrow.”

You and Eddie alternated on who cooked dinner, both of you getting strangely competitive on who could impress the other more.

“Aw, it’s nice to have dreams and aspirations,” you teased, laughing when he shot you a disgruntled look.

Grabbing two forks, you settled into the seat across from him and groaned when you sat. Eddie’s eyes raked over you suspiciously. “What’s wrong?”

“My stupid ankles,” you said, rolling the aching joints, and Eddie sighed. Reaching for them, he placed them onto his lap and rubbed the delicate skin softly. “I tripped too many times running from monsters in the night.”

“You need to get that looked at,” he said sternly, eyes lighting up at your joke anyway.

You snorted. As if you had time for that. Eddie’s band had new concert dates you needed to help organize, you had a big gallery coming up in California that you’d need to travel to – Steve’s graduation was soon. “I will, eventually, we’re busy,” you stressed, digging into your plate. “Oh, Munson, you’re going to have a hard time topping that.”

With an eye roll, he took a bite and you saw the pleasure flash across his expression before he managed to school it into a neutral one. “It’s alright,” he joked, squeezing one of your ankles to keep you from kicking him. “Okay, it’s great. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Hiding your triumphant grin behind your sip of water, Eddie pinched your calf. You jolted, glaring at him. “Don’t be a sore loser,” you said, sticking out your tongue.

“Don’t be a sore loser,” he mimicked you, flicking a crumb your way.

Ignoring him, you took an exaggerated bite. “So, I was talking to Steve today,” you said, pushing a vegetable over to his plate.

“What’s Harrington up to?” Eddie asked.

“He said he’d come by next weekend with that record he found for you,” you smiled, “said that he didn’t want to be anywhere near us this week.”

Eddie laughed, eyes coming up to yours knowingly. “Gareth said the same thing,” he placed a piece of bread onto your plate, “apparently we’re still insufferable after all these years.”

“Five years, huh?” You said, chewing thoughtfully. “Did you think we’d make it this far?”

“Yes,” he said, without any hesitation and taking another bite. Grinning, you shook your head at him. “What? I did. I knew it from the first time we met.”

“We met in elementary school,” you reminded him.

Eddie sighed. “Yeah, but that’s because everyone in Hawkins went to the same elementary school. We didn’t know each other until high school.”

“The Halloween dance?” You furrowed your brows.

“I mean, technically we had spoken before that,” Eddie said. “The first time was on the football field outside, sophomore year.”

Sophomore year? Wait, wasn’t the first time you both had a real conversation as freshman? Ecstatic that you had something over him, you brought a hand up to clutch at your imaginary pearls and gaped at him. “Oh my God, you don’t remember when we really spoke for the first time.” Over the years you’d come to realize how fun it was to be over the top dramatic with Eddie. Perfect for moments of gloating.

Narrowing his eyes at you, Eddie shook his head. “This is going to be really embarrassing for you, princess,” he said, eyes glinting.

Fuck, did you love this dumbass and his smug little smiles.

“Oh really?” You said, leaning your chin onto your palm. “Please, by all means, tell me.”

Eddie grimaced as the scrape across his hand bled sluggishly. He flexed his fingers, watching the skin stretch as he did. It was his fault for not looking – he’d tripped running outside and managed to catch himself on the wall. The brick had torn his palms but he’d barely noticed at the time.

He was hiding from Jason Carver’s posse. There was no shame in running and he’d escaped their clutches when they tried to corner him twenty minutes ago. He was sure they’d give up and go home since they weren’t going to find him here. Lucky for him, he always parked his bike in the back. Soon, when he got his permit, Wayne would let him get a car.

Caught up in his thoughts, leaning against the bleachers behind the fence on the football field, Eddie felt his soul leave his body at the sound of footsteps.

“Eddie Munson?” A voice timidly called out.

Who the hell was that? Eddie frowned. That voice was definitely too high for it to be a jock’s.

A wide-eyed looking girl popped out from behind the next section of seating and waved, unsure.

“Yeah? Who’s asking?” He asked.

He knew you, where did he know you from? He recognized you quickly enough to know you’d probably gone to school together but there was something else. Narrowing his eyes, it hit him a moment later. He’d seen you around with that Harrington guy – another sophomore who’d gotten welcomed into the popular crowd with open arms. Basketball players.

“Henderson?” He guessed, not entirely sure.

A pleased look erupted on your face and you nodded. “Steve told me he saw you coming in this direction?”

Eddie froze. Shit. If he’d been seen by that baby jock asshole in the making the others would follow soon enough.

“Did you need something from me?” He asked, impatient.

“Yeah.” Darting your eyes around the open field nervously, Eddie had to fight a laugh. You looked completely out of your element.

“Are you going to tell me what it is?” He teased, shaking his hair from his eyes.

Eddie watched your eyes light up, the spark in them completely transforming your face. “If you give me a second,” you huffed, hand disappearing into your backpack. Eddie’s eyes stayed on you; curiosity peaked. What did a popular wannabe want with him?

“Sorry,” you said, sheepishly when you seemed not to be able to find what you were looking for. Dumping your bag onto the grass, you pulled several things out and Eddie felt his jaw drop.

“Is that a D20 die?” He asked, taking a step forward.

You stilled, hand still in your bag. “A what?” You asked, looking confused. Glancing around the ground at your belongings, you pointed to the pair of dice lying on top of a notebook. “This?”

Eddie nodded.

“No, well yes, I think,” you said, smiling lightly, “that’s my brother’s. His name is Dustin – him and his best friends love that game. He left his dice at Nancy’s and she gave it back to me this morning. It’s his favorite set, I got it for him last Christmas.”

“Do you play?” He asked, intrigued.

“God no,” you laughed and Eddie felt his interest in you tank. “Dustin has tried so many times but I don’t have the mental capacity for it. It’s too much to keep track of. I always end up dying like two seconds into the game.”

Eddie was trying to think of what to say to that when you popped a hand out with a few folded bills. “Found it! Sorry, Steve just shoved it into my bag and I carry a bunch of stuff.”

Suddenly it all made sense. You wanted to buy from him.

“Holy shit, I was thinking the world had upended itself,” Eddie laughed, reaching into his own bag. “I thought I was losing it there for a second.”

“What? Why?” You asked, zippering your bag up.

Eddie snorted, tossing you a bag. “Why anyone in Harrington’s circle would deign to talk to me,” he said, laughing.

You clearly didn’t – find it funny that is. Eddie watched your brows furrow and your arms cross. “I’ve never even spoken to you before, why would you think that?”

“Everyone’s judging me without really knowing me, why wouldn’t I do the same?” Eddie snorted, counting the bills. “Here, I can give you a discount for the trouble.”

Surprising him again, you shook your head. “Harrington has enough money, keep it,” you said and then did something that shocked him. You smiled. It felt like someone had kicked Eddie in the shin, knocking him off balance. Huh. You had a nice smile.

“Well, if you insist,” he said, pocketing the money quickly. The sounds of footsteps had Eddie pulling you to the ground, ducking behind the cover of the bleachers.

“Who are you hiding from?” You whispered, head popping out next to him.

“The basketball team,” he snorted.

You frowned. “Why? What did you do?”

Eddie whirled to stare at you. “Right, because I had to have been the one to invoke their anger,” he sneered.

Surprising him a third time, instead of recoiling like he thought you would, you rolled your eyes. “Oh, get off your high horse,” you huffed, “I know most of them are assholes but you had have pissed them off. I saw Carver and Smith walk past me like twenty minutes ago with deflated basketballs.”

“Okay, so I accidentally popped their stupid balls,” Eddie said, huffing a laugh at the double meaning. What? It was funny.

“How did you even – you know what, I don’t want to know.” You sighed. “Did you need a ride?”

Eddie almost snapped his neck from the speed in which he turned to you. Were you joking? Was this a trap to deliver him to them?

“You have a car?”

“Not yet,” you said, “I’m like another three months away from having enough. My mom said I can have my dad’s car but…I wanted something else.”

“So, a ride from who?”

“Steve,” you said, tone flippant.

Eddie laughed so hard he almost choked. “Yeah, okay. Me getting a ride from Harrington. That’s a good one Henderson.”

You rolled your eyes. “You can’t hide out here all afternoon.”

“Of course, I can,” he said, getting comfortable. “Now go on, we have a deal well struck.”

“Alright,” you sighed, standing and dusting grass off your legs. Eddie let his eyes stray to the curve of your hips and down your legs for a second before darting away. “Don’t say I never offered.”

“Tell Harrington if he wants to send you for all our future deals I wouldn’t object,” he teased, eyes lingering on yours for a second too long.

You turned around, hair shining in the sun and grinned at him. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You said, eyes twinkling, before disappearing through the parking lot.

Well, that was interesting.

“I actually did forget about that,” you admitted, smiling at the memory. “I thought you were staring at my ass.”

“Aha! So, I am right,” he said, stupidly handsome smug smile growing, “and of course I wasn’t. I was staring at your legs.”

You snorted and crossed your arms. “Not even close.”

“What? You just said-”

“Freshman year,” you spoke over him.

“What?” He cried out.

“Drama classroom, afterschool. You were looking for a place to hold Hellfire Club and I was there helping organize the next meeting for the Drama Club. I was crying…” you watched as Eddie’s indignant expression morphed into something resembling a wince.

He threw up his hands and shook his head. “In my defense-”

“Excuses, excuses.”

You angrily wiped the tears from your face. Sinking down to the nearest chair, you pressed your forehead against the cool desk.

The classroom was quiet. The whole school was quiet. Only a handful of teachers stayed past afterschool and you knew that no one would come into the drama room. All of the club members went out for milkshakes after practice.

It was only because of that fact, that you let yourself start to cry earnestly. Your sobs echoed pathetically in the silence. Your breath came too quick, getting stuck in your throat, and making your chest heave with an ugly sound.

Steve and Nancy knew that it was your birthday soon. They were both badgering you for what you wanted to do but you’d insisted on just going to the movies. They were your friends – and you’d made new friends in the Drama and English clubs, you just wanted to spend time with them.

Tommy, the younger brother of the captain of the basketball team, heard you and cornered you after Steve had left. He’d shoved you into the locker, tripping you so that you slammed your temple into the door on the way down.

“We’re on our way to the top, Henderson, you’re just a stupid nerd who’s dragging him down. What a fucking loser. Who would want you around?”

His laughter bounced in your head, burrowing deeper and deeper until it had found a permanent home.

“Harrington will wake up one day and realize you’re just a fucking poser. A charity case. A crybaby with a dead dad.”

The words had hurt, because no matter how quickly you jabbed back at them – no matter how high you titled your nose up at him - his words always managed to pierce through. You hated how they managed to plant a seed of self-doubt. The fact that you gave them that power. But…a part of you wondered also – why was Steve still hanging around you?

Because he’s your friend! Your mind supplied. He has been since you were toddlers.

Yeah, but was that enough?

“Oh, shit, sorry I didn’t realize someone was in here,” a voice said, startling you. Straightening, you didn’t try to hide your tears. You took after your mother – whenever either of you cried, your entire face puffed up and there was no hiding it.

“Drama Club finished twenty minutes ago,” you said, through your tears.

The boy, you realized, with wide brown eyes and short shaggy hair shook his head. “Oh I – uh, wasn’t looking for the Drama Club. Or well, I was looking for Mrs. Collins.”

“Oh. She left.”

“Right, yeah, I see that uh – I was looking to start a club and we need somewhere to practice,” he rambled, eyes widening with every sniffle, “and my science teacher said the Drama room was empty after four…”

“It usually is,” you said, blurry vision glancing around the empty room.

“Yeah, I see that, um…I don’t know if you know this but you have a pretty bad shiner on your forehead,” he said, stepping closer to you.

Fingers automatically went up to the small bump that had formed after Tommy had tripped you.

“Are you okay?” He asked, his hands clasped in front of him. “Uh, I’m Eddie. Eddie Munson.”

“Oh. Hi, I’m-” your voice cracked and your face crumpled.

“Okay, okay, it’s okay,” Eddie said, voice panicked.

“I’m s-sorry,” you stumbled over your words, turning your back to him. How fucking mortifying. Not only did you not stand up for yourself, you couldn’t even cry about it alone.

“Hey, you don’t need to be sorry,” his voice went soft, “did someone…do this to you?”

“I tripped,” you said quickly, not wanting to sacrifice anymore of your dignity.

Eddie nodded, coming around your chair and crouching down before you. “I’ve tripped before, usually by the basketball or football team,” he added softly, “so trust me, I get it.”

Saying nothing, you bit down on your lip and tried to will your tears to stop.

“You don’t have to tell me, I just want you to know that whoever did or said something to make you upset, they’re likely going to end up balding, pathetically alone, and with like, fifty cats. Okay?” Eddie said, ducking to catch your gaze. “You look smart, you’ll probably end up like president or something. I’d vote for you.”

You laughed wetly, your eyes meeting his.

“There you go!”

Shivering, you shot him a small smile and pointed to the desk at the far back. “If you leave her a note, she’ll read it in the morning when she comes in.”

“Who?” Eddie said, looking around.

“Mrs. Collins,” you laughed quietly at his confusion.

“Oh, right, duh,” Eddie said. You started to gather your books, making sure everything was put away when you felt a warm, soft sweater drop onto your shoulders. Eddie’s black t-shirt was thin, his arms bare, and you shook your head.

“It’s okay-”

“I’ve got my jacket in my locker,” Eddie insisted. “You can leave it on Mrs. Collins’ desk and I’ll pick it up tomorrow after school. You look like you need it.”

You burrowed into Eddie’s sweater, his scent calming you. His arms were hovering awkwardly but you didn’t care. He wasn’t judging you and you were cold.

“Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

His responding smile warmed you from the inside out. “Don’t worry about it.”

If he minded that you ended up keeping the sweater for an extra week before returning it, he’d never said anything.

“I can’t believe I totally forgot that. I thought you were so cute and I was kicking myself for not asking for your name.” Eddie smiled at the memory, shaking his head. “That poor sucker didn’t know what was coming for him.”

“Creatures that go bump in the night, murder charges, and a music career?”

“No, well, yes,” Eddie relented, “I meant, meeting the love of his life.”

“Ah,” you nodded, “that girl you met junior year at the Hideout? She sounded lovely. Sara? Beth?”

Eddie’s fingers pinched your leg and you squeaked. “Smartass,” he said, laughing.

“What I am, is right,” you reminded him, “we were, what? Fifteen? God, Tommy was such a shithead.”

“You know, it’s rude to always be right all the time,” Eddie said, huffing. “I don’t know how I didn’t remember you at the football field. You’d cut your hair but – I should’ve remembered you.”

“We both had a lot going on in those early days – actually, all of high school was kind of a chaotic mess,” you said, laughing. “I don’t know why you still question me. I’ve got a steel trap memory.”

Eddie snorted. “Says the woman who forgot our four-year anniversary.”

“It was a stressful time for me!” You said, defensively. He’d really never let you live that down.

“I was on tour and I still remembered,” Eddie said.

“Alright, climb down from your morally high ground, it was one time,” you huffed, waving a hand in the air.

Eddie laughed softly, reaching across the table and took your left hand in his. You watched as his thumb caressed your knuckles softly, his finger coming to a stop at the diamond ring that had been a recent addition. It was a family heirloom, one of the last things Wayne had of his grandmother. You’d almost insisted that he keep it for himself but he and Eddie had looked so emotional at the sight of it on your hand that you couldn’t help it. It looked like it belonged on you from the moment he slid it onto your finger.

“Technically, our anniversary isn’t until tomorrow,” Eddie said, “but I want to give you your gift tonight.”

“If you say something sexual, I’m going kick you-”

Eddie burst out into laughter and shook his head. “Is your mind always in the gutter? I swear people really don’t believe me when I tell them I have to beat you off with a stick.”

“Oh, poor you, your girlfriend wants to have sex with you all the time,” you teased, “I’m glad to give you break if that’s what you’d like.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” he said, narrowing his eyes.

“Try me,” you said.

You both stared at each other, daring the other to make the first move. With practiced movement, you immediately jumped to your feet, shrieking when he lunged for you. Laughing, you ran circles around the living room before darting down the hall. Eddie’s hands gripped your hips and you both slammed into your bedroom door.

His eyes were sparkling, his breath fast from running, and his hand came up to cradle your cheek. “I’m always going to catch you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Because I let you,” you whispered, smiling at his eyeroll.

Eddie shook his head, reaching behind you to turn the doorknob. “Oh look, our bed is right there.”

Biting your cheek to keep from smiling, you shrugged. “What a coincidence.”

“Hmm,” Eddie hummed, lips coming to your neck. “Would you look at that.”

“And you had the audacity to point the finger at me,” you said, hips twitching when his thigh came up between your legs. “I have to beat you off with a stick, my ass.”

“You know I can’t resist you,” he said, voice deepening, as he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to your neck.

Before you could sarcastically quip anything, you both lost your footing and tumbled towards the ground. Groaning, you felt your hip throb at the impact. “Clearly, we’re both still just as smooth,” you said, laughing. Eddie joined you, both of you shaking with a hysterical type of laughter that only spurred the other on more.

“I’m going to pee,” you warned him, wiping tears off your face.

“Okay, okay,” he said, trying to stand but tripping on the rug and landing on the bed face first.

“Oh my God,” you giggled, throwing your elbow across your face, “we’re hopeless.”

Eddie’s head popped from the bed, hair disarrayed, and a wide grin on his face. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

You smiled, laughter still bouncing around in your chest, love for him bursting from every nerve in your body – like always.

“Me neither.”

A/N: also! I've been asked a few times -- I will be writing something covering S4 with this Eddie and this reader! I'm also taking requests (tentatively) if anyone has any!

#eddie munson x reader

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gonzo-rella · 2 years

Text

C Story | Abed Nadir

MASTERLIST | AO3 | KO-FI

Requested by: Anon

Hi! I’ve read all of your Abed ff and I love them! The way you write Abed makes it feel like it’s something he’d actually say/do!! My request is if you could do a ff where it’s break time at Greendale and y/n is in the cafeteria watching a movie (your choice) and through the reflection of the screen they see Abed staring at their screen watching and they confront him, I’m not sure what would come next😂 but hopefully y/n meets the study group and Abed and y/n become good friends (or partners in the future) you can play around with the idea as much as you’d like :)))) tytytytyty!

Relationship(s): Abed Nadir x gn!reader (romantic)

Summary: When watching Cape Fear in the Greendale cafeteria, you catch one of your classmates watching along with you.

Warnings: None! (Let me know if I need to add any)

Word count: 0.7k

(A/N: It feels like I haven’t written for Community in ages, so I’m really looking forward to writing for it (and Abed, my beloved) again. Sorry that this is on the shorter side, but I thought this idea would be better left at this length. Also, if you’re wondering why I chose Cape Fear of all films, I just randomly scrolled through my Letterboxd and thought ‘eh, that’ll do’ (plus it kinda fit).)

ALSO: Shameless self-promotion of my little Trobed vignette/ficlet on AO3. I’m only promoting it here because this is the first Community thing I’ll have posted since then (which was a while ago, admittedly).

With your earphones in and your volume turned up, you were blissfully unaware of your surroundings in the Greendale cafeteria. Absentmindedly, you chewed on a curly fry, resting your chin on your palm as you stared at your laptop screen. You flinched at a sudden loud noise in the movie, though you had anticipated that happening when you were watching a movie called Cape Fear.

The screen darkened, meaning you could see yourself and the things around you in the cafeteria, something you expected.

What you didn’t expect was to see the reflection of Abed Nadir (someone from your film class) also staring back at you.

“Holy crap!”

Hitting pause on the movie, you jumped and turned around. Abed was sat at another table that placed him behind you, sat with his legs stretched over two chairs as he craned his neck to the side to look at the screen. His elbow, helping his palm prop up his chin, was resting on the back of his seat.

“Abed!”

“Hi.” he greeted casually.

“Looming over someone’s shoulder’s the last thing you do when someone’s watching a movie like this.”

You stared at him for a few seconds when he didn’t say anything back, then sighed.

“That can’t be comfortable.” you stated.

“Not really,” Abed answered. “But at least I can see the screen.”

You knitted your brows. “How long have you been watching?”

Abed glanced at how long the movie had been running. “Around 8 minutes and 12 seconds.”

“You know that’s totally creepy, right?”

“I get that a lot.”

You chuckled, and he smiled faintly.

“So, uh, why aren’t you sitting with your friends?” you asked, using your head to gesture over to where Jeff, Annie, Britta, Pierce, Troy and Shirley were sat. You quickly looked away when you noticed Britta staring back at you.

“I’m not part of the A story. Or the B story.” Abed shrugged.

“So...are we in the C story?” you questioned.

“Yep.” Abed nodded.

“Oh. Cool.”

You smiled.

There was a moment of silence between you two, leaving only the chatter of the cafeteria. You removed an earphone from your ear and held it in front of him. He took it, his fingers brushing against yours. Before he could put it in his own ear, you quickly stopped him.

“You can...sit next to me instead of watching it from there. I mean, if you want, of course. You don’t have t-”

Before you could finish, Abed handed you the earphone back and climbed over from his seat to the vacant one beside you. You looked up at him, knowing full well that, if you looked anyone else, you’d see first-hand the confused stares Abed received. He grabbed the earphone from your grasp once again, pushed it in his ear and turned to flash you a small smile.

You stared back at him blankly, your smile delayed.

“Are you gonna unpause, or should I?” he said.

“Oh, right, yeah.” you responded, grinning sheepishly. “Sorry.”

You turned back to the screen and unpaused.

Later that day, the Study Group was sat around their usual table, their textbooks out in front of them (though none of them, bar Annie, intended to actually open them).

“So, Abed,” Annie began with a beam. “We saw you talking to Y/N from your film class.”

Abed looked at Annie blankly without replying. Annie’s expression morphed from one of glee to one of confusion.

“What is it?” Abed questioned, cocking his head to the side and mirroring Annie’s expression.

“You didn’t respond to what I said.” Annie answered.

“You didn’t say anything for me to respond to.” Abed countered.

Annie huffed. “We-”

“I think you mean you.” Jeff corrected, not looking up from his phone. Annie sent him an unimpressed glare.

“Okay, fine, I-” She forced a smile onto her face as she looked back at Abed. “Was just wondering if...maybe there was something there?”

“Like what?” Abed asked.

“Like...Do you like them?” Annie clarified.

“Yeah,” Abed shrugged. “I guess so. They’re cool.”

“Do they like you?” Britta chimed in.

“Maybe.” Abed hesitated. “They invited me over to their dorm to finish the movie.”

Britta smiled, while Annie grinned, squealed and clapped (something that Shirley joined in with).

“What movie is it?” Troy questioned.

“Cape Fear.” Abed replied, a faint smile on his face. No one could tell if he was smiling about you or the movie. “They said we can watch Fatal Attraction after, too.”

Annie, Britta and Shirley exchanged a bemused, slightly disturbed look.

“How romantic.” Jeff quipped.

#abed nadir x reader #abed nadir x gn!reader #abed nadir #x reader #x gn!reader #x gn reader #x gender neutral!reader #x gender neutral reader #annie edison #britta perry #troy barnes #jeff winger #shirley bennett #community #Community NBC #one-shot #romantic

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iwadori · 3 years

Text

Haikyu Boys neglecting you for another girl PT 1 (Kenma)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Word count: 1.3K

Genre: angst,fluff

masterlist

Kenma:

You go over to your boyfriend ,Kenma’s, house every weekened to play on your shade survival minecraft world

But one week you were too cramped to come over one week so you missed out on a gaming session

At school the following week you heard Kuroo and the guys teasing Kenma over a new found gaming friend

But you payed no attention

Now you’re done with your exams and ready to continue on w/ Kenma on fighting the enderdragon and building up your world

You get to Kenmas house an hour after finishing your school club, upon entering you hear him button smashing upstairs (per usual) but something not so usual was him giggling with laughter...

Kenma.Your stoic boyfriend Kenma. giggling..

Because of your confusion you slowly go up the stairs as his laughter ensues making you more perplexed ‘kenma barely talks to people that aren’t Kuroo and me, especially someone who makes him laugh this much’ you think to yourself.

“Ella, i’ve found the stronghold! Just follow me” Kenma exclaimed as you entered his bedroom “Yes Ella you have to press X to jump” he laughed again

‘Ella, who’s ella’ you think. You hear a response on the other end but you can make it out properly. Kenma and ‘Ella’ continue on speaking making plans on what they’re about to do next.. with Kenma not noticing you came into his room yet. You look at the TV and notice that Kenma is playing with someone else on YOUR world that you started which made you slightly agitated.

You purposefully drop your bag a tad too aggressively, but that seems to work as you catch Kenmas attention as he turns to you for a split second as he mumbles quitely “Oh hey babe” before swiftly getting engrossed again into the game.

Annoyed, you sit on next to him on the bed waiting.. JUST WAITING for some proper acknowledgement to which you received none. You just sat there mindlessly scrolling through your phone as he continuously talked with Ella AND coached her through killing the ender dragon (a plan that you and Kenma said to do together since the beginning of your minecraft survival world idea)

After almost an hour of just sitting there idly, you decide to get up pick up your bag and leave. Hoping just hoping that your ‘oh-so great and caring’ boyfriend would take off his headset and stop you from leaving. But this isn’t a movie of course... so no Kenma did not run straight after you pull you into his arms and comfort you. He stayed in his room laughing away with Ella putting you at the back of his mind.

You go straight home and cry still wishing for a follow-up text on the incident that happened at Kenmas but no response there.

Luckily for you, it was half term break meaning there was no school for a couple weeks so you didn’t have to face the awkward confrontation or lack thereof with Kenma at school. But it was unlucky for you since usually every half term and weekend you’d spend at Kenmas but obviously now you can’t.

You do wonder if he’s thought about texting or calling you to reconcile or even just thought about you at all. You desperately wanted to reach out to him, but with your relationship you do feel that you’re the one that always has to start the conversation after you’ve had a ‘falling out.’ So all you do is wait ( assuming that you’ve broke up or something for now.)

The two weeks of break has ended and now you’re back at school waiting to face the music. The whole day, you felt anxious waiting to bump into him in the corridor or see him at lunch but you never did.

Later that day you get a message..

Kuroo: Hey y/n! How have you been ??

Y/N: Fine.. i guess

Kuroo: How are things with Kenma

Y/N: Tbh I don’t really know, we haven’t spoken since the weekend...two weeks ago I don’t think we’re together anymore..

Kuroo: Y/N don’t say that you and Kenma are definitley how do you spell deathfinetly? still together just meet him today at the arcade at 8pm and ALL WILL BE REVEALED

Y/N: okay....

Kuroo: DW Y/N! It’ll all be fine

Nervous, you get changed (making sure to look extra cute because this may be the last time you’ll have the title of ‘Kenma’s Girlfriend’ :(( ) You arrive at the arcade and look around for a second before spotting Kenma at the race car game (where you had your first date) and it looks to you he is hiding something behind his back..

When you reached him he looked very shy (even more so then usual) and you were about to speak before he shouted

“Y/N!” he said cringing at the volume of his own voice “ I need to tell you something, more like show you..”

You stood before him with your arms crossed silently tapping your foot waiting on him to continue. Surprisingly, he brings in front of you a little girl who looked about 8 or 9 with a very very cute face.

“n-n-nice to meet you” she bowed in front of you a blush covering her face

“Y/N this is Ella” Kenma said “My new step-sister”

You were shocked to say the least Kenma having a new sister that was great but didn’t answer ALL your questions. Judging your facial expressions Kenma led you and him to sit down letting Ella go on play (as you obviously watch her close-by)

“Okay, I know you’re probably confused but Ella is ma’s new boyfriends daughter and that time you came over my house was my first time ‘meeting’ her so instead of doing it physically I thought the best thing to do was to play minecraft with her and as I was so focused on that I kinda sorta forgot about our usual dates and over half term I went over to hyogo were Ella and her dad live for the break to meet them officially I’m sorry very very very sorry Y/N for not contacting you i just assumed you were mad at me ... which you still probably are now so i understand if you want to break up and i-” Kenma stops hearing you slightly chuckle looking exasperated after all that rambling.

Thats the most you’ve ever heard Kenma speak in one go ever and you thought it was endearing that he has a new sister. Of course you were mad that your boyfriend that he neglected you for weeks but you were definitley over that and wanted to just continue on with your life with him.

Kenma stared at you expecting some form of response and all you did was stand up, go to him and pat his head.

“You’re so cute kenma” you said “Of course I was mad, but i get it now”

“So are we still boyfr-”

“Miss Y/N” asked Ella looking up at you awww how cute “Are you and nii-chan boyfrined and girlfriend”

Kenma and Ella both stared at you expectedly waiting on your response (Kenma more than Ella)

“Of course he’s my boyfriend sweetie!” You said ruffling her head and you hear Kenma sigh in relief “Let’s go play some games now come one Kenma”

You hold Kenma’s hand as Ella runs ahead of you

“Also Kenma..” you let go of his hand “You let her play on our world..seriously”

Kenma awkwardly rubs the back of his neck and chuckles

“I’ll make it up to Y/N dont worry “ he said

And he did do that indeed, as it seems over the break he built a mansion for you and him and reset the end so you complete the ender dragon with him. But you did also include Ella in on your world now and you and her got closer to the point where she will call you nee-chan.

Authors Note: how do you feel about the ending ?

I hope this is well, I’m not that used with Kenmas character so i hope i wrote it good and you like it! Please give me comments and feedback and my request are open so send in your request please!! Also this was meant to be a part two to my ‘taking a prank too far’ but i kinda wrote this in a different direction

#haikyuu x reader comfort #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu-fluff #kenma x reader #kenma headcanons #haikyuu angst #kenma kozume #haikyu #haikyuu scenarios #haikyu headcanons #haikyu fluff #signedwithane😌

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2-cute-4-school · 4 years

Text

𝘕𝘊𝘛 𝘋𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘭𝘢𝘱 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺'𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘰 𝘨𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴

Mark Lee

so we all know mark is a quite expressive person with his emotions

and come on when playing video games we all rage and throw fits so emotions are running especially high ‎(ﾉಥ益ಥ）ﾉ ┻━┻

what i’m trying to say is that mark is yelling, banging fists against his desk, laughing his ass off and pissing you off

i mean mark’s laugh is very cute and ENTIRE BLESSING TO HEAR but ♡ sleep ♡ is also precious

but mark can’t hear your exaggerated sighs nor see your ever-lasting pout

so you lift your tired self from the bed and plop down on his lap

mark : “hUH??¿¿ B-BABE?!¿¿” （＊〇□〇）……！

haechan, audible through the headphones: mark, not in front of the boys, you wild beast (๑⁍᷄౪⁍��๑)

mark opens his mouth to shout in protest but you bury your head in his shoulder and let out a soft whine and mark.just.COMBUSTS!!!

he grumbles something about how haechan is due for a good beating and nuzzles the side of his face against the top of your head ♡(.◜ω◝.)♡

whenever he has a break and doesn’t need both hands to play, he brings one arm around you, cuddling you closer to himself and running his hand along the length of your spine

or just LAYS HIS HAND ON YOUR THIGH askfafwsr- ya know (˵ ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°˵)

doesn’t have the heart to break the atmsophere even after he shuts down his computer and just cocoons you in his warm arms and hums a song softly as you doze off intertwined together UwU

Huang Renjun

you’re just trying to be cute and create a romantic enviroment as you cuddle up to your boyfriend who is immersed in his game

“y/n?” his voice is soft, almost a hush and it could almost lull you to sleep

“yeah?” ෆ╹ .̮ ╹ෆ

“i can’t see because of your head”

FIRST HIT HOME but you didn’t give up of course, just flattened your cheek against his shoulder to accomodate his complaint

just as you settle downs drowsily, glued to his frint, he covers his mic to grumble to you again ಠ╭╮ಠ

“it’s getting hot”

SECOND HIT HOME and you’re starting to get discouraged as you scoot a little further away from his body and loosen the grip of your hands around his neck (๑′°︿°๑)

but of course ever grumpy renjun still had complaints karen who

“my legs are falling asleep”

*SIGH* “eye roll* *definetely not pouting* you start pulling yourself away from him and trudge defeatedly and bury yourself under a ton of blankets

but he just chickles, has the AUDACITY to chuckle, and brings you back on his lap, squeezing the life out of you (≧д≦ヾ)

“i was just kidding babe don’t leave me!!” says renjun as he sways you kinda violently may i add from side to side and rubs his cheek against yours cuz he’s a kitty and adorable confirmed ε=(｡♡ˇд ˇ♡｡）

rough love you have other there as you can see

Lee Jeno

jeno is GENTLE GIANT （ﾉ｡≧◇≦）ﾉ

gentle loving giant in this case actually so even better

so we all know how the dreamies exposed this boy TWICE for playing video games 25/8 and he got scolded by his mum lol so i’m thinking

you’re trying to get him to go to sleep or at least rest his eyes he’s already blind enough i WONDER WHY damn

all this started when you settled in front of his computer to block his view

and as he argued with you he decided enough is enough and pulled you into his lap, traping you against his chest (╬ Ò ‸ Ó)

“jeno it’s 3 am!!” :<

“ just one more round baby” of video games ya nasties...no? only me?ok

he tries to give you a *smooch* but you move your face away and refuse to turn around and let him kiss you

and that’s where jeno draws the line (; ･`д･´)

kithes are something that can’t berefused between you two, an unspoken rule you apparenly weren’t aware of

so with a ‘eep!!!’ from you, he simly stands up from his seat with you latched onto him like a koala like (＾ω＾ ≡ °д°)

“jeno put me down!!!11!!1! NOW!!”

“kiss first” (.◜ ᵕ ◝.)

“are you nuts??!!!?” *exaggerated smooch* “now put me down!!”

needless to say he’s not letting go anytime soon, he just plops into bed and you cuddle until you fall asleep you’ve been scammed

Lee Donghyuck

haechan is a very VERY petty brat person ಠ_ಠ

so guess what... fights with him are a national competition of petty acts

and you know what his ultimate move in your most recent fight is? *drum rolls* turning off the central heating really original hyuck i applaud you

and this kid knows exactly what he’s doing when he sits down in his gaming chair with a shit-eating grin (ง ͠ ͠° ل͜ °)

he hears you stumble around the house in your dora the explorer exploration in the search of a blanket

but guess what? they’re all under his flat cake ( ✧≖ ͜ʖ≖)

so when you bardge in the room and find him hogging all the warmth you hope to intimidate him with your ✨ highly horrific glare ✨

but he pretends to be too busy to notice you so you just defeatedly settle on his lap and under the blankets

“well well well look who’s crawling back with their tail between their legs”

“i might just cut off your front microscopic tail” (눈_눈)

but i just know he’s gonna cuddle you until you sweat your ass off under that mountain of blankets

and even when he can’t hold you, he’ll press his lips against your forehead, lingering there as his warm breath fanned across your skin

he also made a deal with you to which you didn’t necessarily agree with but that’s a minor detail am i rite

if he wins the round he gets a kiss as a reward (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧

if he loses, he gets 2 kisses as a consolation (ฅ⁍̴̀◊⁍̴́)و ̑̑

you’re getting suspicious of his 4 consecutive losses

Na Jaemin

he’s a fluff ball we all know it, we all love it

he’d DIG THAT KIND OF SHIT ٩̋(ˊ•͈ ꇴ •͈ˋ)و

and he babies you to the end of earth

99.8% chance that he’s gonna stop playing just to cradle you against his chest properly because YOU’RE. HIS. BABY!!! periodt.

cue yelling from his teammates for abadoning them in the middle of the game but that’s inevitable

“na jaemin you SIMP!!!!”

but jaemin is too busy making puppy eyes at you (●♡∀♡))ヾ☆*。

he’d kiss you everywhere he could reach and then scoop your hands in his and bring them to his lips for another shower of kithes (*'､^*)chu

and if you kiss him back??

this man will literally COMUST with uwus istg

like just imagine you brush your lips against his neck and then you gently nuzzle against him??

jaemin would melt in your embrace ♡(｡- ω -)

even if he did eventually go back to playing, he’d press kises anywhere in reach periodically cuz he’s soft like that

would also LOVE feeling your breath fan his neck he gets a unique feeling of comfort knowing that he has you so close to him (๑˃ᴗ˂)

“even if you were the impostor i’d still vote myself out for you”

the romanticism of this decade

Zhong Chenle

this boi is ruthless when playing video games

god frobid you’re in his way cuz you’re getting SQUASHED (｢⊙Д⊙)｢

he obvioulsy LOVES winning

but ya know what he loves more than winning???

𝓨𝓞𝓤 ♡(㋭ ਊ ㋲)♡

so chenle is all (｡+･`ω･´)

“you waste of space move along!!!!” “shoot that gun straight dammit or i’ll shove it up yo- oh hey baby°˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°“

the moment you plop down on his lap and curl yourself up with your head tucked under his chin, his blazing eyes soften so cutely

and so raging kid chenle turns into best babyboi chenle (*•̀ᴗ•́*)و ̑̑

he M E L T S like he just leans into your touch and continues gaming A LOT more silently and just smiles absent-mindedly the entire time

“yo chenle you dead????” most likely jisung on the other side of the headphones

“no?” ｢(ﾟ<ﾟ)ﾞ??

“... guys he’s plotting something, reatreat!! i repeat, RETREAT!!!”

“what?? no, what do you mean by that !??!!!”

you stir as his voice rises in volume and chenle immediately settles down again and shushes you while patting your heah and threading his fingers through your hair carefully (*-ω-)

goes straight for jisung after that teammate or not rip jisung you’ll be missed but also bad choice to annoy a soft-for-only-my-baby chenle

Park Jisung

a bit flustered but just couldn’t refuse you when you cutely asked him with wide puppy eyes if you could sit in his lap to watch him play

probably short circuited for a good 2 minutes before he could produce and intelligible answer (ง ´͈౪`͈)ว

and that’s how you found yourself perched on his lap, facing the screen with curious eyes as jisung struggled as if his LIFE depended on it

“how do you jump?” (,Ծ_Ծ,)

“you can’t jump”

“what do you mean you can’t jump?? gravity doesn’t work like that” Σ(･ิ¬･ิ)

you’re like 2 newborn babies running wild and unsupervised

“jisung, that character looks like you when you’re constipated” (๑꒪▿꒪)*

cue cackling from the devil spawns on the other side

he’s gonna keep in mind this betrayal UNTIL THE END OF TIME beware

if you catch sight of one of his hands not working away i bet my allowance you’ll have this uncontrollable urge to hold it in yours DO IT I NEED MY ALLOWANCE DON’T BE SHY

of course he’ll automatically intertwine your fingers together and bring them up for a chaste kiss ～(^з^)-♡

and i know for sure that he won’t have the heart to let go of it even when he needs it to play sigh jisung you SIMP

he’s gonna get scolded and teased by the other later but ya know

at least he ain’t no touch starved coward ¯\(°_o)/¯

he gets grounded for that by jaemin

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violettelueur · 3 years

Text

— ITADORI YUJI + FUSHIGURO MEGUMI + INUMAKI TOGE || ADMIRING THEM

↳ featuring : itadori yuji + fushiguro megumi + inumaki toge from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : grammar issues

↳ form : headcanons

↳ published : 06 april

↳ pronouns : non specified in headcanon

↳ request : I'm so excited that you're open! Okay, can I request yuji, megumi, toge, and miwa(if you write for her, if not then you can ignore that or choose someone else) catching their s/o staring at them super lovingly. I'm talking the look in their eyes is super tender, they've got a soft smile, and their expression is just super loving and a soft pink as if their staring at the only thing in the world in that moment. This idea came to like 2 days ago at 3 am, and I haven't stopped thinking about it. Thank you!

↳ barista’s notes : so little rant here...i pre-ordered volume 0 and 8 since feburuay...it is now april and where the hell are my manga books? ALSO I DON’T NEED TIKTOK PEOPLE TELLING ME THEY GOT THEM WITH THE ‘IS YOU MAD THAT I’M RICH’ AUDIO...MAYBE LET ME HAVE THE CHANCE TO GET THEM WITH THE LAST REMAINING MONEY FROM MY LAST PAYCHECK SINCE I GOT NO JOB NO MORE BECAUSE OF COVID AND SCHOOL ʕノ•ᴥ•ʔノ︵ ┻━┻.....other than that, i hope you enjoy your cup of classic black coffee and you are welcomed back anytime soon ʕ≧ᴥ≦ʔ

When Itadori finds you staring at him, it’s most likely during when he was laughing at a movie scene that you both were watching (well..him not you) or when he was playing a game.

You can’t help but look at him with so much love since when he laughs or smiles, it’s like the most precious thing in the world - like something you want to keep safe and sound.

Itadori will look at you back for a few seconds before asking what you are staring at with a smile of his own - I don’t see him being a shy person, he’s quite open to everyone he has met.

“What are you staring at?”

“Nothing, I just really love you”

I feel like he is emotionally intelligent, so when he notices the soft tender look in your eyes as well as the soft smile that is displayed on your face - he will find it really adorable.

He doesn’t say it but he is greedy for your attention, so the fact that you are staring at him the way that you do, makes him really happy because he lowkey does the same look at you.

After the little staring contest, he will place a lot of kisses on your face and just hug you really tightly in his embrace - to convey that he loves and adores you as well.

Cuddles will be given to you because Itadori will be in such a state of happiness that he can’t help but just hold you.

He will always announce that he loves you as well because the whole world needs to know apparently.

When Fushiguro catches you in the act of staring at him, he will give you a weirded out look before looking away in the opposite direction to hide his blushing face from you.

It was probably during the time when he is just randomly scrolling on his phone or when he is reading a book and you are just laying your head on the table while staring at him.

After he thinks his blush is gone (it hasn’t) he will turn back to look at you and ask what you are looking at in an irritated tone - he isn’t by the way.

“What? What are you looking at?”

Just hold his face and say that you love him - it will be game over for him because he will look down to hide his face once again.

“You’re so pretty, I love you Megumi”

He will quickly retreat and hide his face in the crook of your neck because he’s just really embarrassed/shy at how you are able to make him break with just a tender and endearing look on your face.

The fact you are softly smiling at him as well makes his nonchalant self break down even more since he can’t help but love the way you look at him.

You will hear him mumble that he loves you as well, but it’s a bit difficult since his face is literally smushed because he doesn’t want you to see him.

Just play with his hair as well as a little kiss on the cheek and that should help him calm down for a bit.

When Inumaki notices that you are staring at him, he will just stare at you back for a good few minutes because like...he can’t say what he is thinking.

It was most likely during when he was watching a Youtube video - because it is now canon that he likes watching them.

I don’t know why but when he said “konbu” (it means hi, like hi there, why are you staring at me?) it’s quite funny because it breaks the silence of the staring contest you both were having.

He will notice the soft look that you have and will just stare into your eyes because he can see the amount of love you have in your eyes for him - to Inumaki, you look so in peace with him.

Inumaki is very lucky that he has a school jacket that covers half of his face because he does have a light blush painted on his cheeks right now.

When you say to him, “I love you so much, do you know that?”, Inumaki will have the brightest expression on his face - okay like I have heard no one talk about this...but Inumaki’s purple eyes are so beautiful...so beautiful.

Inumaki will give you a closed eye smile and will zip down his collar to show you his cute smile since he wants to show you that he is really happy that you told him that.

Inumaki will put his phone away and proceed to give you a few kisses on your cheeks while hugging you close to him because he finds you so cute that you said that.

After the lovey-dovey attention that you have been getting, Inumaki will just snuggle close to you and turn his phone back on to watch the video, but now it’s his turn to stare at you with the same look of love and endearment that you had for him.

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mggpleasedontlookhere · 3 years

Text

no matter what it takes

summary: y/n is kidnapped, and for once reid can’t think of a solution

inspired by this request: Hiiiii! I absolutely love your writing it’s so amazing! I was wondering could there be a storyline where your all working a case (the reader is dating Spencer) and have a lead and you go to the suspect’s house and while there you get kidnapped when back at the BAU the team is trying to work out how to get you back and they get a ransom vid of you getting beaten (dark I know) so they all have to work faster and they find you but while you're taken can we see it from like Spencer’s POV and his thought process on your being gone. Anyways they find you and you’re like drugged majorly injured you wake up in hospital Spencer’s there and it’s fluffy at the end.I know that’s rough but I really love your writing and hope this is ok x

word count: 2,331 reading time aprox: 8 mins

a/n: to whoever requested it, i kinda didn’t follow your format or ending. i’m really sorry to disappoint you, but i was writing the plot one way, then suddenly it took a turn. i hope you still enjoy it!

masterlist

Spencer’s POV

My eyes scanned the words in front of me, Charles Dickens displayed in between my hands. I hoped my thoughts would wander more as I explored the novel, taking my mind off of the case I worked previously.

Out of the blue, two soft hands appeared on my knotted hair, massaging the scalp tenderly. ��Are you settling okay, my love? How was the case?”

I exhaled deeply, setting the book down beside me as I guided my best girl to my lap. I cushioned her to my side, nuzzling my nose into her shoulder.

“That bad, huh?” Y/N sympathized, trailing her fingers at the cut of my chin. I nodded into her, taking in her calming scent. She smelled of fresh daisies in the summer and the first layer of snow in the winter.

I lifted my head from hers, bringing my arm around her shoulders to pull her closer to me. I sighed in relief as a wave of calm brushed over me. “We were too late...we couldn’t get to one of the last hostages before the unsub.” I shook my head, taking her hand in mine. I examined the daintiness of her fingers, chuckling softly as I placed kisses upon each of them.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she whispered, nuzzling into me as we enjoyed each other’s presence. “Did you catch the unsub?”

“No...he got away last minute,” I sighed, running my hand over my face. “This unsub likes to make things personal. He only killed the last victim to mess with us.”

Silence infiltrated the conversation before it dived into the dark details of the case. The combined sounds of our breathing created a tranquil environment, lulling us to sleep with every second passed.

“I promise you Y/N...”

The shade of grey that covered the walls of the BAU prevented agents’ minds from meandering from their tasks. This proved quite effective in intended circumstances, although the caveat was the consequence of a disconcerted mind.

The film cast over my eyes exacerbated the existing burn from staring into space for too long. Although the sensation was unmatched for the void that consumed me from the inside. My limp fingers twitched beside me in a rhythmic pace, reminding me that this was real. My feet felt heavy against the granite tiles of the office, barely able to hold up the rest of my stature. I felt my muscles sag underneath my weight as the feeling of emptiness flooded from my torso to the knuckles of my hands.

“You be careful, Y/N!” I teased, watching as my lover’s silhouette disappeared into the elevator.

“Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone!”

I shook my head, amused at the incessant Marvel-themed references that had been thrown my way since our last movie night. “How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.”

I hissed as I felt my nails dig into my palms. I hadn’t realized how hard I’d been clenching my fists until I looked down to see blood trailing around my nail bed. Shaking my head, I cleaned off the evidence against my slacks, watching it seep through the material.

“Guys?”

My head shot up to find Penelope typing away at her computer. Her brows were crossed with worry and her eyes would flicker frantically between her four monitors. The rest of the team seemed to follow me to her station, gazing with anticipation at what she discovered.

“What do you have Garcia?”

“I-um. I’m picking up a satellite feed somewhere in Danbury, Connecticut,” she spilled out, her fingers shaking over her keys. “Ther-there’s a livestream that just went active two minutes ago, an-and it’s...there’s-oh my god.” Penelope pushed herself away from her screens, tearing her eyes away as her face grew hot.

“Reid. Out.” Hotch demanded, not taking his eyes off the feed in front of him. JJ moved beside him, further blocking my view of the monitor. Her face contorted in shock and disgust, similar to the expression Garcia beheld moments ago.

“What...why?” I questioned, taking steps forward to investigate, but was ultimately stopped by Morgan. A coil wrapped around my insides, getting tighter with every breath that I took. The sides of my forehead began to warm up with a disorienting blaze, traveling down my eyelids. The fire followed down to the pit of my stomach, sending an uneasy chill down my spine.

“Kid…” he whispered, shaking his head in caution.

“What…” I breathed, feeling my cheeks swell up. Morgan couldn’t meet my eyes--none of them could. “God, it’s my girlfriend. I deserve to know where the hell she is,” I huffed, pushing past Morgan. Although the words were launched back into my esophagus, turning into bile that burned away at my pride.

A high-pitched ringing echoed and bounced around my head. My ears thumped with a resonating drum, overwhelming my senses. Every sharp intake of air felt like ice shooting up my nostrils, and every exhale felt like fire to my lungs.

Y/N was hunched over in a chair with braces around her wrists and ankles. Her beautiful hair was matted with dirt and blood, sticking to the sides of her face. Her skin was painted with a mixture of sweat and grime, hiding the usual radiant glow of her skin. Fortunately, the blurry pixels of the video saved me from witnessing the large gashes that ran along her flesh.

A man stood next to her with a Cheshire grin, his pervasive eyes scanning every inch of his work before breaking the fourth wall. He stared at the camera with a joyful gleam, tilting his head as he inspected the lenses.

“Spencer.” I imagined her call out. A phantom chant met my ears, remembering the softness in her voice and the soothing gravity she carried within her words.

“Spencer, stop it!” Y/N giggled, burying herself deeper into our duvet.

“Why baby?” I murmured into the crease of her neck. “We should just stay like this all day. Maybe if we stay long enough we can morph into a chrysalis.”

“Spencer,” she giggled. “Spence…”

“Spence?” JJ empathized, searching my eyes. She placed a hand on the outside of my arm, lingering there for a comforting moment. Although when she realized her attempts were futile, she retracted her arm with a tight frown on her lips. “I know that-”

“The feed is displaying audio now,” Garcia announced with a wavering tone. I slid past JJ, standing my ground next to Hotch as we listened to the livestream. Whimpers echoed throughout the concrete compound she was trapped in. Her body flinched as the man inched closer to her with an object out of view from the camera. The fear in her eyes left a sharp pang in my chest as a burning resentment ignited my bloodstream.

“Stop…” she whispered, pulling away from the man. “Stop...please,” she sobbed. Her face was contorted in anticipation, glancing down at the item creeping towards her. It was only then a glint of a metal object bounced off of the camera, a foreign substance leaking from its tip.

“Stop! Please!” Y/N’s voice amplified in volume as the inevitable came. “NO!” she screamed, thrashing in her seat as the needle penetrated the soft layer of her skin. “SPENCER! HELP!” she cried out, desperation seeping through her weeps.

A suffocating poison ran its course throughout my body, entrapping me in the limited reality of my abilities. I felt my inner conscious thrash against the walls of my mind, begging for an answer, a solution. I tore my eyes away from the screen, my hand unconsciously clawing at the base of my neck. Staggered breaths blocked my airway, and the room shrank under my feet.

I needed to get out.

I let my feet sweep me away from the office, as far as it takes. My back hit the cold wall of the eerie hallway, feeling the chill penetrate through my blazer. I closed my eyes as I banged on my forehead, hoping that the gears would start working, but nothing seemed to bring me assurance.

Nothing could assure that she’ll be okay. I failed her. I failed to assure her that I was going to keep her safe. I failed at keeping her safe. I failed her.

My heart was pulled against my spine, attached tethers tearing it apart in opposite directions. Contractions of adrenaline seeped into my nervous system as her anguished screams left the room silent behind me. It was like gravity had ceased to exist, leaving me floating in a mind-numbing state of desolation.

I failed her.

“I’m always going to love you,” I reassured, tucking in a hair behind her ear as she swung her legs back and forth atop of the counter.

“Really Spence?” she giggled, bringing the spoonful of 3:00 am ice cream out of her mouth, dangling the utensil from the bottom of her plump lips. “Prove it?”

“Darling, isn’t there a tub of ice cream--that I bought--in your hands?” I teased, tapping at my watch. “And last time I checked it’s the middle of the night.”

“Whatever,” she giggled, nudging at my shoulder. My hands traveled to the sides of her hips, pulling myself closer as I inspected the beautiful glow of the moonlight reflecting off of her visage. “I thought you were going to say something cute.”

“That wasn’t cute?”

“Not even close, Spencer Reid,” she mumbled, tapping on the end of my nose before taking my face into the softness in her hands. She playfully scoffed as we inspected each other’s eyes for what seemed like hours. My arms found their way around her waist, melting into her, as I lessened the gap between us.

“What is it?” I whispered, my eyes flickering from her eyes to the pigment on her lips. Closing in proximity, I nudged her into me. But before our lips could meet, a chuckle filled the air and a hand was placed above my chest.

“I...am out of ice cream.” With that, she scurried away to the fridge with a bounce in her step. I shook my head in amusement, whispering to myself.

“That girl’s damn lucky that I love her.”

Frenzied feet inside the office took me out of my daze, but it was the sound of soft steps approaching me that made my shoulders stiffen in anticipation. I collected my composure the best as I can, maintaining a brave face for whoever would walk into the doorframe.

I didn’t even bother to look up to see who it was. The figure’s footsteps halted beside the door frame, leather shoes in my peripheral. Without a moment of quiet, the figure stooped down with its back pressed lightly against the wall. Although despite the thick tension, the figure remained silent.

“You know I don’t always need company…” I murmured defensively.

“I know kid...I know,” Morgan huffed, bringing his hands to his head. “But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have any.” He knocked his knee into mine, slinging an arm around my shoulders. “She’s going to be okay Spencer.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know that she’s strong,” Morgan countered. “You just gotta believe in tha-”

“Don’t- Don’t give me hope like I’m one of the victims we interview. I’m- I’m not a victim.” I nudged his large hand off of me, feeling confined in the big desolate hallway.

“I wasn’t saying you were-”

“But you implied it!” I combed through my hair, my lungs still sore from staggered breaths. “I’m...I’m sorry,” I sighed.

“I said I’m sorry!” I yelled, feeling my throat dry up from the venom dripping from my words.

“This is the third time, Spence. The THIRD time you came home late,” Y/N seethed.

“Who are you? My mother?”

“All I want is to know that you’re safe, Spencer! God! I wait here all day for you, knowing that you’re out there on the field, and something could happen. How does that make me feel?”

“This is ridiculous,” I shook my head, dismissing her ignorance. I headed towards my jacket that I strung up on the coat hanger a few minutes ago, not bothering to take my keys with me.

“Where...where are you going?” Y/N whispered.

I made the mistake of looking back and seeing the hurt present on her face. The apples of her cheeks were stained with tears, and her eyes were glistening with fresh ones. Her lips were parted ever so slightly, still looking plump and soft even in her distressed state.

“To work,” I monotonously replied, turning away from her. I shuffled out of the apartment with anger dominating every part of me, blinding me to the point where I guess I forgot to lock the door.

“I did this.”

Morgan’s head shot up at the utterance of my words. “What do you mean, kid?”

“I left her by herself...alone,” I scoffed. “We were fighting, and I just left her there. God, I didn’t even lock the door.” I rammed the back of my head against the plaster wall, squeezing my eyes tightly. “How can I be so stupid? Stupid, stupid, stupid.”

“Hey, stop that!” Morgan intervened, pulling my shoulders off of the wall. “You didn’t know that this was going to happen…”

“Yes, but I should’ve known, Morgan! Don’t you get it!”

“Spenc-”

“I had one job…” I sighed, the inner walls of my chest collapsing into themselves. “God I...I should’ve known.”

My head fell back into the curves of my palms, my tears shamelessly peeking out of the corners of my eyes. My chest heaved reluctantly, as my heart lurched forward. Heat crawled up my cheeks, combining with the coldness of the tears running down my face.

Morgan’s supporting hand felt like a phantom’s upon the skin of my back, knowing that nothing compared to the innocent touch of my Y/N.

“What is it, Spence?”

“I promise you that....that I’m always going to keep you safe, no matter what it takes.”

taglist: @rexorangecouny @howdycharlie @honeymilk-4 @linthebinbag @andreasworlsboring101 @ssareidbby @kyleetheeditor @tclaerh @jimilogy @lulwaxim @jhillio @m3ssytrash @haylaansmi @meowiemari @ashwarren32 @spencerwaltergubler

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rafael-silva · 2 years

Text

WHUMPTOBER 2021 MASTERLIST

the series can be found here!

DAY 1: trapped | you never know when the wave's gonna break but I'll be there

The fire was quickly eating at the structure of the house, the wood creaked and moaned around Carlos with every step he takes. The team managed to get the parents and son out but the daughter was still unaccounted for. They were running out of both places to look and time. And it’s so hot, the smoke getting heavier and Carlos can feel the heat even through the protection of his turnout coat and his gear, can feel the sweat rolling down his neck and back under his Austin FD t-shirt.

A firefighter!Carlos AU where a collapse during a rescue traps Carlos under a beam, pinning him as the fire gets closer, while TK watches from outside, heart in his throat, praying that it isn’t the day he loses the love of his life. In the aftermath, TK takes care of Carlos, in more ways than one.

word count: 4.3k

DAY 4: taken hostage | a love like ours

A simple trip to the grocery store is turned on its head when TK is taken with no clear motive. APD and the Texas Rangers pool their resources together, racing against time to find TK before the kidnapping tears Carlos and TK apart, as it threatens to prematurely end their future together. And Carlos won’t rest until TK is back in the safety of his arms.

word count: 10.1k

DAY 6: bruises | we carry each other

It speaks volumes of how persistent TK’s danger magnet is. Take today, it was supposed to be a fun day, a relaxing day spent with loved ones while raising awareness on important causes and doing some good. They were supposed to be spending the day together, walking through the beautiful park, holding hands and laughing, carefree after the series of brutally tedious and hectic shifts they worked. But instead, they find themselves in the ER, TK hurt and Carlos worried out of his mind as he waits to see him. It’s not the way Carlos thought they’d be spending their day together.

It should have been a fun and relaxing day spent together after their long shifts. But TK’s danger magnet had other plans when he stepped onto the football field.

word count: 5.5k

DAY 8: “definitely just a cold | leap (I will catch you)

“He’s insisting that it’s definitely just a cold,” TK says, dropping backwards on the couch, holding the phone to his ear. He scrubs his other hand over his face and sighs. “And what do you think?” “I don’t know, it’s just…I can’t shake this feeling that it’s more than that,” TK replies. “It’s been a week, he got better for a couple of days but then he started getting worse.”

It happens so quickly. An accident during a call has Carlos diving into a lake in the middle of the night. TK takes care of him in the aftermath, but they get thrown a curveball during the officer’s recovery.

word count: 4.5k

DAY 10: flare up | you light me up

Carlos visits TK when he’s home from the hospital and helps to calm the storm of thoughts raging inside the firefighter’s head. Carlos’s presence grounds TK and anchors him, as they navigate their developing relationship and dynamic with a few realizations along the way.

Missing scene from 1.09

word count: 2.3k

DAY 16: aftermath | remembrance

TK sighs and runs a hand through his hair, eyes roaming over his boyfriend’s battered figure. “I’m okay, baby,” Carlos continues, his voice has been regaining its strength but there’s still pain etched into his tone. But he’s doing his best to reassure the paramedic. “All of this will heal.” TK nods and starts to move then, gently sitting down on the couch next to Carlos, careful not to jostle the officer’s injured body.

TK takes care of Carlos in the aftermath of an accident. And Carlos takes care of TK, too, in his own way.

word count: 2.3k

DAY 17 AND 21: “please don’t move!” and blood-matted hair | I believe in us (I believe in our love)

TK’s head is buzzing, and his vision a little blurry as he tries to recall what happened. The noises and sounds around him are muffled and he squeezes his eyes shut for a few moments, trying to regain his balance. Then he starts to remember, putting the pieces together. They were at the festival and—Carlos! TK’s worry spikes up and heat crawls up his face when he realizes amid the haze that Carlos hasn’t called for him or looked for him. Carlos was walking right next to him and where is Carlos!

Their first common day off in over a month is spent at a food truck festival, Carlos and TK finally spending quality time together after a series of long and hectic shifts. But their day is turned upside down when an explosion at the festival threatens to tear them apart.

word count: 5.4k

DAY 26: fallen | free falling

A successful rescue is turned on its head when the combination of a strong storm and a ground tremor leaves TK hurt on a call, the team working quickly and efficiently to get him to safety. Carlos holds his breath while he waits to find out TK’s fate, praying he doesn’t lose the love of his life.

The aftermath is filled with comfort and love, with some revelations and heartwarming moments along the way.

word count: 6.3k

DAY 27: vertigo | steady me

Carlos felt the migraine starting about half an hour before he left the precinct. It started out slow, a slight discomfort which kept growing and getting louder until his head was thumping by the time he was leaving. He pushed it to the side, though, focusing on getting home to TK and hoping it would go away or starts to subside by the time they left for dinner.

Carlos and TK’s dinner plans are halted when the officer gets a rough migraine. TK anchors and supports Carlos, in more ways than one.

word count: 1.5k

52 notes · View notes

knivesareout · 3 years

Text

take on the world - chapter one

Pairing: Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, bad jokes, flirting idiots and Tom doesn’t exist.

Summary: A whirlwind romance takes you by surprise when Frankie rescues you.

A/N: Well, here is the beginning of what is going to be a BEAST of a fic. There will probably be around 8-10 chapters in total and I’m already working on the next one (aka where the smut is). I will warn you all that this is going to deal with some heavy subject matter as we go along but I’ll put up proper warnings when they come. I hope you all enjoy and you can read it on AO3 here.

INSPO TAG | CHAPTER TWO

___________

There was a special place in hell for people who set their friends up on blind dates.

This wasn’t your first, or even your fifth, blind date in the last year that you’d agreed to go on to appease a happily married friend. This time it was Jessica’s husband’s co-worker who she’d shown you a picture of and you had wearily agreed, nodding as she told you how great he was.

He was in fact, not great, as he was now 30 minutes late and counting despite the numerous texts you’d sent him.

Thankfully the bar you were currently at was only a quick 10 minute walk from your apartment, a small miracle you were glad for. Surely you could stumble back the couple of blocks to your place if you decided to drown your sorrows in shots of tequila, a couple beers, and maybe a fruity drink or two if you were feeling spendy or particularly sad.

The bar was loud and, of course, overly crowded. It was a Saturday night after all.

Most tvs around the room were playing various baseball games at top volume with the season having only started a couple weeks prior. It wasn’t your favorite sport but you knew enough to keep up, eyes fixated on the Red Sox game just to the left of you.

“Need a refill?”

A cough sounds in your ear and you turn, realizing the question was meant for you. The man who’s taken up residence on the bar stool next to you is waiting for an answer, a distressed ball cap tugged low over his face and you wish you could see him better.

“Oh,” you laugh awkwardly, glancing down at the empty pint glass and back up again. When did you finish that? “Yeah, I mean. I need one.”

The man just nods, motioning the bartender over and he wordlessly clears your glass and sets a new one in front of you as well as one in front of the man next to you.

Muttering a quiet thanks to the bartender, you turn to the man in the cap and smile. “Thanks. Didn’t even realize I’d gone through it so fast.”

The man nods with a shrug of his shoulders, a slight smile on his face. “No worries. You looked like you were sucked into the game and figured I could help. I’m Frankie, by the way.”

Giving him your name, you reach a hand for him to shake- which he does. Rough, calloused hands envelope yours in a tight squeeze before he drops them with a cough.

You realize he must’ve been watching you before, if he knew you were with an empty cup.

Normally that was something you would find creepy because you were clearly alone, or at the very least weird but for some reason it’s endearing on this guy. Frankie. Out of the corner of your eye, you try to take in his features without being obvious, his attention now turned to the same game you’d been watching only moments before.

Dark hair curls outside of his baseball cap, a dimple embedded into his cheek on the right as he smiles. Patchy facial hair covers his jawline, bits of grey catching the light as he tilts his head back to take a swig of his beer and you wonder how old he is. At first you would’ve pegged him around your age, but now getting a somewhat better look he might have several years on you.

“Were you waiting on someone?” He asks, turning to you with his voice raised. A group of men are shouting in the back of the bar near the pool table and you wince.

You nod, downing half of your beer and swiping at your mouth. “Yeah. Blind date. I should know better but I can’t tell people no and he was cute.”

Frankie just laughs at your honesty, “So he just didn’t show?”

“Yep. Never had one that just didn’t show up. Figured I might as well get drunk to commemorate the occasion. Or commiserate. Either one.” You bring your glass up to his and cheers, shaking your head incredulously.

“His loss.”

You turn to Frankie with a raised brow, lowering your glass to watch him slowly check you out. You feel hot all over and clear your throat, teeth tugging on your bottom lip.

“What about you then? Here alone or did you ditch someone?”

Frankie presses a hand to his heart, fake wounded at your jab. “You already think so little of me? I was here with friends but they bailed on me,” he explains. “Saw you by yourself and thought we could both use the company.”

His answer puts you more at ease and you finish off your second beer of the night.

“So, figure I gotta ask. How old are you?” It really doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things but if things are heading in the direction you hope they are, you don’t want to make him uncomfortable if you’re too young.

He seems startled by your question, like it’d never occurred to him to ask and he falters before answering. Did it make him uncomfortable?

“You know,” Frankie starts with a chuckle. “Normally, I’d be offended but I’m not. ‘M 42.”

Nodding, you blow out a breath that you didn’t realize you’d be holding. “Newly 30,” you tell him, bringing your refilled drink up to click against his own.

The age reveal doesn’t seem to bother him, at least from what you can tell. You’d never cursed your age before until now, hoping it hadn’t put him off.

You turn on the barstool to face Frankie, hoping to break the tension.

“So I have just one question for you, Frankie.”

He nods, turning to face you and waiting for you to continue.

You hold up a finger and place it on his jaw near his mouth, the one spot not filled up by wiry grey and black hair. His eyes are wide at your touch and he’s tense.

It was something you’d noticed right away when he sat next to you, your attention drawn to it for whatever reason. His terribly patchy facial hair was endearing.

“Why is this the perfect place for a kiss?”

The way Frankie looks when he laughs makes your heart ache in the best way. He tosses his head back, mouth wide as he tries to contain his laughter. His dark eyes crinkle, nose scrunched up at your blunt question and you retract your hand, satisfied with his response.

“How much have you had to drink?” He manages to get out between wheezing while he catches his breath.

“Couple shots of tequila while I stupidly waited. Two beers now, thanks to you,” you nod at the empty glass. “I might be drunk? It’s hard to tell, honestly. I think I’m fine.”

“So you’re just normally like this?” Frankie laughs, tilting his head. His fingers drum on the side of his almost empty pint glass, something you wonder is a nervous tick.

You push your empty glass away, hoping it’ll get the bartender’s attention and it does. Ordering Frankie another beer and a vodka cranberry for you, you turn back to him. “Guess so. If it’s too much though, I can pretend you never came over here and finish the game by myself.”

“Not what I meant,” he’s quick to tell you. “Just wanted to know what I’m getting myself into is all.”

Silently your lips tick up in a smirk and you start on your drink, turning your attention back to the game.

Over the next hour, you get to know Frankie and vice versa. He’s ex-Army; out for the last couple of years and he’s slowly getting back into the real world. Explains how he doesn’t have any family in North Carolina but all of his buddies live here, so he moved.

Frankie’s a helicopter pilot, giving city flyover tours to people coming in from out of town. He doesn’t love it but he loves flying so it’s enough for him, he tells you. You can see it in his eyes how passionate he is about flying and it makes you grin.

In turn, he asks about you. Normally you wouldn’t give up so much information about yourself to someone you don’t know all that well but Frankie has slowly started to feel like anything but and you feel guilty letting him give you so much only to get nothing in return- so you tell him. Maybe too much. About how your job working at a law firm is the most boring thing, especially when you had no interest in law. Which in turn sparks up his question- what do you want to do? That ends up setting you off on a tangent about your love of photography but how hard the industry is to break into to do it professionally or at the least get paid for it.

“Here, hang on.” You tell him, sliding your phone out of your back pocket and pulling up your Instagram. Social media was, normally, the bane of your existence but you used the app for your photos and nothing else, you tell him. He nods like he understands, telling you he isn’t much better technology wise.

Frankie’s quiet as he scrolls through your feed. He’s slow about it too, clicking on a few to see them bigger, and you bite your lip in anticipation at what he might be thinking. It’s nerve wracking to show anyone your passion and you manage to finish off your drink while he’s still scrolling, waving off the bartender as he asks if you want another.

“You’re fucking talented as shit, you know that?”

His response catches you off guard and you can instantly feel yourself getting warm at his compliment. It feels different, coming from him. A stranger who’s slowly becoming something more.

“You’ll have to let me take your picture some day,” you shoot back, kicking your dangling foot against his.

“You don’t have pictures of people on there though,” he’s quick to point out, handing you back your phone.

“Well no, but that doesn’t mean I don’t. It’s hard convincing people to hike with me is all.” Nature photography was your niche but you could already envision photographing a portrait of Frankie on a mountain with the sun illuminated behind him.

Frankie finishes off his beer and sighs loudly, turning to you with his brows raised. “Well, we’ll have to plan something then won’t we?”

You’d known that was coming and still, your stomach fills with butterflies as he all but asks you out. To see you again beyond this dark, crowded bar that smells like smoke and sweat.

“Definitely.”

Frankie asks if he can walk you home once the bar tab has been paid an hour later- he’s even covered yours too, in apology of your ruined date and unintentionally crashing your plan to wallow in self-pity afterwards.

“I’m just a couple blocks down,” you tell him, pulling your jacket tighter around your shoulders to combat the cool, spring breeze.

“No worries. Can’t complain about getting to spend a little more time with you,” he says cooly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

The line is smooth and cheesy but it still puts a smile on your face, which you’re sure was its intended effect.

You chuckle, turning to him so he can see the roll of your eyes. “Smooth, Casanova.”

Frankie puts his hands out in front of him in defense, scoffing at your jab.

“Cut me some slack, alright. Haven’t even dated a woman in years, let alone spent hours interrupted and talking with one,” he explains, knocking his shoulder with yours.

The little touch is something weirdly intimate and you cough, looking at him with a skeptical eye.

“I find that hard to believe, Frankie,” you chuckle, “You’re a good looking guy. Can even hold a decent conversation. No dates? Really?”

He shakes his head, shrugging. “Wasn’t in the right headspace for it. And now that I am, I just so happen to meet you and who knows. Was it fate?”

You spot the teasing tone of his voice immediately and you shove him lightly as you start to approach your apartment building. “You’re an ass,” you tell him, giggling as you try and pull your keys from your pocket, fingers fumbling and they drop to the ground with a clang.

You both reach down at the same time, heads knocking together and you can’t stop yourself from laughing. Laughing so much your chest aches with it and you can’t breathe, tears pricking the corner of your eyes and you glance over and Frankie’s no better, clutching his stomach as you both sit on the ground around your fallen keys.

“We’re a fucking mess,” you manage to get out between left over laughter and catching your breath.

Frankie lets out a loud breath, trying to calm himself and he nods in agreement. Picking up the keys, he hands them to you and stands, offering you a hand that you gladly take and try to steady yourself once you’re safely back on your feet.

“You alright?” He asks, running his hands over your hair and brushing at the crown of your head. As if he’s inspecting you for any injuries and you hold your breath.

The best you can manage is a nod, eyes flicking to meet his and you search them for any sign that he’s feeling exactly what you are.

He is. Expressive brown eyes that tell you everything you need to know.

Frankie sighs, pulling his hands back from your face and groans. Kicking at the pavement and mumbling quietly to himself.

Has the moment passed? Did you not react how he was expecting?

Turning back to you, he gives you a self-deprecating smile. “We’re drunk,” he explains. His tone is apologetic and you wonder why he’s saying the words if he feels bad about them in the first place.

“Maybe a little,” you agree. “Doesn’t mean I haven’t had, what I’m sure is, a much better date than I would’ve if that guy had shown up.”

You can tell your words mean something to him. It’s like he’s got this loose energy that he doesn’t know what to do with. Like he wants to shout and scream and run down the street. It makes you want to know more about him- what he’s thinking, how he’s feeling.

Bouncing on his toes, Frankie hurriedly pulls out his phone from his front pocket and hands it to you. “I wanna see you again. Put your number in there?”

The phone is old. Flip-phone old and you laugh as you figure out how to program your number in there, adding your name along with a smiley face at the end before handing it back over to him.

“I had a really great time tonight, Frankie,” you promise him, fiddling with your keys. “Thank you for saving me from what was probably going to be a terrible night.”

“Me too,” he agrees, pursing his lips.

It’s like he’s deciding his next move and it catches you off guard when he leans in to press a kiss to your cheek.

Once there’s a fair amount of distance between you, Frankie heads down the sidewalk and waves. “I’ll call you,” he tells you, calling over his shoulder.

“You better,” you yell back.

Your grin is huge and you’re sure he can see it, even as he continues to walk backwards, watching you, and he disappears into the night.

---

Frankie calls the next day.

Phone numbers that weren’t saved in your address book were usually sent straight to voicemail but there was a nagging feeling deep in your gut to just answer it so you move to the edge of the sidewalk and out of the crowd and pick up.

“Hello?”

You catch a sigh and Frankie’s voice sounds over the speaker, bringing a smile to your face instantly. “Hey, it’s uh. Frankie. From the bar last night?”

Laughing a little, you nod to yourself. “Yeah. I remember you. Almost knocked me out when we bumped heads trying to pick up my keys.”

“Oh good,” he sounds relieved and you glance around as you wait for him to speak again, hoping the conversation was more than just chit-chat. “I know we just saw each other yesterday but I was wondering if I could see you again. Tonight maybe? If you don’t have plans. It’s fine if you do, I just thought I’d ask.”

He’s rushing through his words and you can tell instantly that he’s had to psych himself up to call you from his nervous tone through the receiver.

You don’t have plans and you’re more than eager to see Frankie again. Wondering if last night was a fluke and hoping that it wasn’t. Relationships weren’t your forte but maybe this was the exceptiontion. He was the exception.

“Yeah, I’d really like that Frankie. Just wanna meet me outside of my building around 7?” You chew on your lip nervously.

“Yeah,” he tells you. “That- that would be great. I’ll see you tonight?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” you chuckle. “Bye Frankie.”

“Bye.”

Suddenly thankful that you were done running your errands for the day, you headed back home with a grin on your face that didn’t seem like it wanted to leave. Cheeks aching, you wondered what and if he had anything planned.

It had been too long since you’d gone on any sort of date. A real date; something planned and thought out unlike the blind dates you were used to. Frankie didn’t seem the type for a typical dinner and a movie, and something about that idea had you even more excited to see him. Everything about the situation with him was unpredictable: the chance meeting at the bar, to the walk home where you laughed harder than you could remember. There was clearly something there between the two of you and it was exhilarating.

The rest of your day was spent cleaning and daydreaming about the night you might have with Frankie. You wondered if this was how it was supposed to feel when you liked someone. The concept was foreign to you, your relationship history basically nonexistent. Was it possible that he was just as nervous as you were?

As 7pm rolled around, a text sounded over your phone and you leaned over on the counter to see Frankie telling you he was outside. Grabbing a light coat on your way out, you took a deep breath and locked the door behind you. No turning back now.

Frankie was dressed similarly to last night. Jeans, a t-shirt and a tan jacket that looked like it’d seen better days. His hat was missing and his hair looked soft, the ends curling around his ears. You greeted him with a smile as you walked out of your building and he nodded, rocking back on his feet.

“This isn’t weird, is it?” He asks, nodding his head as you both started to walk left down the sidewalk. “The fact that we met last night and we’re seeing each other again?”

You chuckled, “It’s weird in the sense that I’ve never done this before. Any of it. But no, to answer your question. I wanted to see you again and I am, so.” Shrugging, you turn to listen to him as you both continue to walk, keeping to the side.

“Yeah, me too. I mean, I’ve met people in bars. Women. But it’s usually a one night kind of thing-,” Frankie stops himself and groans, running a hand down his face in embarrassment. “That sounds bad. Fuck.”

“Ain’t no shame in the game, Frankie. I’m not here to judge you,” you promise, pausing as you wait for the crosswalk sign to turn white so you can cross the street. “Where are we going, by the way?”

Frankie waits to answer until you’re both safely across the street and heading further into downtown, the crowds getting thicker and you push yourself against his side so as not to lose him. His arm finds its way across your shoulders to keep you close and he answers, leaning his head down closer to your ear. “There’s this bar and arcade thing down a couple more blocks that I figured we could spend some time at. Maybe head to the park after that and walk around. See where the night takes us?”

It’s easy to tell he hasn’t quite planned this out and something about that makes your heart race. He really had just wanted to see you, planning this as he goes only so you can spend more time together.

“The park can get a little murder-like late at night,” you point out with a laugh,

“That’s true. Well, we can always just see where the night takes us after we play a couple of games then if that’s alright?”

“That’s the part where you’re supposed to tell me you’ll protect me,” you poke a finger into his side and laugh. “But yeah of course, Frankie. Whatever you wanna do,” you reassure him. “I’m just along for the ride.”

The bar slash arcade was… something. You weren’t sure what you were expecting but it wasn’t what you walked into. The building was packed to the brim; loud noises, slots and different game noises sounding from every corner, and a small bar was tucked in the left corner with a tv playing what looked like The Shining above it.

“Have you been here before?�� You raise your voice, balancing yourself on his shoulder to get closer to his ear.

He nods shouting back, “Yeah, once. Came with a couple of buddies of mine. They’ve got some cool retro games in the back that we used to play as a kid. Everyone loves air hockey too, right?”

You can see the air hockey table he’s referring to. The black light makes everything under the table glow and it reminds you of the arcades off of food courts that most malls used to have. The skeptical feeling you had when walking in seems to fade away and suddenly you’re excited, wondering why you hadn’t been here before when it was so close to your apartment to begin with.

“Once the table clears, I wanna play,” you say, tugging Frankie towards the back where you see a racing game that looks familiar.

Frankie exchanges a few bills for tokens while you hold the two racing games and once he’s slid in the appropriate amount, it’s immediately turned into a competition.

As the screen starts to countdown to your race, you turn to him quickly with a proposition. “If I win, you buy me a beer.”

“I was gonna buy you one anyway,” he tells you, shaking his head as if he’d do anything less. “But alright. If I win, you have to give me a kiss right here.”

He annoyingly points to the empty spot on his jaw where his facial hair didn’t seem to grow, that you had drunkenly pointed out the night before, and you can’t help the loud bark of laughter that escapes your lips as you quickly nod. “Deal.”

You’re almost tempted to lose once the race starts, just so you can kiss him there. But deep in your gut you feel like there’ll be plenty of opportunities to kiss him there in the future so you don’t hold back. The routes feel familiar as you and Frankie virtually drive through them and you’re sure you’ve played this game before, years ago.

As you both reach the last lap and the finish line, you just barely win and pump your fists as you cross. The screen declares you the winner in big font, a trophy spinning in circles and you turn to Frankie. “So, about that beer.”

You two end up at the bar for a little over an hour. The barstools surrounding the area are a hot commodity and once you and Frankie are sat down, you’re reluctant to give them up, especially with the bartender keeping your drinks filled without having to ask.

Frankie tells you about his friends. Benny, Will, and Santiago. How they’ve kept him going since returning back to civilian life. He says they’re all one big support group to each other, knowing that even if it feels like there’s no one you could count on, one of them is always around. There’s a tightness to his voice when he talks about them, like he can’t believe his luck that he has such supportive friends. The clear despair on his face has your chest aching, and you squeeze his hand in comfort.

It makes you yearn for a friendship like that. Most of your friends are married and it’s harder to relate to them when you’re single and living in the city while they’re still living in your hometown with a couple of kids. You tell Frankie as much and he sympathizes and points out that you have at least one friend in the city now, shaking off the emotions of such a heavy conversation.

“Looks like the air hockey table is free,” you nod, seeing the table free for the first time that night.

Frankie nods, standing up to grab his wallet. “You grab the table, I’m gonna close out the tab.”

You quickly walk over, grabbing the two handles and knock a few tokens into the machine when the lime green puck pops out. Frankie joins you a few seconds later, grabbing his handle and standing opposite you.

“So, what are we competing for this time?”

You think for a moment, “Well, I don’t think I need another drink. What about if I win, you have to cook me dinner sometime this week? Maybe Wednesday?”

Frankie seems taken aback by your suggestion but readily agrees. “I can do that. And if I win, you have to cook me breakfast Thursday morning.”

His offer isn’t lost on you and you toss the puck onto the table with a smirk as the air starts to push it around. “You’re on.”

The match is filled with trash talk as you two play. You even manage to gather a small crowd of people around you, cheering you both on. It’s close. For every point you get, Frankie’s one step behind you. Your wrist is starting to ache and the countdown starts on the side, signaling the end of your game in the next 30 seconds.

“You’re gonna lose, Frankie,” you taunt, scoring another point and he tosses the puck back on the table and shoots it towards you as you block it, sending it back across the table.

Except you lose. By a point.

There are cheers for Frankie and slaps on the back as another couple takes over the table and you both move to the side to watch.

“I can’t say I’m all that mad that I lost,” you tell him honestly, glancing up and locking your eyes with his own deep, brown ones.

“It was kind of a win-win for both of us either way,” he agrees, nudging his arm with yours. “So, another date Wednesday night?”

You nod quickly, “Sounds perfect.”

--- Frankie walks you home a few hours later.

After the arcade, you both grab slices of pizza from a small place down the block and walk around, grease staining your fingers and tongues burnt from being so hungry.

Most people are tucking themselves back into their beds at the late hour, your watch showing it was coming up on 2am as you both approach your building.

“A successful first date, I think,” you turn to him, arms wrapped around yourself as the wind turns cold around you. You sniff as your nose starts to drip, scrunching it up and Frankie laughs.

“I think you’re right,” he agrees, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you against chest in a hug.

You savor the warmth as you press your cheek against him, then turn your head. “I should go inside. And you should head home, it’s so fucking late.”

Untangling yourselves, Frankie shoves his hands into his pockets and knocks his arm against yours. “I’ll see you Wednesday?”

Nodding quickly, Frankie shoots you a smile and turns, jogging across the street to where his truck is parked.

It’s like seeing him walk away pushes something inside you, itching to see him just once more and you call out to him quickly before he can get in his truck, “Frankie! Wait! I forgot something!”

He turns to watch you run across the street as he stands in front of the driver’s side door, looking at you curiously once you’re stood in front of him.

“What did you forget?”

“This.” And you lean over to press a kiss to the bare spot along his jaw, the sparse hair around it tickling your lips and you pull away with a grin.

Turning to glance both ways before crossing the street you call behind you, “Goodnight Frankie!”

NEXT CHAPTER

#frankie 'catfish' morales #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie 'catfish' morales x reader #triple frontier fic #tom doesn't exist lmao #my writing #take on the world

226 notes · View notes

1engele · 3 years

Text

daybreak | sal fisher x fem!reader - 8. solo

Previous | Next

[warnings: underage drinking, smoking, weed, near death experience?, crying]

"never have i dealt with anything more difficult than my own soul." — You leave the roof late in the night. Sal had gotten up and retreated into his apartment a little while earlier—but you'd decided to stay and make sure he didn't come back there.

Three days pass. They all consist of fleeting glances and irresolute tension. Things remain the same with the group dynamic, except for between you and Sal. Neither of you seem to know how to continue from that conversation on the roof. No one else notices, though. They'd never suspected anything from the beginning, it seems.

The beginning of your involvement with Sal involved a little bit of buildup and then a snap which resulted in a sexual encounter (or two).

Now it was a bit different. Now things were a little less lighthearted.

It's a Saturday—you'd planned to spend it inside as usual. That's until your phone starts ringing.

You flip your phone open, read over the contact, and answer the call.

"Hi, Ash."

"Y/N," she starts. You hear the excitement to continue in her voice. "There's a party tonight."

"Oh?" You get up from your seat on your bed.

"Some stoner Larry has connections with invited him and said to bring friends. He wants to bring us—save for Todd. He doesn't do parties."

"Wait," your eyebrows furrow. "Me?"

"Yeah!" She says from the other end of the line. "It'll be fun. Cmon."

You bite your lip nervously, anxiety knotting in your stomach. "I don't know. I've never really.."

Ashley is momentarily silent on the other line. She must be contemplating what to say to convince you. "Sal's coming too. Parties aren't necessarily his thing, either—so maybe you guys could try it out together?"

You open your mouth and then promptly close it. Something inside of you suddenly really wanted to go to this party. "Um... alright. Okay."

"Cool! What're you gonna wear?"

You look toward the drawer that contained your clothes and bit your lip. "Not sure yet. I'll update you on that."

"Okay, don't forget to text me! See you at eight."

The call declined from the other line. The phone that held the phone to your ear slipped into your lap. You pressed your lips together and tried to ignore the familiar feeling of sickening nausea and anxiety.

You don't rush yourself on getting ready for the party, because the time you're due to be done won't be for a while.

You take your time with the hours you have. You shower, take your time on eyeliner, mascara, and lipgloss—and finally decide on what you'll wear.

You decide on a square neck white cropped tank with short sleeves and your nicest pair of light blue, slightly washed out jeans. You slid on your favorite, sort of chunky white sneakers over white socks.

It isn't long after you finish when Ashley calls and informs you she's arrived at the apartments and Larry and Sal have already joined her out in the car. You give yourself a once-over in the mirror and then leave the apartment.

Your mother was nowhere to be found. She's either at work or drinking with her coworkers.

Once you've opened the door and climbed into the Ford Fiesta, you immediately realize your predicament—Sal is the only person in the backseat with you.

The drive there is decently long and painfully tense. Neither you nor Sal know how to speak to each other, so no words are exchanged beneath the heavy metal music emitting from the radio.

When you finally arrive at the party, it's recognizably crowded, drunken teenagers are flowing from the front door, in and out, and there's a good amount on the lawn. The newest radio hit is playing on a considerably loud speaker, and the vibrations are notable even from a distance.

"Woah," Larry says, staring at the house as Ashley pulls onto the side of the road. "Didn't realize he was so popular."

You all exit the Ford Fiesta and cross the road. You cringe as you watch someone vomit onto the grass, and another person ripping from a bong in the wide open.

Smoke flies into your face and your eyes as you enter the home. You cough, waving a hand as you blindly follow after your friends.

Eventually, the four of you find yourself on two couches directly facing each other. You on one, Larry and Ashley on the other. Sal is stood to the side.

Larry materializes a bottle of Fireball that you guessed he stole from someone on the way in, opens the cap with his teeth, and takes several gulps.

"Where did you get that?" Ashley laughs over the music, pulling the sleeves of her lavender sweater over her hands.

"Stole it," he looks to Sal and directs the bottle toward him. "Want some?"

"Sure," Sal replies, to your surprise—taking it from Larry's grasp and walking away and in your direction.

"You're drinking that?" You ask him, testing the waters.

"No, actually," you watch Sal round to the other side of the couch to linger behind you. "I'm limiting him. He'll thank me later."

Once he's out of your field of vision, you tip your head back and gaze up at him—your perspective on him being upside down. Your gaze zeroes in on the bottle of Fireball he's clutching in his hand.

"Hey," you say, meeting his eyes. "Give me some."

It was time to give him that excuse—the excuse to break the ice.

He leans in a bit, gesturing toward you with the bottle. "You want it?"

A grin pulls at your glossed lips. Instead of reaching for the bottle, you open your mouth and tilt your chin up.

Sal looks on for a moment but laughs once he realizes what you want. Everyone else at the couches seem decently distracted with each other and the overall environment—so he doesn't seem to worry about it too much.

He reaches his hand around and towards your neck, gripping your jaw in his fingers and holding you firmly. You feel his cold rings press into your skin when he tips your head further back just a bit—and then steadily pours a shot-amount of Fireball into your mouth with his other hand.

Sal stops at the right time, looks on as you pull back and sit up, and cautiously watches the back of your head as you assumedly swallow the whisky. But when you turn a bit in your seat to peer at him over your shoulder, you're holding your mouth closed and pressing a closed fist to your lips while soundlessly giggling.

"What?" He laughs, a hand moving to the top of the couch. He leans in a bit. "Can you not swallow it?"

Your shoulders shake slightly as you continue to laugh. You shake your head up and down.

"Do you need to spit it out?" Sal asks, his tone warming into concern.

You shake your head from side to side. You meet his eyes and swallow, gasping as the liquid slides down your throat and burns all the way down. You cough, the flavor of cinnamon and what tasted like Big Red gum overloaded your senses.

"God," you breathe out, giggling all the while. The alcohol is gross but you're feeling good. "It's not great."

"Yeah, that's why I'm holding Larry off, so he won't be puking his guts out later."

You look up to the boy, who's sat on the arm of the couch opposite to you. He's busy talking to some equally stoned guy, so you can't manage to catch his eye—but you catch Ashley's.

She had this look of astonishment on her face.

Had she been watching what happened? When Sal poured Fireball in your mouth?

Your face grew hot thinking about it.

Sal wanders away from you again, and you find yourself drinking more than you should. Eventually, your rationality disappears.

It's been a few hours and Sal hasn't seen you for a while. So when he hears about a girl wearing a white crop top walking across the roof of the house, he feels like he's going to vomit.

It takes him a record time of 6 seconds to get out of the door and onto the lawn. Upon looking up at the roof, his suspicions are confirmed. He shoulders past multiple people to place himself near the front of the crowd and gazes up in horror.

"Sal!" You yell, gesturing toward him with something between a wave and a point. "I'd recognize that hair anywhere!"

Multiple heads within the crowd turn away from you and towards him. He puts aside his social anxiety and the wave of unease that washes over his body and tries to focus on you. "Please come down," he rushes out, raising his voice just enough for it to be audible over the crowd.

You laugh like he's told a hilarious joke and he quickly realizes his mistake. That's the worst thing he could've told your intoxicated self. You move toward the edge of the roof, shaky and uncoordinated. "You want me to jump?"

"No!" He exclaims, his hands flying up, fingers splayed. "No. Don't do that!"

"Holy shit!" He hears Larry shout from somewhere closer to the front door of the house. Sal guesses he's just now catching wind of the current situation. Moments after, both of his brunette friends are at his side.

"What the hell is going on?!" Ashley yells, verdant eyes glued to the sight before them.

You lost your balance once again, but this time a bit worse—your foot catching on a shingle on the roof and effectively knocking the red solo cup out of your hand. It dropped onto the downward slope of the roof and the liquor inside of it spilled down the side.

Whenever Sal witnessed the toe of your white sneaker catch onto that shingle, he felt as though his very soul had been ripped from his body. Immediately after he watched you regain your footing and stable yourself, though—his heartbeat calmed to a steadier pace.

"I'm going up there," he stated beneath the chatter.

Both Ashley and Larry's heads whipped toward him.

"You'll kill yourself!" Larry exclaims incredulously. Ashley opens her mouth to assumedly second Larry's statement, but Sal cuts her off by walking away.

"Not before she does," he mutters, pushing his way through the density of bodies and forcing his way through the front door. His senses are disoriented like he's been submerged beneath water as the volume of the music scratched at his eardrums and pulsed the innards of his skull. Adrenaline courses through his blood like a drug whilst he shoulders past both mindlessly drunk and carelessly high teenagers.

Sal doesn't spare them a second glance, but their unconcern does remain in his mind. The fact that they're continuing their lives while he feels as though something that's growing into something of importance in his is about to be taken from him... it's mind-numbing.

He's never been an optimistic person, he's always tried to view things in the way they're most likely to happen—and all that's beneath that two-story house is a long drop and concrete. If you fall, you'll break your head open and you'll die.

He finally makes it to the stairs. He makes a break for it then, tripping over his own feet multiple times. Anything could happen in this amount of time, and he knew no one else was going to help him.

Sal's thoughts grow more and more disordered as he navigates the dark halls of the house. The music seems to have only grown louder, the deafening mixture of guitar and drums taunting him.

He remembers the window on the outside of the house. Sal estimates which room it would be, locates it, and approaches the door. He turns the knob, but it doesn't fully rotate.

The door is locked from the inside. Of course. Who would have a party and leave the bedroom unlocked so people could fuck all over your comforter?

He bites out a curse only he hears and prepares himself to force the door open.

Sal grabs the doorknob tightly, prepares himself, and rams the side of his body into the wood. He doesn't even feel the pain, just does it again, and again.

He goes until that half of his body is numb.

The door finally budges, and he wastes no time entering the room. He doesn't hesitate when he reaches the double-hung window he'd been seeking. He grips it at the bottom and pulls it up and open, clenching his teeth together painfully.

Sal stares out at the vastness of the night, the golden streetlights, and how they shine down on the crowd of people below him. They all seem to be looking at the same place, up, but not at him—and he can only swallow thickly.

Carefully, Sal moves to sit on the windowsill, gripping what was above him tightly, his legs outside. He then ducks to leave the room and shivers as cool air hits the front of his neck.

He starts walking the roof, steadily—like his life depends on it. Because.. it does.

Or yours. Yours depends on it.

"Y/N!" Sal calls as he finally reaches a point where you're in his line of sight. Momentarily, he's worried he'd scared you. But you turn your head, meet his eyes, and smile. Despite that, your face spells fear all over it. Something must have sobered you up a bit while he'd been inside.

"I'm going to come to you. Do not walk towards me!"

You blink lazily, because you were drunk, and nodded. You shivered, hugging yourself. It didn't seem to do much, though. Your arms were bare.

"Fuck," he breathes, gazing down at the fall that could await him if he misstepped and immediately reverted his gaze. Blood rushes between his ears as he steadily makes his way towards you.

"Please don't fall!" You suddenly exclaim, your hair tussling in the breeze. A strand blows over your face, so you quickly raise a hand to move it back in place.

He looks up from his feet and stares you in the eyes. "I won't," he affirms, you and himself, continuing across the roof. "Just stay put, okay?"

It doesn't take long to get over to you. He's mostly sober, so it isn't hard on that part. What's difficult is calming his steady heart.

He's not scared of falling. Not necessarily scared of injury or death. But he is scared of not making it to you.

Once he's at an arms reach of your shaking form, he reaches out a hand, palm facing the darkness of the sky.

You seem to read his mind, slowly grabbing his hand. Sal maneuvers your joint hands to where your palms press together and your fingers are interlaced. He doesn't know if it's the blood rushing through his ears or the distance from the ground, but it's as if everything below becomes very quiet.

You meet his gaze, your pretty eyes glossy with tears. The eyeliner you were wearing had just begun to collect beneath your lower lash line.

He squeezes your hand and leads you to be in front of him.

It's not long after that that he's gotten you off of the roof. Sal watches you slip through the open window before turning toward the density of people beneath him on the ground. He breathes in as he catches both Larry and Ashley's eyes—he can't read their expressions, but he wouldn't be surprised if there was shock written all over it—and then ducks back into the window.

As soon as the window is shut and it meets the windowsill once more, Sal whips his head toward you. "Y/N-"

Before he'd saw your face, and the language of your body as you were sat on the edge of the bed, he was going to scold you, and then go downstairs and find you some water and sober you up—all of that falls down the drain when he sees the stream of tears falling down your face. Every time you blink, more drop—quickly staining your cheeks with black makeup.

"Oh," he breathes, suddenly speechless. "Y/N-"

You attempt at taking a breath in, it seems—but it's a failure because it hitches and turns into a shoulder-shaking sob.

"I'm sorry," you cry, roughly dragging the tips of your fingers beneath your eyes. This only smears the running mascara further. "I'm just drunk."

Sal momentarily feels like breaking down in tears himself, that's how much this entire ordeal stressed him out. He approaches your trembling body and crouches down in front of you.

"Hey," he says, softly. "It doesn't matter whether or not you're intoxicated. Your feelings still matter, okay?"

You sniffle, still attempting to wipe your tears away, and reluctantly nod. "I'm sorry," you try again.

He places his hands on your knees and squeezes them firmly. "It's okay."

You jerk into a sob, leaning forward and pressing the side of your face on his shoulder. You slowly tuck your arms beneath his and cross them over the expanse of his back, palms flat on each shoulder blade. The convulsive gasps were hard to stop, making it hard to breathe.

Sal breathed out softly against the prosthetic, raising his arms and encasing them around your torso.

He didn't wonder about the reason for your tears. Assuming things wouldn't help you anymore.

"I don't know why I did that," you whisper, quieting yourself to swallow your saliva. "Maybe I do. I think I was trying to prove something to myself."

He finds himself holding you tighter, your chest pressed to his, feeling your heartbeat through the fabric that separated you both—oddly enough, even at this moment, it reminds him of that night in the car. You had been even closer to him then, though.

"It was stupid," you murmured. "Why would I do that, after what we had talked about last night?"

"What if we jumped together?" he remembers saying.

"Some things can't be explained," he replies earnestly. "You don't need to know why you did what you did. It was stupid, though. I'd probably walk across the roof of a two-story house for you again, but.."

You pull back and meet his eyes, your face wet. The majority of your makeup had been cried off and your lipgloss had been smudged.

You must've sensed his examination, breaking the visual contact and sniffling. "I know I look ridiculous right now."

Sal smiles. He knows she can't see it, but maybe she'll hear it. "I don't think so," he murmurs, looking off to the side. "I think that's a bathroom. You can clean up in there if you want."

You follow his gaze and then return your eyes to his and laugh a bit. You still sound drunk, he notes. Obviously. He'd poured a good amount of Fireball into your mouth and watched you drink plenty of other things.

"Feels kinda weird using a stranger's bathroom," you laugh, your breath hitching from the earlier crying.

Sal rolls his eyes humorously, gripping your knees tighter as he pulls himself off of the floor. "The guy who lives here is Larry's friend—and a stoner. I doubt he'd mind. And if he does get mad, I'll take responsibility for it. I forced that door through, anyway.."

Your gaze swivels toward the door, which is not shut but mostly closed. When he glances to where you're looking, he notices it seems a bit.. crooked.

He inwardly cringes. "I'll pay for it. Come on."

Sal follows you into the bathroom. You seem reluctant to enter first, so he does, opening the door and reaching to the side to turn the lights on. They do what they're supposed to—eventually. They're momentarily unresponsive before becoming alive—the illumination brightening the room with a dull yellow hue.

You step onto the tile and began to search for whatever it was you needed. You kneeled at one of the cabinets below the sink, opened it, and ducked your head lower.

"Oh!" You exclaim quietly, reaching in and pulling out two things. A bottle of half-empty makeup remover and a bag of some cotton rounds.

"Maybe he has a girlfriend?" He hears you say to yourself, standing up, nudging the cabinet closed with your foot, and placing the things you found beside the sink.

Sal reaches over and closes the door. He'd rather not have to witness the sight of some drunkards wandering in and fooling around on the bed.

"Lock it," you say. "I'd rather no one- no one see me like this."

His hand was already on the doorknob, so he just reaches down a bit and locks the door.

He watches you struggle a bit with the bag of cotton rounds, trying but failing to open it, so he reaches forward and delicately plucks it out of your grasp.

Sal slides the makeup remover over and pats the place on the counter it was previously. "Sit."

You peer into his eyes inquisitively but waste no time hoisting yourself up and onto the cold surface.

After that, he plucks the bottle of makeup remover off of the counter and douses the cotton round in the liquid. He reaches forward from the distance that your knees created between the both of you, but you spread your thighs and press the heel of your shoe into his lower back, pulling him in so he's between your legs.

Sal doesn't see it suggestively, because you're drunk—but he's glad you asked him to lock the door because, with his luck, Larry or Ashley would find their way into the bathroom and get all of the wrong ideas.

The firmness just beneath his navel presses into the edge of the counter as he cups one side of your face and began wiping away at the eyeliner and mascara and everything it messed up.

"Thank you," you say sweetly, blinking at him with appreciation in your eyes. "Where'd you learn how to do that?"

He remembers a silhouette. Her back was turned to him, golden hair cascading just past her shoulder blades. He remembers blue eyes that looked a lot like his own staring into a mirror, a hand which adorned a wedding ring wiping away makeup from the day.

"Read it on the label of the bottle," he replies, meeting your eyes and looking away.

As he's finishing up, he hears a rapping of knuckles against the locked door. He tosses the used cotton rounds into a trash bin in the corner and then locks eyes with you curiously.

"Occupied," he calls out, still looking at you. The knocking only gets louder, which makes you laugh.

"He said it's occupied!" You yell over the unintelligible music downstairs, your words breaking into a giggle. You press your knees against his waist, and he doesn't even realize it when his hands meet your thighs.

The knocking ceases, fading into a voice. "Is that you guys in there?"

Fucking Larry. Speak of the goddamn devil—that's what he would've said if he'd come knocking sooner.

The both of you seem to be thinking the same thing, locking eyes in terror. You quickly get off of the counter, and Sal unlocks the door and swings it open.

Sure enough, he's standing there—in all of his glory and highness. Larry blinks, the whites of his glossy eyes tinted red. He looks between the both of you before speaking. "Why were.."

"I had to pee," You choose to deadpan.

Sal feels himself grow even paler than he already is. "I came in.. after.. that."

Larry intakes a mouthful of whatever is in the red solo cup he's holding in his tan, lanky fingers, and swallows thickly. "Okay," he croaks, instinctively cringing as the alcohol passed through his chest. He gestured the cup toward you. "Uh..crazy stunt you pulled up there, huh?"

Sal saw your face shift in his peripheral vision. "Huge lapse of judgment," you reply.

"Nobody could tell who you were, so don't worry about that," the brunette smiles a bit. He returns his attention to Sal. "They've started playing country," sure enough, Sal hears the sound of a banjo from the speakers downstairs, effectively punctuating Larry's statement.

"Yeah.." Larry mumbles, sipping his drink and looking up and through his eyebrows. "Ash said to come find you guys so we can leave."

It doesn't take much, after that.

As you're leaving, Larry pulls the door open and furrows his brow at the condition of the hinges. "Wow. How old is this thing?" He mumbles.

Sal hears you snort.

The three of you descend the stairs, skirting past countless teenagers standing on the steps drinking or smoking. Sal makes the mistake of letting you fall behind and feels you stumble and smack him in the back. It's easy to steady himself, quickly gripping the railing—but he's concerned about you, so he turns around.

A guy with a cigarette balancing in his teeth is eying you with frustration pulling at his features. His gaze pulls from your face and down your body absentmindedly.

"Watch it," he murmurs.

"Sorry," you breathe, jerking your head away and meeting Sal's eyes worriedly. Keep walking, you express in the hues of your eyes.

Sal reaches forward and interlaces your fingers with his as he'd done on the roof. He makes a show of it, too—so the guy with the cigarette sees the rings on both of his hands. Sal gives him a distinct look when they lock eyes, rolls his jaw, and lets you lead him down the stairs, instead of the other way around.

By the time you're all nearly shot from weaving through the multitude of sweaty bodies and navigating through plumes of smoke thicker than fog, the three of you find Ashley petting what he'd assume is the host's dog.

No one questions it.

"You good to drive?" Larry asks, placing his cup on a nearby surface.

"Oh, yeah," she rises from her crouch beside the dog. The animal walks away, his golden tail wagging excitedly at the next person who would give him pets. "A gross sip of something put me off of drinking tonight a while earlier. And, uh.. the whole roof thing dried me out."

You sigh. "I'm sorry about that. It sobered me up, too."

She shakes her head, a wispy strand of light brown hair falling over her face. "It was stupid, yes, and I hope you don't do it again, but all that matters now is that you're safe."

Ashley blinks kind green eyes at you and smiles, reaching forward, taking your hand, and leading you away. Sal hears you laugh and follow after her as both of you head for the front door.

He turns to look at Larry once he loses sight of both of you in the crowd. He examines Sal with bleary dark eyes and looks as though he's about to say something, but he doesn't get to.

Even over the blaring country music, Sal hears a yell and then some fearful shouting. He whips around toward the sounds, which were toward the front of the house.

Red and blue flashing lights shine through the windows.

"Shit!"

"Ah, fuck," Larry groaned, nimbly wrapping his fingers around Sal's wrist and dragging him into the density of the panicked crowd. "Did you see where they went?"

Sal shakes his head. "No," he knows you're intoxicated. Panic settles in. He chews his lip, his eyes desperately scamming for a girl wearing a white top squared at the neck—you. "Y/N's had a lot to drink, Larry. If the police-"

"Don't worry about the Five-O, let's worry about the girls," Larry replies absentmindedly, keeping his firm hold on Sal.

"They must've gone to the Ford," Sal shouts over the music, which, for some reason, is still playing. "We were leaving anyway. I'm sure they're in the car."

Larry releases Sal and motions toward the back of the house. "There's a back door. I'll text Ashley and tell her to drive down the block and we can meet them on foot."

It was an agreeable plan. Waltzing out of the house and walking straight up to the car wouldn't be wise.

Larry does what he'd said he'd do. Turns out, Sal was right, they had made it to the car moments before the police had rolled up. Ashley informed him it was two squad cars and four officers. Seemed like overkill for a house party—but he wouldn't know. He didn't do this often.

When Larry was on the phone, Sal was very tempted to ask about Y/N, but refrained.

On the way to the back door, they crossed through the kitchen. Larry snatched an unopened bottle of alcohol of a brand Sal didn't recognize and carried it along with him for the road.

As soon as they made it out of the house, they both made a break for it, running between houses and into multiple different backyards on their way.

They slowed down once they were at a measurable distance from the party, gasping for air. Sal panted against the prosthetic, placing his hands on his knees and slowing his gasps into slow breaths, attempting to calm his racing heart.

They stood on the side of the road, the music in the distance (albeit a lot quieter) still pounding into the night.

Sal lowered himself down onto the curb. Larry joined him, raising the bottle he'd chose to bring with him to his mouth, and opened the steel cap with his teeth. He spits it onto the road and gestures it toward Sal.

"Bottoms up," he said, bringing it to his lips and taking several gulps.

Sal rolled his eyes playfully, eyebrows rising as Ashley's Ford Fiesta cruised down the road and slowed to a stop in front of them. He stood up from the curb and pulled Larry off of it as well.

They entered the car, sliding into the backseat. Larry continued to down the beer he'd found as Ashley turned around in her seat.

"The night's still young," she says. "Any ideas of what we could do?"

It's really not. Sal's a bit disoriented so he doesn't know what time it is but he wouldn't be surprised if it was 3 AM.

You then turn around in the passenger seat and grin mischievously. "Let's go to the lake."

Oh, great.

#sally face #sally face x reader #sal fisher x reader

172 notes · View notes

justaniche · 3 years

Note

Hey! I’m dying for more Daxton. I seriously can’t wait for season 2. Can you write something about Nalini realizing Paxton is good for Devi? Like he takes care of her/protects her and helps her deal with her trauma

Thanks!!

Hi!

omg let me say first, anon, thank you for this ask. youre the first person to take me up on my offer to write stuff for you so thank you again.

A little bit about this writing piece before I actually show it to you, there was a point when I was writing it when I wasn’t sure if it was going to reach 1K words but there was a point where the words just start to flow and I can proudly say it is 2.1K and that is not a lot but based on what I thought it was going to end up being it has come along way. and this is one of my first-ish never have I ever work of writing. I think it’s the first I’ve written entirely off the top of my head. My other ones are either not posted or it’s my work inspired by the episodes and its just everything through Paxton‘s point of view so it’s a bit different.

this is getting sort of long so anyway, without further ado. here it is. I hope you enjoy it, please let me know what you think and if you like it please feel free to send me another!

Nalini had just about had it. The day’s raging dumpster fire began with traffic that resulted in her being late to work. If that wasn’t bad enough, a patient she saw a couple days ago came back complaining that her treatment caused a breakout. After a follow-up, she discovered the patient hadn’t changed any of their habits despite her advice! So was it really the treatment, or the fact that they don’t wash their face? All that suffices to say when Nalini got home she was already on a very short fuse. Kamala was out for school and let her family know she wouldn’t be home for dinner so it was known by both Devi and Nalini that they would be cooking without her today. Nalini gave Devi specific instructions so that, regardless of how late her day ran, they could have dinner at a reasonable time. Devi did not follow those instructions. Nalini came home to the door unlocked, closed but unlocked, the house a mess, and Devi’s part of dinner not made. No matter how many breaths she took, Nalini was mad. No, mad didn’t quite cover it. She silently walked up the stairs, hell-bent on seeing what caused this disaster, and if she didn’t like the reason she planned to riff for the rest of the night. But approaching Devi’s door she found it ajar. She peeked inside, and that's where she found them.

After winning his swim meet, Paxton was on top of the world. The school day had been what it tended to be, light. Filled with class and hanging with his friends in the hotpocket. But that was hours ago. It was early evening when he saw her, Devi Vishwakumar, they had sort of become friends over recent weeks but given the up and down nature of their relationship, Paxton was always very aware of her. Devi had a way of grabbing Paxton’s attention. He was always trying to figure her out. Of course she made a hell of a first impression, first couple of impressions actually. Devi was sorely different from anyone else in his circle and Paxton wasn’t yet sure how he felt about the sudden invasion. He pretended he didn’t but after unintentionally watching her Paxton began to notice Devi’s change in mood sometimes. Like right now, from where Paxton was he saw the set of her shoulders. The tension was apparent as Devi stalked across the school grounds. Confusion flooded Paxton’s mind and before another thought could register, he was jogging towards her.

“ Hey, Vishwakumar, wait up! ” He called towards her but she didn’t stop

Devi cast a look over her shoulder, her voice was muffled when she spoke, “Uh, Hi Paxton, I can’t talk.” her voice cracks, “I’m in a bit of a rush.”

Paxton slows down for a second as he takes in the situation, Devi speeds up.

“Are you okay?”

Devi breaks into a dead sprint and Paxton doesn’t think, he just follows.

Devi was doing okay. Today was harder than most for a reason she couldn’t name but Devi was making it through. That was until last period art class. The teacher gave a simple assignment, and that was to paint your happiest memory. Immediately when the words left his mouth, a memory came flooding into Devi's mind like a tidal wave.

Devi was 8 when her father convinced her mother that going to a Californian beach as a family would be an adventure. Devi barely remembers the build-up, it was a haze of packing sandwiches and equipment. Leaving the house, only to discover something had been forgotten. A car ride that seemed to stretch into forever. But the beach was magnificent. At least it was in Devi’s memory. It was a gloomy day, the threat of rain looming, so the beach’s visitors were far and few in between. Devi remembers that feeling of warm sand under her feet. She remembers those first fragile steps into the tide, only to rush back as the ocean crashed forward chasing her back to shore. She could see her mom, in the distance, setting up their makeshift camp for the day. She was more content watching her family than participating. The ocean was vast and blue and terrifying. Devi could not urge herself to take more than a few steps. Devi doesn’t know how her dad saw her distress but it was like he could read her mind. He grabbed her and lifted her high then settled Devi on his shoulders. He insisted that she was safe there, she was too high for the ocean to ever reach. He held her hand as he walked slowly but confidently further into the waves. He stopped just as the water kissed her mid-calf but it was enough. From way up here, with her father by her side, the ocean wasn’t anything to fear, it was something to marvel at.

Devi had a firm picture in her mind of her happiest memory and it was her family’s adventure at the beach. But Devi couldn’t make a move to make this image a reality. Sadness crept up on her and got a vice grip on her heart. Her vision blurred and she couldn’t breathe. How had she ever breathed before? Was it always this hard? The bell rang, signaling the end of the day but Devi was on autopilot. Eleanor and Fabiola felt miles away, whenever they’d focus in the daze of her mind, the grip on her heart tightened and dragged her back to darkness. Devi doesn’t know if she said goodbye to her best friends,

She blinked, band began

She inhaled, band was over

She stood, the sun was setting

She gazed, the stress stiffened her movements as she walked around campus. Where was she headed?

Devi was desperate for light, for clarity.

“ Hey, Vishwakumar, wait up! ” The sudden noise broke the muddle, if only for now, she was again aware of the devastation and loss weighing on her mind and on her heart.

She recognized that voice and it was getting closer, she glanced over her shoulder. Paxton, no no no, she didn’t want anyone to see this least of all her newest and most popular friend, “Uh, Hi Paxton, I can’t talk.” Why was her voice cracking? “I’m in a bit of a rush.”

Devi finally knew where she wanted to go as she increased her speed.

“Are you okay?” Paxton’s question was the final straw, she couldn’t stop her tears and they fell uncontrollably past her cheeks. Paxton was going to catch up, and Devi was crumbling by the second. So Devi did the only thing she could. She ran, ignoring the echo of the beating steps behind her.

Nalini could hardly comprehend the scene playing in front of her. Devi, her only child, her entire world, looked so small folded up on the floor in front of her bed. Devi was always so strong, with a personality larger than life. She always seemed bigger than her stature, always taking up more space. Nalini's anger from the day deflates, leaving no trace it was ever there to begin with. Nalini tears her eyes away from the form of her daughter to take in the room. It was dark but the other figure inhabiting the room was clear as day. Paxton sat before Devi, his body language soft. He had one hand on the arms Devi wrapped around herself as he spoke to her gently. Paxton’s volume was soft as a whisper, any louder would shatter the delicate atmosphere. Witnessing this scene felt like a secret and the longer Nalini stood there the guiltier she felt. Devi never expressed emotions this deeply to her. Everyday problems with her friends or tests or Ben Gross, yes. But Devi never shared this.

Nalini's mind was going a million miles an hour as he crept back down the steps and began cooking dinner. She knew Devi would refuse but she needed to have something ready, just in case. When everything was mostly done, she was quiet as she moved around the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on the meal. Nalini knew he was trying to walk silently but she still caught Paxton as he descended the steps. Nalini kept her back to him as she called, giving Paxton an out if he needed.

“Paxton?”

“Um...yes, Hi Mrs. Vishwakumar” at the acknowledgment, Nalini felt comfortable enough to turn around.

Paxton was standing in the doorway, shuffling in obvious discomfort. What he expected her to say she didn’t know. Gods, neither did Nalini. Questions flew through her mind faster than she could catch them. She didn’t want to ask him about what happened, Nalini wanted Devi to share when, if, she was ready. Nalini realized, amongst these questions, that she didn’t know Paxton. Here was this kid, late in the evening comforting her daughter. She couldn’t even be upset that they were home alone when she recalled how broken Devi looked. All Nalini had done thus far was judge Paxton, he looked like a jock so she thought him dumb. She made these assumptions about him, that he’d peak in high school or that he was shallow or that he was a walking STI, but they were just that. Assumptions. This kid stayed with her daughter for she didn’t even know how long, she’d been cooking for close to an hour so it was at least that.

All these guesses and judgments were useless when she stood in front of him. Paxton had a rigid set to his limbs, Nalini thought it was probably from sitting in one position for so long, and he was still dressed in gym clothes. Paxton looked new in Nalini’s eyes and she regretted never wanting to know him before now. Nalini didn’t know where to begin, she wondered if he’d eaten.

“Would you like something to eat?” Nalini's silent prayer must’ve been heard because he accepted. She was being given another chance. She quickly worked around the familiar space, grabbing one of the good containers and piling more food than necessary, successfully straining the unyielding plastic. She was handing the meal over when she paused, they both had a hand on the object between them but Nalini couldn’t let go, not yet.

“Thank you, Paxton, really, I don’t know what happened and I won’t ask but I saw what you did for Devi.” Paxton had the decency to look a little shocked. He hadn’t heard anything. Paxton was too absorbed before. His mind was a broken record repeating only, Devi.

The moment shatters when the front door opened, “I’m home!” Kamala’s voice fills the silent home. With the trance broken, Nalini’s hold on the container falters and she drops her hand allowing Paxton to leave. Words were failing him so all Paxton could give was a tightlipped smile in response.

“Thanks for the dinner.” Paxton’s smile was looser now and that gave Nalini courage.

Kamala was unloaded the day around her but Nalini was focused on making this right, “You’re welcome to come by Paxton, anytime.” She could only hope Paxton knew just how much she meant those words. His smile was burdened but bright, he nodded strongly and then he was out the door.

Kamala was fixing the table for a very late dinner when she called for Devi to join, Nalini hoped she would. “Who was that? And why was he here so late?” Pure curiosity laced Kamala’s voice.

“Paxton is one of Devi’s friends. He’s a good kid.”

Those details were all she could provide before Devi came bouncing down the steps. Nalini couldn’t be sure if it was the fact of what she saw or reality but Devi’s movements looked heavier than they normally were.

“What’s up guys?” Devi’s voice feigned casualness, “Dang mom, isn’t it late for a thousand-course meal?” She questioned as she took in the lack of clear surfaces on the dinner table.

Nalini just brushed it off, indicating for everyone to take a seat. “So how was everyone’s day?”

Nalini wasn’t looking for Devi to share but this was her family. She would always want to hear how they were, plus it was tradition. As they consumed insane amounts of food they were bound to regret eating this late at night, everything felt so normal and easy. But something had shifted in Nalini today and even though it was new and she was scared to death of this person entering Devi’s life with the propensity to hurt her. Nalini can’t say she minded too much because it was Paxton. He had proven himself worthy of a chance, and Nalini wouldn’t soon forget it.

#devi x paxton #devi vishwakumar #netflix original #never have i ever #never have i ever netflix #paxton hall yoshida #nhie #nhie netflix #ben gross #eleanor wong #fabiola torres #daxton #daxton fic #nhie season 1 #nhie fic #anonymous #anon ask #fanfic

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lena-in-a-red-dress · 3 years

Text

Notting Hill AU Snippet #8

"It happened. Feel it, and let it go."

Her therapist's words are easier said than done. Lena does her best, she really does, but every time she almost feels over Kara Danvers, she sees a film trailer or a tabloid headline and her world spirals again.

It's silly. Lena knows she shouldn't be so affected. She only knew Kara Danvers for a few days across a few weeks, but then again... as her therapist likes to say: Lena never learned how to love half way.

When news of a nude photo scandal breaks, Lena finds out about it with the rest of the world, but instead of watching in sick fascination, Lena feels only horror for the woman behind it all. Her heart, broken though it is, goes out to Kara, and the devastation she must be going through. Because Lena more than anyone else knows how carefully crafted Kara's image is, how carefully precise every word and movement is lest she lose the love of the audience and the industry itself.

But as much as Lena might want to, she doesn't call. She doesn't write. She doesn't even know if Kara is in Britain at all, until one morning there's a knock on her front door.

There, with an overnight bag, is Kara.

Her eyes are hidden behind large sunglasses, and her arms are crossed over her chest, tight with anxiety. Before Lena can think to do anything otherwise, she wordlessly steps aside to invite Kara into her flat.

"Thank you," Kara murmurs. Her voice quivers, her jaw clenched against brimming tears. Lena briefly scans the street outside before closing the door, relieved to find it empty of press.

They slowly migrate to the kitchen, where Kara pauses, uncertain of what to do next.

"Tea?" Lena offers.

Kara nods faintly. Over tea, the situation Lena had avoided reading about about in the tabloids comes spilling out as Kara vents, finally able to explain to someone-- anyone-- who would listen.

"I was young, and I was angry, and... and you want to know the saddest part? I enjoyed that shoot! It was one of the healthiest, most open working environments I'd ever been in. The level of trust, and respect... god-- they talked to me like a person, and I just-- for the first time, it felt like I had complete agency. Except I didn't, because they also filmed it, which they didn't tell me, and now... now my entire career, the only thing I've ever done in my entire life, might be over."

Lena listens to it all. She can't offer anything more than that. She doesn't know what to say, even if she could speak under the weight of being in Kara's presence again. Kara fills the entire room, even dressed down in jeans and a trim sweater.

The hurt of their last parting feels a million miles away for the first time since it happened, and all Lena wants to do is kiss her.

"What does your boyfriend think?" Lena blurts softly.

Kara blinks, staring at her. "I don't know," she confesses silently. "I haven't heard from him since before... I don't even know if I have a boyfriend anymore. I didn't even really know I had one then, until he showed up in my hotel room."

She pauses, finally meeting Lena's. "I am so sorry for what happened. I wanted to call so many times, I just-- I just didn't know what to say. And now-- now I'm invading your home like--"

"It's okay," Lena assures her, heading her off at the pass. She rises, taking Kara's hands in hers and offering a reassuring squeeze. "I'm glad you're here, and that you're safe."

Blinking away tears, Kara nods, sniffling.

"What do you need?" Lena asks. "Food, nap, bath...?"

"A bath sounds... really nice right now. And food. And a nap. Maybe in that order?"

Lena smiles. "Okay. We can do that."

---

After Kara's bath, they chat quietly over Notting Hill's finest fish and chips. It feels like no time has passed at all, like they didn't ever part that night at the hotel. Lena revels in it, and in the fact that Kara's nap is taken resting against her shoulder as Lena reads on the couch.

Her therapist would be so disappointed in her.

There's no boundary Lena could throw between them that Kara isn't already well past, and Lena finds she simply doesn't want to. As dangerous as she knows it is, she enjoys their time together. She's addicted to it, like a moth to flame.

The first night, Lena gives Kara her bed, and sleeps on the couch. The second night, after a day filled with running lines for Kara's next project, Lena's awoken from a light doze by a creak on the stair. Despite having a flatmate, Lena instinctively knows it's not Querl, and meets Kara at the foot of the stair.

"Is everything all right?" she asks.

In the dark, Kara nods, a dark shape bobbing in the shadows. "Yes, I-- I just wanted to say thank you. For everything you've done for me. I know you have no reason to help--"

Lena leans in and kisses her. Before her brain can catch up, Kara is kissing her back, burying her hands in Lena's tangled hair before slipping down to brush the edge of Lena's breast through the fabric of her tank top.

Lena covers the exploring hand, pressing it in place against her chest before it could go any further.

"Do you want this?" is all she asks.

Kara nods again, this time their noses brushing at the tips. "Yes," she breathes. "I want you."

----

Waking up in the morning, Lena feels as though she's still dreaming. Her body aches pleasantly, and today the sunlight streaming through her windows falls softly on the figure fast asleep beside her.

Kara Danvers' features are soft in sleep, unschooled for the first time Lena's ever seen. She looks younger, and impossibly more beautiful-- until Kara shifts, and wakes with a smile that puts Lena's previous observations to shame.

"Hi," Kara whispers.

"Hi," Lena whispers back. "Sweet dreams?"

"Mmmmmm," Kara hums, rolling to face her. "Remind me."

Lena obliges with a kiss, ignoring the sour taste of morning breath. Her hand cups Kara's jaw, her thumb brushing lightly against a soft cheek.

Before long, they're interrupted by a low growl in Kara's belly, prompting Lena to laugh against Kara's lips.

"Message received. Stay here," she urges, slipping out of bed.

She pulls on a pair of boxers and her tank top from the night before, wrinkled from being tossed unceremoniously across the room, before heading downstairs to make breakfast.

Lena barely has the bread in the toaster before warm arms encircle her waist from behind. Soft lips press against the join of Lena's neck, blonde hair tickling her skin. She hums low in her throat.

"I like that," she says. She leans her head against Kara's. "Butter and jam's in the fridge."

Kara grins against her and parts with another kiss, finding her way around Lena's kitchen as though she's always been there. Lena takes in the sight of Kara in one of her old oversized sweaters, barely enough to keep her decent. It's a pleasant sight, Kara's ease. Lena wants it to stick around forever.

Their peace is interrupted a moment later when the doorbell rings.

"I've got it," Lena says. "You stay here and butter the toast."

She hops down the narrow steps to the front hall, and opens the door without a second thought as to who could be behind it.

A barrage of camera shutters clicking and the bright flash of dozens of cameras going off at once stuns her. Blinded, she can barely make out the sea of paparazzi, and the questions she barely hears through the buzz of utter noise.

In the next moment, Lena regains her senses and slams the door shut. The heavy old door does well to muffle the sound, so that when Kara comes traipsing down the steps behind her she doesn't notice the hubbub.

"What is it?"

Before Lena can stop her, a shout on her lips, Kara opens the door and faces the sea of cameras with nothing but a piece of toast in her hand and an old sweater between them.

Kara reacts faster than Lena did, instantly whirling and shutting the door behind her. In that moment, Kara's ease disappears. Her body stiffens and her skin heats with flush of shame.

"They... you..." Kara stammers. She looks at Lena, then glares at her. "You told them I was here?!"

"What? Why would I do that?"

"Well, if it wasn't you, it was that weirdo of a roommate!" Kara exclaims, voice climbing in pitch and volume. "Finally decided to make a quick buck by giving a tip to the tabloids!"

"That's uncalled for," Lena counters. Querl is odd, but he'd only ever been kind to Kara, in his own strange way. "Let's just... let's just breathe for a second--"

"You breathe. I'm leaving."

Without another word, Kara disappears back into the kitchen. After an urgent call to whom Lena can only guess is her publicist, Kara disappears towards the bedroom. Lena gives her space, lingering in the living room long enough for Kara to catch her breath. By the time she finally pokes her head into the bedroom, Kara is already dressed and throwing her items into her overnight bag.

"Kara..."

"Don't. Don't say my name like you know how I feel."

Lena swallows thickly. "I don't... I don't know what to say. I'm sorry they're here, but I'm not sorry you are."

"Well, I am," Kara snaps, snatching her top from the night before and slamming it into her bag. "I never should have come here. I have a boyfriend for Christ's sake!"

Lena freezes, her blood running cold. "You do?"

"As far as they're concerned I do! And now pictures of us are going to be on every paper from here to Star City!!"

Kara lugs her bag over her shoulder and storms out of the room. "And your friend, your friend owes you a nice dinner. Lobster at least, if he's smart enough to get the going rate on betrayal."

"You leave Querl out of this!" Lena snaps, her temper fraying as she chases after Kara. "Okay? I understand that you're upset, and I am too, but we don't know that he has anything to do with this!"

Kara rounds on her with fury in her eyes. "All I know is that they didn't follow me here, and we didn't go anywhere. So if wasn't me, and it wasn't him, who was it? Hm?"

Angry tears burn at the backs of Lena's eyes. She blinks them away, and struggles breathe past the lump in her throat.

"It's okay, Lena," Kara continues firing, "I get it. Okay? It's natural to want your name out there, to drum up business. Come, get a boring book about Egypt from the chick who fucked Kara Danvers!"

The accusation drives all the breath from Lena's body. She stares, and sees the moment Kara realizes she's crossed a line. She softens then, but not enough.

"You may only get fifteen minutes of this, Lena, but I have had this my entire life. These pictures will last forever. They will follow me FOREVER, and I will regret this forever!"

The doorbell rings, cleaving through the moment of Lena's heartbreak. Surprisingly, Kara doesn't immediately leave, her shock at her own words evident in the gape of her mouth and the tears in her eyes.

Finally, Lena looks away, clearing her throat.

"You don't want to keep your team waiting," she grinds out, her voice full of gravel. It hurts to speak, to breathe, to even look at Kara. But watch she does as Kara's mouth closes to a resolute line before she turns and leaves without looking back.

previous / next

#supercorp #notting hill au #wall of text

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yamagucji · 4 years

Text

Iwaizumi lashing out on his s/o

request: “Welcome on Tumblr ! May I ask for Iwaizumi being stressed and lashing out on his S/O in front of the team resulting at making his S/O apologies, feeling embarrassed, before leaving the gym 😔 Sorry if it’s too much” -anon

pairing: iwaizumi x gn!reader

warnings: a pinch of angst

a/n: i got some good writing practice w this prompt so i might’ve gotten a little overboard with the details🥵 if u don’t wanna read all that just skip ahead to paragraph 8

The blazing sun illuminates through the window and into the vacant classroom. Just an hour ago the space had been occupied by an abundance of students, but now only you remained.

It feels sickly hot inside. You’ve been tempted to leave the uncomfortableness of your space had it not been for your finals binding you down to tedious studies after school. But at last, you’ve managed to complete a section of your chemistry studies and decide to call it a day.

You look at the time. 5:02 pm. You’ve got another eight minutes until the next bus comes so you quickly make your way towards the door. An object poking out from underneath Iwaizumi’s desk comes to take your attention. You realize it’s his wallet.

He must’ve left it before he went for practice. That fool. I guess I have enough time to drop it off to him. And it wouldn’t hurt to see his pretty face before going home!

You hastily exit the classroom with his wallet in hand and make a dash towards Seijoh’s gym. A bead of sweat threatens to escape from your temple and the thought of having a cold, refreshing shower is something that you begin to look forward to.

When you arrive at the gym you’re met with a vicous pack of aura. It’s feverish, even more agressive than the hot summer heat. You can hear Oikawa bickering in the distance and there’s no sign of the coach. You spot Iwaizumi, his back faced towards you.

Unbeknownst to you, the wild pack boys have aggrevated your boyfriend near his limits and any sort of bother now is enough for him to break. Unfortunately for the both of you, you were the one that was on the recieving end of his breaking point.

You stride up to Iwaizumi, calling out his name to try to get his attention. You’ve got his wallet in his hands which he had left under his desk and you’re attentive to giving it back to him as soon as possible so you can make it to your bus.

“Hajime.”

“Hajime!” You call out a little louder. He’s nearly at arms reach now.

Still no answer. You call out for the final time, grabbing a hold of his forearms to turn him around.

“Haji-”

Iwaizumi forces your hold away from him and before he can even notice who it is he yells. The volume of his voice has surely caught the attention of all the boys.

“What the hell do you want? Can’t you see I’m—”

His eyes turn wide in shock as he realizes it’s you. It’s merely a couple of seconds but he doesn’t fail to notice the way you flinch from his action. The short exchange brings you at a shock, seeing as he’s never lashed out on you before. Iwaizumi opens his mouth to say something but you beat him to it. You give him a bow and apologize.

“I- I noticed you left your wallet on your desk so I came to give it back to you. I didn’t mean to bother you Iwaizumi, I’m so sorry.”

He grimaces at your use of his first name. The rest of the gym is silent as the boys watch the tension between the couple.

“Y/n, babe, I’m sorry I didn’t—”

You’re quick to cut him off on his apology by shoving the wallet into his hands and making a hurried exit out of the gym. You can hear him calling after you, a pair of footsteps mimicking yours but you don’t bother to look back.

There’s a downpour coming from your eyes and you can taste the salt as it hits the base of your mouth. Maybe it was the agitation from the summer’s heat or your exhaustion from studying but one things for sure and it’s that Iwaizumi’s hostility had struck a nerve on you.

You’re nearly a block away from your bus stop when a strong pair of arms suddenly engulf you from behind.

“Y/n. I didn’t mean to yell at you like that. Please talk to me.”

You can feel Iwaizumi’s chin coming to rest on your shoulder as he mutters his apologies.

When he hears no response from you, he turns you around and it’s the moment that he can finally see the tears flowing from your eyes. The sight of you breaks him even more.

He grazes your cheeks, catching each droplet of tear that had succeeded its escape. The sight of guilt in his face makes you sob even more. You know he didn’t mean it, he would never intend to hurt you. But you were tired, hot, and embarrassed from being yelled at in front of the whole team.

Iwaizumi leans his forhead against yours and closes his eyes. “I’m sorry Y/n, please let me make it up to you.”

You give him a slight nod, and that alone reassures him that it’ll be okay. With one final nudge of his palms he sends a kiss to your forehead before the two of you prepare to head to your respective homes.

#haikyuu #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x gn!reader #iwaizumi x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n

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sabxism · 3 years

Text

Please Don't Say you Love me

Pairing: Poe Dameron x gn!Reader

Based on Please Don't Say you Love me by Gabrielle Aplin:

Just please don't say you love me, Cause I might not say it back, Doesn't mean my heart stops skipping When you look at me like that

Word count: 915

Warnings: slight angst (happy ending), mentions of past toxic relationships

A/N: it's like 4am this is probably riddled with typos sorry lol

GIF from thestarwarsdaily

“Oh, come on, it’s not that bad,” you say, laughing.

“No, it’s absolutely awful,” Poe says, chuckling as he tosses a grape into the air and catches it in his mouth. The two of you were discussing a drawing BB-8 had somehow sketched out with his little stylus of the three of you. “Look, I love the little guy to death, but I looked like Chewie.” You laugh loudly, tilting your head back. Poe’s heart skips a beat. He grins as he watches pure joy blossom on your face. You glance back at him, propping your head on the heel of your hand.

“Oh!” you say, sitting up quickly and twisting around. “I just remembered.” Your boyfriend raises an eyebrow as you reach into your bag behind you and pull out a small, paper-wrapped parcel. You bite your lip as you hand it to him, watching excitedly as he tears through the brown packaging.

“Oh. My. Gods,” he says quietly, surveying the small book. “You found it?”

“Sorta,” you say, grinning. “Technically, Finn found it. He was on that supply run last week and saw it - he remembered me talking about wanting to get it for you and bought it.” The volume was filled with old Yavini fairytales - ones Poe would murmur to you when you couldn’t sleep. You’d asked him where he’d learned them, and he’d told you about a (much older) copy of this book that Shara would read to him when he was younger. Ever since that night, it had been your mission to find it.

“You are…” he trails off, flipping through the delicate pages. “Amazing.” You blush as he looks up at you and takes your hand in his. You lean towards him, and he meets you halfway, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. Your eyes meet as you break away, and a soft blush creeps into your cheeks as he looks at you with pure adoration. “I love you,” he says.

Your stomach drops, smile faltering.

“Oh-” you look down, panicked, and feel Poe tense.

“What?”

“Nothing, I just…” you trail off, not knowing what to say. Certainly not the words that just tumbled from Poe’s mouth - you don’t know how long it’s been since you said that. Since you’d had a reason to say it. “I can’t...I don’t…” Poe’s jaw clenches.

“Oh, I see,” he says. You can hear the hurt in his words, and it sends a jolt of guilt shooting through your chest.

“No, Poe, it’s not-”

“Forget it,” he says, standing up and walking away. Your resolve crumbles as his rigid form grows farther and farther from you, and hot tears spill from your eyes and trace down the bridge of your nose and the apples of your cheeks, falling onto the grass below you.

“I just don’t get it,” Poe says, frustratedly rubbing his eyes with his left hand. Rey listens from where she sits at her desk. “We’ve been together for...gods, for nearly a year now, and…” he trails off, throat closing up. His friend glances up from the HoloFile she’s been reviewing, tilting her head slightly.

“And what?”

“They acted like I stuck them with a hot poker,” he murmurs. “Do they want to break up? Did I do something? I just don’t understand.” Rey sighs, closing her datapad and making her way across the room to stand in front of him.

“You know what happened with their last relationship, right?” she says quietly, and his head snaps up. She waves a hand dismissively. “Not like that,” she reassures, and the pilot relaxes. “They just...it was hard on them. You need to give them time.” Poe’s face falls. He had been awful to you. He didn’t even give you a chance to explain, just...walked away. He sighs, upset with himself.

“Thanks, Rey,” he says, headed for the door.

“Anytime,” the brunette says, returning to her work.

Poe sees you sitting under the big tree by the pond once he makes his way outside, and walks over.

“Hey…” he says softly, and your head whips up. His chest grows tight as the slight shine on your face becomes evident. You’d been crying. And it was his fault. “Look, I’m sorry, baby, I-”

“No, Poe, I’m sorry, it's just-”

“You don’t have to explain, stardust,” he murmurs, sitting down next to you. He takes one of your hands in his. “It’s okay, really. I shouldn’t have reacted like that, I think I just got caught up in the moment, and, well…” he motions vaguely. You nod, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“It’s just hard for me to say,” you murmur as he rests his head on top of yours. “It doesn’t mean that I don’t, it’s just - it’s hard.” You feel him nod in understanding.

“That’s okay, sweetheart. Is it...is it alright if I say it?” he asks hesitantly, and you smile.

“Yeah,” you say, lifting your head to look into his eyes. A mischievous grin breaks across your face. “Any chance for me to be told how great I am is warmly welcomed.” He rolls his eyes, playfully jabbing you in the side. You cackle, shoving him lightly.

“Well then,” Poe says, smiling at you warmly. “Y/N L/N, I love you.” You blush furiously, burying your face in his shoulder. He grins, pressing a kiss to your hair. He wraps his arms around you and smiles. “Very, very much.”

taglist: @staarshines

#poe dameron #poe dameron fic #poe dameron/reader #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron fluff #poe dameron angst #star wars #star wars fic #star wars fluff #star wars angst #poe dameron fanfic #poe dameron fanfiction #fluff #angst #fluff and angst

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feral-dumbass · 4 years

Text

Funny You Should Ask

James “Bucky” Barnes/ Female Reader

Summary: The longer Bucky knife trains with you, the more sexually frustrated you get. Bucky is more than willing to help you with your problem.

Includes: Knife kink, Clothes being torn, Choking, Oral, Dirty Talk, Degradation, Unprotected sex, Size kink (you can’t convince me that Bucky’s not packing)

Words: 3,151

A/N: Hi, it’s me again. Helping to spread filth on the internet. Do I need to warn about public sex even though no one’s around? Either way y’all fuck on a counter in the common kitchen area. Title credit to The Front Bottoms. No need to listen to the song. Finding songs that somehow fit with my writing makes it easier to post. Tagging @babybluestan and @gagmebucky.

Masterlist 😊

Bucky Barnes is shirtless right in front of you and you can’t do anything about it. That teasing son of a bitch is only wearing black cargo pants and his tactical boots. An interesting choice of outfit, but you’re not complaining.

On a lazy Sunday, Bucky tries to teach you self defense with knives. He even got you your own knife. Expecting you to carry it around everywhere when you’re only at the compound and your apartment is a little extreme, but you’ll talk to him about it. Maybe after a blowjob.

Bucky’s stance is defensive, tilted away from you. One boot facing you and the other facing where Nat and Sam are lifting weights. His favorite knife is sheathed in leather pointing away from his chest. He’s smirking. His free hand is motioning for you to come at him.

You blow a tendril of hair out of your face before you attack him. You go in with your knife over your head. Bucky blocks with his forearm. In your attempt to drop your knife into your other hand like he’s done so many times before, Bucky intercepts your knife. This is the third time he’s done this. You’re starting to get frustrated in more ways than one.

Bucky flips your knife so the handle is facing you and holds it out. Stuck on the same move for the past thirty minutes. He won’t let you move on. You hyperfocus on a sweat droplet running down the ridge of his neck. “Again.” Your eyes tear away from his neck. He licks his bottom lip and nudges the knife forward.

You sigh, taking your knife from him. You go through the same motions and yet again, Bucky intercepts.

“You’re distracted.” Yeah, no shit. If this room was vacant, you’d have Bucky pounding your ass into the mat right now. You catch yourself rolling your eyes. Those super stealthy spy skills are certainly hard at work. Bucky senses your tension and flips his knife back into his pocket. “Let’s take a break.”

“Oh, thank god.” You push your knife closed ready to follow him out of the gym. Bucky’s dog tags clink together as he walks to the common area with you. You get distracted by the chain sitting at the base of his glistening neck before you’re grabbing his hand and dragging him to the kitchen. It’s weird to be able to hear your footsteps echo. Bucky’s steps are silent out of habit. The commons are empty, everybody off doing their own thing.

You jump up on the island counter and swing your legs. Your hand pinches his pocket, pulling him closer to you. Your other hand holds the back of his neck to bring his face closer down. You kiss him sweetly. Tongue only sweeping out to lick his bottom lip a little. You nip and suck on his bottom lip as he pulls away.

You manage to slip his knife out of his pocket before he walks to the fridge. You start fiddling with his knife, tossing it in the air. The weight of it more familiar. It’s a mini bowie knife about 8 inches long with a handle wrapped in leather and a matching sheath. Bucky doesn’t leave his room without it.

“What is with you today?” He rubs your spit off his lips before opening the fridge.

You shrug even though his defined back faces you. The knife almost clatters to the counter as you think about marking it up. “I-I don’t know. Just a little ornery I guess.”

“I thought you were doing well with the practice. What’s up?” He glances back over his shoulder.

“We’ve been working on the same move forever.” He closes the fridge, holding two water bottles in his big hand. You stop flipping his knife long enough for him to toss one to you.

“You’re getting the hang out of it. Just a few more times and I’ll stop torturing you.”

“Yeah right. It’s not like you’ve used that excuse before.” You’re grumbling underneath your breath as he brings the water bottle to his lips. This man is actually making you jealous of a piece of plastic.

“Heard that.” He mentions before drowning the water down. Fuck super hearing. You twirl his knife in the air. Water escapes out of the corner of his mouth, dripping down his chin to his neck. You want to lick the water off him. Your mouth suddenly feels very dry. You can’t watch it travel down his thick chest probably to stop somewhere around his abs. His knife bounces off your thigh and hits the counter top. Bucky raises an eyebrow at you and throws his emptied bottle in the recycling. This… This is torture.

“Sorry.” You’re sheepish as you pick his knife back up. You toss it back up, trying to distract yourself from your shirtless boyfriend. At its highest point, Bucky swipes it from you, handle in his palm.

“You should stop playing with knives.” He unsheathes the knife and flips it.

“You should stop being a fucking tease.” You use the exact same tone. “Do you know how much of a distraction you are being?”

“Uh yeah.” Bucky situates himself between your thighs. “Gawking at me for the past two hours speaks volumes.” He rolls his neck and drops his free hand on your spandex covered thigh, rubbing it soothingly.

Bucky uses his knife to lift the hem of your tank top away from you chest, exposing more of your cleavage. He looks down as you speak. “You knew?” You pull away from him a little pissed you didn’t get hot gym sex. Hell, you would have even let him take you in the showers. The sharp blade rips a line through your top.

“I like watching you squirm.” He mumbles. His eyes are transfixed on the tear, your cleavage peeking through. “Hey, quick question. How much are you invested in your outfit?” You know exactly what he’s thinking about with his eyes glazed over with lust still glued to your chest.

“If you’re using your knife, rip it to shreds.”

“I fucking love you.” He groans before smashing his lips against yours, teeth clacking together. You don’t give a fuck about it as Bucky rips open your tank top with his hands.

“Off.” He mumbles against your lips. He’s pulling on the top’s strap. You shrug it off, letting it fall to the floor. You turn your head, gasping out. Bucky presses his lips to the corner of your mouth, leaving a trail of kisses down to your jaw all the way to your neck.

“You can tear off my leggings too.” He groans, lips vibrating against your pulse. He eagerly reaches down and yanks at the skin tight spandex. Bucky almost makes you fly off the counter onto your ass in his haste. Bucky catches you and sits you back on the counter as you cackle and hang onto his neck.

“Sorry.” He can’t help but grin.

You hum as you scratch the back of his scalp. “You’re fine.” You’re giggles die down with Bucky’s final yank. The seams of your spandex finally give under Bucky’s strength. You get to witness the hottest sight. Bucky rips the leggings down your legs, biceps bulging as he throws the scrap of clothing over his shoulder. He drops down to his knees and grabs your foot to kiss your ankle. You lean back on your hands to enjoy the show. He trails kisses up your inner legs. Darkened grey eyes stay on yours.

He’s leaving hickies on the sensitive parts of your inner thigh when he finally notices the obscene wet patch of your panties. His teeth bite into your thigh. Stinging pain blooms before he can separate from your skin. You’re into Bucky’s teeth marks on your thigh. You’re not gonna lie. It’s hot.

He tries to blow cool air on the reddening mark in between multiple expletives. Eyes trained on the apex of your thighs, you‘d think you were wearing Bucky’s favorite lingerie. Nope, a plain black sports bra with simple underwear and Bucky’s drooling.

“Poor sweetheart. Soaking through your panties.” He rubs the wet patch through your underwear. “Bet your pussy’s just begging for my dick, yeah? How empty does your cunt feel without my cock, huh?” His fingers press down harder before they’re gone. He licks a stripe up your panties. You can feel the wet heat of his tongue from your entrance to your clit. He kisses your clit through the cotton.

Your eyes roll back as you stammer his name. You gather the strength to shove him off as he continues to mouth through your panties. You’re panting trying to find words. “I’ve been ready for y-your cock all day, you fucking tease.” You pull his arm up to get him standing.

He finally stands as he leans down to kiss your cheek. You reach for his pants, unfastening his belt at a speed even you are surprised at.

“Oh, if you were gonna get this desperate, I should have teased you sooner.” You ignore the bastard’s comment and unbutton his pants. You pull down the zipper, tugging down his pants. That fucking prick is just as turned on as you. You lick your palm before stuffing your hand down his boxers and gripping his cock. You twist and pump at a speed he likes.

You admire the flutter of his eyelashes as he moans out. “Wait, wait, wait.” His hips arch into your touch. “You’re so damn insistent right now. I’m gonna cum in my pants.” The knife scrapes against the counter when he picks it up.

You pause. “Bucky, if you cum right now, I’ll kill you.”

“I fucking know. Get your hand out of my boxers.” You slip your hand out of the black cotton. “Act like this and you can get my cock anytime.” He slides the knife under the band of your sports bra and uses his free hand to stretch the fabric across the sharp blade. With his strength, it tears easily. “Arms up.” You raise your arms in the air. He does the same process with each band at your sides. It’s like the knife is sliding through butter with his expertise. Excitement runs through you. Bucky grabs the fabric off your back and throws it with the rest of the scraps.

His chest rumbles, groaning at the sight of your bare breasts. “Can never get tired of these.” He leaves an open mouth kiss on top of each breast.

“James, please, the task at hand.” You’re ushering him on before he can suck one into his mouth.

“Can’t help it, baby. Look at you all sprawled out for me. If I don’t drown you in attention, who am I?” He kisses your swollen lips, sucking on your tongue as he moves his knife to your underwear. The knife tears smoothly through the band on each thigh. He reluctantly pulls away from you and pushes you down your shoulder for you to lay fully back. The cool granite feels nice against your hot skin. He slips the broken cotton off you and pulls your thighs closer to the edge. “Fuck.” His groan is drawn out. Your pussy glistens under the fluorescent lights for him. “Stunning. I’m so hard for you right now. Fucking gorgeous.” Before either of you can think, Bucky is bringing his knife up. The handle easily slides through your drenched folds. He circles your clit before going back down, barely dipping into your entrance.

“As much as I love the idea you fucking me with the knife handle, can I please have your cock now?” The pressure of the handle is lost as Bucky pulls his boxers down.

“Yes, but I will bring up that concept later.” Bucky pushes his dick into you. You’re whimpering. It’s a challenge taking Bucky’s cock no matter how turned on you are. Although, you’re arching your hips trying to get him deeper as he stretches out your walls slowly.

He takes the opportunity while you adjust to his sizable width to slam his knife into the countertop a few feet away from your head. The marble splinters from the strength and he leans down to finally catch a breast in his mouth. He’d never hurt you. You trust Bucky more than anyone else, but the show of brute strength has you clenching Bucky’s cock in a vice grip. It’s one of the hottest things he’s done and that’s a long list. Bucky groans against your chest. His hand is splayed right next to your head and one hand reaches down to his cock as he leans up. He has to squeeze the base so he’s not cumming prematurely.

“Do you think I can lather your chest in hickies in peace? You can’t avoid it. You know? You're gonna get them either way.” Tendrils from his messy bun fall from his hair as he stares down lovingly at you. You raise your chest as you try to take him deeper.

“S-sorry.” Bucky is the epitome of heart eyes as you stutter. You have to literally wait for you to calm down before either of you can move.

He sweeps sweaty tendrils off your temple before cupping your cheek. You’re in love with the feel of his calloused fingertips against your soft skin. “You don’t have to apologize. I’m totally going to make you do that again.” He pets your cheek adoringly as you huff.

“Will you- FUCK.” He cuts off your complaint halfway through as he pulls out and thrusts deep inside you.

“Huh, what was that? Too busy on my cock for a coherent sentence?” Bucky leans his hand back on the counter near your head and you hold onto his forearm. You stretch out your neck. He continues thrusting as he clicks his tongue. “What a good whore.” He places his free hand on your neck. Not pressing down or anything. Just stroking your hummingbird pulse under his thumb. You swallow as the ghost of the airy light feeling creeps into the synapses of your brain. Without a word, your free hand lays over Bucky’s hand wrapped around your throat and squeeze. Bucky groans when he gets the memo.

“Please.” You whimper as his calloused fingertips press down on the sides of your throat. Your groan is long, welcoming the real feeling of floating like an old friend. Your eyes flutter shut.

“You know I was hoping I could fuck my girlfriend without choking her for once, but you’re too much of a slut for it. Aren’t you, baby?” He squeezes down just a bit harder. Your undulating pussy makes him restless. He stands again. Hand still around your neck as he licks the pads of his metal fingers, bringing them down to tease your clit. He circles the nub slowly. Small shocks of pleasure travel through your nerves. You can feel just a fraction of his weight against your neck. He knows what he’s doing. Leaning a bit into you.

“Y-yeah.” You sigh, breath hitching at his rough thrusts picking up. His cock hits sensitive depths within you. You can practically feel Bucky in your tummy. “L-love your… your- fuck- hands. Bucky, sweetheart, p-please touch me.” His fingers pick up speed against your clit. You smile lazily, happy he didn’t make you beg for it. Your glazed eyes open to stare at him heavy lidded, tongue darting out to lick your bottom lip. Bucky curses at the sight.

“My hands, huh? Is that what you were imagining? My hands wrapped around your throat as I make this pretty pussy cream?”

“D-don’t forget the… the… the…” Your brain is forgetting words as the spring in your abdomen starts to coil. The pressure on your throat loosens, but his hand doesn’t move. Both of your hands make sure his stay in place wrapped around his wrist and forearm.

“The knife. Right.” He scoffs out a laugh and grins. His own pace makes him catch his breath. “Getting stupid, baby?”

You nodd, tongue too heavy and head foggy. So fucking close.

“Why don’t you cum for me, pretty girl. Wanna feel this wet pussy cream around me.” He’s squeezing lightly again. “C’mon, don’t you wanna be a good girl.” He coos. You do. You do want to be a good girl.

And… the spring pops free. You cry out his name in between expletives. Your orgasm soaking his cock. Your ears ring and your feet arch. Bucky always manages to make you feel so euphoric during sex. Maybe he should put that on his resume. Bucky Barnes. Esteemed Avenger. Pussy destroyer.

“Such a fucking beautiful sight. You’re goddamn gorgeous.” Bucky praises as you come to. His thrusts pick up even more speed if that’s possible. You allow him to take his hand off your neck and he slides it down your chest. Temporarily, stopping at your breasts to roll a nipple in between his index and thumb. He stops to splay a hand at your tummy. “Baby girl. Sweetheart. Honey. Sweet ass. Will you please look down?”

You entertain Bucky and lean on your elbows to look down. Your cunt clenches Bucky’s cock in deeper at the sight. Both of you are at just the right angle for your lower tummy to bulge. When you were feeling his formidable cock in your stomach, he was literally in your lower tummy.

“This is what made you so fucking stupid. Look.” His palm rubs the pulsing bulge. “Made you forget sentences halfway through.” You cocky boyfriend pats the bulge before he’s grabbing both sides of your hips. Fingers indent the soft skin, jerking your hips to meet his cock.

With a mini orgasm sneaking up on you and making your pussy tremble, he only lasts a few more thrusts. Bucky’s Adam’s apple bobs in a groan. Fingernails digging little crescent shapes as his warmth scorches your insides. Seems like a heavy orgasm for him too. Better get comfortable.

You hook your finger into his chain and pull him down to kiss your bitten lips. His lips are so soft. You could kiss this man all day. However, He has other plans. He nips your bottom lip, sucking on it before he travels his kisses south. You know exactly where he’s going. You thought it was unusual to leave such few hickies. Sure enough, he stops at your breasts. He alternates between open mouth kisses and leaving marks.

“You know… we’re naked and our place is like five levels up.” He mumbles against your chest before licking at your sweat and sucking a hickey into your skin.

You hum, unwrapping his scrunchy and running your hand through his damp hair. He moans as you scratch his scalp. “You could wear your boxers. You think I can fit into your pants?”

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