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queenimmadolla · 11 months

Note

Eddie Munson. Love. Established relationship

𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩

“I cannot believe them.” Steve huffed out, hands resting on his hips as his foot tapped against the asphalt outside of the police station.

“You already said that,” Jonathan blanched, leaning back against the hood of his car while Argyle closely examined his own hands for whatever reason.

“Well, I can’t!” He snapped again and Eddie smirked, thoroughly amused with the situation. And worried.

He was also very worried.

Half an hour ago, he’d been in the trailer, eating mac and cheese straight from the pot when the phone rang.

It was Hopper. Specifically, Chief Hopper. As in, on duty, Chief Hopper. Eddie had immediately jumped into a monologue about how he hadn’t done anything and even if he did, Hopper had no proof of it but Hopper wasn’t calling to tell Eddie he had six cop cars in route.

He was calling to tell Eddie to come pick up his girlfriend, who had gotten into a bar brawl.

He’d raced the fuck over and was surprised to see the other guys pull up as well, though he probably shouldn’t have given the fact you’d gone out with Robin, Nancy and Eden.

What the fuck kind of trouble could that roster have gotten into???

Enough to warrant being taken to the police station.

Hopper had informed him you’d all be getting warnings, leeway you all got most definitely just because he was now Jonathan’s stepdad.

“It can’t have been that bad,” Eddie rolled his eyes when Steve froze in his irritable mom-pose and slowly turned to face him.

“Can’t have been that bad—WE’RE AT THE POLICE STATION!”

“Would you rather it be a courtroom?” Eddie asked, cocking an eyebrow. He pitied Buckley for the scolding she’d no doubt get from Steve on their drive home.

“I’d rather not have to pick her up from anywhere other than her house or work!”

“Calm down, Mother Hen. It was probably nothing,”

It was definitely something.

The doors to the station opened, Nancy was the first out with Robin trailing her, you following Robin and Eden on your heels.

You all looked like you had definitely been involved in a fight, clothes rumpled and torn, hair a mess and Nancy sported a bloody lower lip. She started crying the moment she was in Jonathan’s arms, but he didn’t think it was because of her lip or even the fight, Nancy was just a very emotional drunk and her staggering was an obvious sign of intoxication.

You skipped right over to him and Eddie knew you were drunk, too.

“Hi, baby! I missed ya!” You sang as you slipped your arms around his waist to press yourself up against him for a hug, side of your face resting against his chest.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Eddie grabbed you by the shoulders, gently trying to pry you away from him so he could look you over for injuries but you refused to release your hold. The most he could do was get you to crane back a little so you could look at him.

“Neva’ betta’. Why?” You asked, cocking your head and beaming up at him.

Eddie’s face broke out into a grin.

“Because a little birdy told me you were in a scrap.”

You were about to reply before the sound of Steve and Robin arguing with each other distracted you and you turned your head to watch them.

Eddie had to physically turn it back, and he was laughing as he did.

“C’mon, buttercup, I need you to stay with me, yeah?”

He held your chin between his thumb and forefinger, dipping his head to the side to catch your stare and you went back to beaming at him, eyes crinkled.

“I’ll stay with you forever.”

Fuck, you were so cute.

“That’s not really what I meant, baby, but I had no plans on letting you go. What happened tonight?”

You scoffed, arms dropping to your sides as you took a couple of steps back and glared at nothing.

“You wouldn’t freakin’ believe it, babe! Me and my girls,” You gestured to Nancy who was being coddled by Jonathan, Robin who was now scolding Steve, and Eden who was high-fiving Argyle, “were out having fun, getting sloshed—I had so many midori sours, baby, so many and my throw up is gonna be green—when alluvasudden Carol fuckin’ Perkins and her group of raggedy bitches comes up to us.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shot up. He knew just how much you despised Carol. You two hadn’t been exactly friendly back in high school.

“And I’m like ‘oh wow, Carol, I was actually hoping to never fucking see you again.’ But she wasn’t there for me, babe. She was there ‘cause of Robin.” You leaned in to whisper the last sentence to him.

“I din’t even fuckin’ know it—but I should’ve ‘cause like the resemblance is there, isn’t it? Like they look kind of like each other, you know?”

“No, baby. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” But Eddie was thoroughly invested in the drama, shifting his position to lean up against the van.

“Oh, yeah!” You laughed, amused that you knew and he didn’t. “Carol is Vickie’s cousin.”

Eddie’s eyes widened comically, sending you into a fit of giggles.

Vickie was Robin’s ex….something. Towards the end of senior year, Vickie had broken up with her long time boyfriend. On the rebound, looking for some attention to prove she was still wanted as most do after a breakup, she’d entertained Robin’s infatuation with her.

They were always together, never affectionate in public, for obvious reasons, though Robin implied they were something. Then, it stopped. Vickie and her boyfriend got back together and she never even gave Robin proper closure, just stopped talking to her, stopped taking her phone calls and obviously avoided her.

It had been an unfortunate situation, the entire group pulled together to cheer Robin up but she got over it, met another girl, and they were an official couple. Girlfriend and girlfriend. She was away for a family thing and Robin couldn’t get the time off, which is why the girls had all gone out for a night to distract her.

“Carol is Vickie’s cousin!?” He whispered back in disbelief, hand flying over his mouth.

“Yeah!”

“So where does the fighting come in—is that blood?!” Eddie nearly had a heart attack as he noticed the red splatter on the front of your shirt. He hadn’t seen it earlier because you’d been glued to him.

You glanced down, taking the hem of your shirt in your hands to flare it out so you could see it better, “Oh, yeah! ‘S not mine, though. ‘S Carol’s. She told Robin people like her weren’t allowed in the bar, so I punched her a couple times and her friends started fighting us but we kicked their asses, baby!”

Eddie stared at you, eyes clouded with adoration and awe.

You’d been dating for a while now, and every single damn day Eddie thought he found another thing he loved about you. Every. Single. Day.

And right then, in that moment, Eddie was finally able to express what he’d been thinking, feeling for the last couple of months. It wasn’t really the things you did that he loved about you. Eddie just loved you.

He needed you to know.

“I am so in love with you,” He breathed out, hands reaching out to latch onto your waist and draw you back into him.

He was about to go on his spew about how you didn’t have to say it back and he just wanted you to know but you caught him by surprise, took the breath right out of him.

“I love you, too, Eds. Can we go home now? I’m hungry.”

Eddie blinked, knees weak.

“Baby, I don’t think you know what I’m sayi—“

“You said you love me and I love you, too. I’m drunk, baby, I can still hear you.” You sagged into him, head craned up to give him those eyes of yours.

“You love me?” He whispered, hand moving to tenderly cup the back of your head.

“Mhm.” You nodded, leaning up on your toes as Eddie met you halfway in a passionate kiss. He was about to tease your mouth open with his tongue when Hopper pushed his way out of the station.

“HEY! KNOCK IT OFF! GO HOME!”

Eddie laughed against your mouth as you pouted before he pulled away and ushered you into the van. Once you were buckled, he headed around to the driver’s side and took note of how meek Steve looked as he got into the driver’s seat of his own car. If Eddie didn’t know any better, he’d think it was Steve who got into trouble with the law, and Robin picking him up from the station.

Jonathan, Nancy, Argyle and Eden were long gone.

You were fiddling with the radio when he hopped in.

“It’s not working,” you frowned, continuing to press buttons.

“Sweetheart, the car’s not on.”

“Oh.”

Eddie loved you so much.

#vivi's baby blurbs #this was a little longer than a baby one but it was so fun to write #eddie munson x reader #boyfriend!eddie munson #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson blurbs #eddie munson fanfic

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shubblelive · 7 months

Text

— NOT MUCH LONGER

summary : wilbur has always been dedicated to his viewers, sometimes too much. his fans are aware of this, you are aware of this, and he is aware of this. so when you go multiple days without seeing your boyfriend because of how hard he's working you take matters into your own hands, not realising that thousands of people are there watching you do it.

genre : fluff

warnings : mentions of eating/food, a few swearwords, wilbur not taking care of himself, very small panicky moment

pairing : cc!wilbur soot x fem!reader

pronouns : she/her, reader is called wilbur's girlfriend/wife

featuring : cc!wilbur soot

requested : Could you do a fic where the reader isn’t a very public person (in regards to the internet) and one day, wilbur’s streaming and she goes in and brings him some food and kisses him, not knowing he was live, and when she notices, she just gets all red and embarrassed and wilbur goes out of frame with her and its just all fluffy, and the chat goes craaazy

word count : 1.3K

note : hi lmao. i know, i know it's been nearly 2 months since i 've posted anything. school really caught p to me, i was so stressed out i was crying like multiple times a day for a few weeks. i wanna thank you guys for your patience, i have one more week of classes before spring break and then exams are right after that so i am really unsure of how much free time i'm gonna have until like mid-november.

There was a lot of things that you loved about Wilbur. Of course there was, the two of you had been together since university, nearing on 5 years. Knowing for someone that long, though, and there were obviously aspects of your boyfriend that you were less than fond of. There weren’t a lot, but the main one was the fact that he was a major workaholic.

You were completely understanding of how important his job was to him. He had been doing it longer than you’d even known each other and you’d never want to do anything to make it seem like you were anything less than supportive.

But the last couple of weeks had been driving you crazy.

He’d be out all day filming for twenty different videos or in the studio - that was fine, you had your own work and hobbies to keep you occupied. But then he’d get home and it was straight to editing, or writing, or meetings for merch, album art, new videos. It had gotten to the point where you hadn’t even seen him in two days. You knew he’d been home, you vaguely heard the shower running while you were asleep, so tired you couldn’t bring yourself to lift your head. Clothes had been added to the laundry hamper, and water glasses had been added to the sink. He’d messaged you, of course. You were high on his list of priorities, it being a no-brainer that whenever he got a free minute he was texting you to let you know where he was going, promising that he’d be home soon.

When you got home from work, you were pleasantly surprised to find his docs at the front door, neatly kicked to the side so they were out of the way along with the rest of your collective pile. You put your stuff down and practically floated around the house, searching for your boyfriend. Not in the kitchen, though the dishes had been done for you, left to dry. Not in the living room, though there was a coat draped over the back of the couch that you picked up and deposited in the bedroom (also empty, but his side of the bed was rumpled like he’d fallen straight on top of the blankets).

You were walking down the hallway when you finally heard him. He was talking softly, not outside of the norm for him. His office wasn’t soundproof, and you often heard him through the walls as you went about your day, whether that was laughing loudly as he streamed, or the muffled sound of him strumming his guitar, trying to write a new song. He was being quiet, probably editing a video. You knew he had his own room in the group office, just for him to edit, but he liked to bring them home sometimes.

You went back into the kitchen to dry the dishes for Wilbur and you noted that there weren’t any new plates added to the pile. You knew that Wilbur had eaten while he was gone, he’d texted you every time they ordered food, but you also knew that it had been a couple of days since his last home cooked meal. You, admittedly didn’t have much in the pantry, but it was made with love, which was the thought that counts.

That was the thought on the tip of your tongue as you knocked gently on the door, a plate of mac and cheese and a glass of water in hand, smile breaking out at the sight of your boyfriend at his desk.

Wilbur’s viewers had always been aware that he had a girlfriend. He mentioned you for the first time after you guys had been together for a year, and since then you were a sporadic presence in his online life, maybe a mention every couple of weeks or months. They didn’t know anything else though, not even your name. His viewers, over the past couple of years had developed their own nicknames for you. It started from one of the first streams you were mentioned in, someone in chat asked if you were Wilbur’s wife. He’d laughed, said no, and then tried to say you were not his wife, and instead pronounced it “wiff.” It got slightly out of hand over the years, with most people lovingly referring to you online as wiffleball. Wilbur had apologised profusely for the slip up, but you found it too funny to actually care. It was definitely weird for you to see, though, the phrase ‘Wiffleball’ randomly trending every couple of months.

So, they didn’t know your name, and they definitely didn’t know your face. Wilbur was usually on high alert for even your footsteps outside the door, let alone you wanting to come inside. He’d yell that he was live, and you’d wait dutifully at the door for him to come outside. It was more for your sake than his, but he cared just as much about your right to privacy as you did. But today, he was so preoccupied with the fact that he hadn’t seen you in nearly three days that he completely forgot to.

The monitor with his own face in it was tilted away from the door, and you were so entranced by the smile on his face that you didn’t notice until it was too late. He was standing to meet you, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Hi, lovely, I’ve missed you.”

“Missed you too, Wil,” Your hands were on his arms the second you placed the food down, and you were right about to kiss him properly when you saw a fast movement out the corner of your eye. His chat was whizzing by so fast that you almost couldn’t read it. You backed out of frame immediately, almost out of instinct, wide eyes meeting Wilbur’s. “You’re streaming?”

“Fuck,” Wilbur made sure that you were definitely out of the frame before putting his stream back on the loading screen and going back to check on you.

Your breathing was much faster than usual and he could all but see your heart jumping out of your chest. “I am so sorry, darling, I was too busy being happy to see you that I completely forgot that I was even streaming. Are you okay?”

Your hands found Wilbur’s shirt, clenching it between your fists and burying your face in the fabric across his chest. His hands were securely on your back as he held you while you calmed your breathing. You weren’t crying no, he could tell you just needed to slow your breaths down and you’d be alright. He was whispering reassurances in your ear and within a few minutes your heart had calmed down. “I’m alright.”

“I’m so sorry,” Wilbur launched immediately into apologies again but your vice grip on his shirt stopped him.

“I’m alright, Wilbur.” You strangely were alright. What you could see on the chat were all nice things, they were all so excited to see you. “Never want to go back on your stream again, but I’m okay with them seeing me.”

“You don’t have to be okay, love, if you’re not. I’ll get the VOD taken down when I’m done and edit you out and say something about not circulating the video, I am so sorry-”

“I’m fine, Wilbur.” You pulled the fabric closer to your chest, the movement effectively silencing him. “Like I said. I am still good not showing up on your streams and stuff, but you can leave the video up. I’m alright with it, I promise.”

He softened at your determined face. “I love you,” he said in place of another apology. “I love you, and I am still sorry that I forgot to tell you. No more until you say so, I promise.”

“Thank you,” you said earnestly, loosening your grip on his shirt. “I’ll let you finish up now, do you think you’ll be a while?”

Wilbur kissed you softly before sitting back in his chair and looking up at you full of love. “Trust me, I definitely won’t be much longer.”

#wilbuh #wilbur soot fluff #wilbur x y/n #wilbur soot imagine #wilbur soot x reader fluff #wilbur soot headcanons #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot fic #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot fanfiction #wilbur soot angst

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boredzillenial · 4 months

Text

Biting

You make good on your word to Steven with some, unforeseen hiccups.

Themes: f!reader awkwardness, mention of masterbation, oral (reader receiving), biting, piv, creampie

Word count: 3.1k (don't look at me like that I got carried away)

A.N.: This part 3 of the College AU, if you haven’t already go read Part 1 and Part 2!

How you're going to survive the next few hours, you aren’t quite sure. With that eager look in Steven’s eyes you take a step back. “Tonight, let me get my roomie out for the night and I’ll text you, okay?”

“How long.” His quiet desperation sends your heart pounding faster.

“Just a bit.” You glance at your phone. “We’ve still got like 3 hours of work left.” You make your way around him with your half empty cart, blood rushing in your ears. “Just, try to finish that and it’ll be over before you know it.”

He nods, “Yeah, I can try.” his voice a bit shaky as he heads in the opposite direction.

The time passes like molasses, with every step you can feel the absolute mess sitting in your panties. The sensation making it nearly impossible to focus. You have to deal with this soon.

Finally you empty your cart and head to the elevator, glancing around with no sign of Steven. One last glance and you head down, puzzled when you make it to the storage room and still don’t see him. You shrug it off and head to the staff toilet.

With the door shut and the light leaking from the crack at the bottom you roll your eyes and wait. A few too many minutes pass when curiosity gets the better of you. As you lean in you can here something but you aren’t quite sure, then a choked whimper echoes behind the door, “Shit… ah fuckkk.” The panting behind the door worsening your current status of your underwear. “Bollocks - my sweater.”

Rustling behind the door sends you panicking. You take a few steps back, hiding behind a shelf and peeking through the books as you wait for Steven to come out.

Finally he exits, furiously rubbing a wet paper towel on his sweater. The flush of pink from his release still bright across his face. He looks around cautiously, tosses the paper towel in the trash and hastily grabs the next cart full of books.

Once he's out of sight you slip into the bathroom and quickly lock the door behind you. All at once the smell of soap and cum smacks into your senses. You try as fast as you can to clean yourself up, stuffing toilet paper in your underwear before heading back out. By the time you exit your senses are swimming while you grab the next cart and check the time. Just a little while longer…

That little while flies by when Donna’s hard stare bores into you, “There’s still all that left what's a matter with you?!” She scolds.

“Sorry sorry,” you duck and make your way up to the second floor. Depositing the books in their proper place as quickly as you can. A sudden buzz in your pocket makes you nearly jump out of your skin.

Payment Received from Jake

You roll your eyes then get a text, from Steven.

was gonna wait for you but Donna keeps giving me a stink eye. Txt me when I can come over yeah?

You quickly send your reply to Steven and fill the shelves faster than you thought possible. Grabbing your jacket you hastily shoot another text, this time to your roomie to find someplace else to hang out for a couple hours. You bolt across campus and just as your running into the lobby of the dormitory you see her laying across the couch, head in the lap of a girl. Probably the one from last night, “Hell yeah go get it!” You hear her cheer you on as you bolt to the elevator.

One you make your way into your room you hastily clean, opting to kick the remaining loose clothing under your bed. You turn to clean off your cluttered desk till you spot a rumpled t-shirt on your chair, Steven’s shirt. A cheeky thought enters your mind as you change into it, the hem barely long enough to cover your bare pussy and most of your ass.

You walk over to the full length mirror hanging next to the door to admire yourself, adjusting the shirt and staring at your bare legs. “You’ve got this, he’s the virgin, you know what you’re doing.” You try to talk yourself up, it comes out more like you’re trying to convince yourself.

Just as you’re about to continue you hear an urgent knock at the door. “What the fuck-“ you whisper, peeking through the peep hole, “Marc, what are you doing?”

He jumps slightly, “Jake told me what happened, I just wanted to say sorry - for that.”

“I’ve already been paid off but thanks for the apology, you can go now!” Trying to keep the annoyance from your voice proves difficult as you turn to continue your hasty clean up.

“Can we talk? I’d like to apologize face to face, I feel like an idiot for how I reacted when we saw you in Steven’s bed.” He pushes the doorknob and the door opens a crack.

“Hey! Privacy!” You shriek as you lean against the door, glaring at the glimpse of him in the mirror. His eyes go wide, in this position bracing against the door the shirt did absolutely nothing to cover your rear.

“Fuck sorry!” He squeezes his eyes shut and stumbles back, the door slams sending you nearly sprawling on the floor.

You hear his panicked footsteps fade down the hall. Jesus Christ these brothers are gonna be the end of you. You try to shake off that in the span of a day - you’ve caught Jake fucking in the library, Marc just saw your entire naked ass, and you were about to take Steven’s virginity.

Anxiety began to claw its way up your throat. “It’s too much, this is too much I - Fuck he’s gonna hate me I, I just can’t do this tonight.” You go to text Steven when a softer knock sounds at the door. You peek and lo-and-behold it’s him. You crack the door open a tad “Hey I was just about to text you-“ your excuse is cut short as he pushes his way inside, grasping your face in his hands and kissing you in that same hungry way from earlier. Okay maybe you could do this.

“Hang on.” You say breathlessly as you shut and lock the door.

Steven uses the moment to rake his eyes over you, “Is that my shirt again?” He smiles softly “I think you’ll really like Avatar Kyoshi.”

“Who?” You look down at the front of the shirt, taking in the woman on the front with her painted face and battle pose.

“Nevermind, I’ll show you later.” He grins as he eagerly pulls his sweater up and over his head. Muscle and smooth skin with a whisper of a soft tummy sends your heart pounding.

“Steven I-“ he undoes his belt, the sound of his pants and boxers hitting the linoleum are the only sound in the room as you bite your lip. Fucksake why is it the quiet ones that are always packing. His cock looks hard as stone as he stands infront of you, a drop of precum already at the tip.

“Sorry I don’t know how any of this really works. You can just, tell me what to do yeah?” He looks like he’s nearly shivering with anticipation, or maybe from holding himself back.

You can feel slickness gathering as you take a long look at him. His gaze glued to your exposed legs as you take him by the hand and lead him to sit on the edge of your bed.

“I’m gonna start with kissing and touching you, then when you’re ready we can move on to more.” You say softly, his hands glide across your thighs, then toy with the hem of the shirt. “I’m on birth control, and I’ve been tested recently. So to make it special we can go without a condom if you’re comfortable.”

His eyes light up as he looks up at you. “You sure?” You bite your lip a moment and nod, eliciting a groan from him. His hands glide, touching your soft mound. His breath catches as he slides his hand further still to the slickness gathering there.

He gulps, “I, I need to know. Is anything off limits? Like any parts of your body or, or anything specific?” His voice his nearly shaking.

“Huh? Uh I guess not - OH!” He lunges forward, your sentence ends with a gasp as he buries his face between your legs. Kneeling on the tile he laps and sucks at your folds. You dig your fingers into his curls, “Fuck Steven that’s - ah fuck that’s good.”

His tongue is hungry and searching, not getting much further than your clit as he presses his face into you. “Get on the bed.” He breathes against your center as he adjusts, managing to send you stumbling onto the bed with a giggle.

Once on your back, ass at the edge of the bed he spreads your legs wide. His breath catching as he looks you over, you can feel heat rising up your throat and face as he gazes. Then, slowly you feel the light press of his fingers through your folds.

You bite back a groan as he continues to explore, gliding and barely pressing into you. You look down to see him eagerly staring up at you. “I wanna make you feel good. Tell me how love.”

“Steven tonight is supposed to be about you.” You chuckle “Do what you wan- shit.” yet again he interrupts you with his tongue as he dives into your channel. He drags his tongue out, swirling up to your clit then back down into you. It’s like he can’t decide which he’d rather do.

He shifts, putting your legs over his shoulders as he presses his tongue deeper into you. Your legs are already quivering as he continues to tongue-fuck you. “S-Steven you don’t have to -” You pant.

He pulls away a moment. “I want to. Gods I want it all.” He adjusts his focus to lapping at your clit. Your senses are swimming as you feel his hands knead at your thighs and ass. You weren’t sure whether this was the wettest you’d ever been because of your own juices or if he was drooling. Whatever the combination, it was dripping down your ass onto the floor.

His tongue swirls and works over your core till you’re writhing. At one point you’re nearly jumping from the pressure on your bundle of nerves. Your fingers twist into his curls, grabbing a handful and slowing his pace till your thighs clamp around his head. His whimpers and groans humming against your core send you crashing over the edge.

Your body goes slack and his hands shift, spreading you wide. He pulls away to look at you again, his lips and chin glistening. “What about,” his thumb presses against your tight rim, managing to slip in to his first knuckle from the slickness gathered there.

Your eyes shoot open as you jolt away. “Woah!” You gasp. “One thing at a time.” You laugh breathlessly.

He pulls back, looking momentarily defeated. “Some other time?”

“Yeah,” you nod, shifting to kneel on the bed. “Lay down.” You pat the pillow and pull his hand forward. He climbs on and lays down. “Well since you’ve tossed my plan out the window,” you chuckle “Do you want to feel my mouth or me.” You slide your hand down to your mound and swirl your fingers around your clit.

“Can I feel you? Please I- I don’t think I can wait much longer.” His beg comes out wrecked. "I want this off," he breathes as he pull his shirt off you in one swift tug.

You grin, straddling across his lap and settling. You begin to roll your hips, gliding the slickness across his shaft and gods the heat of him against you was driving you mad. You reach down and point him upward, slowly sinking onto the tip. You shiver at sensation and continue, he stretches your soaking channel deliciously.

A choked whimper echos in the dorm room as his hips buck up. “Feels so good,” he grabs your hips, pushing himself to the hilt. You try to lift off, the stretch all at once overwhelming your senses. “Stay oh gods please stay.” He pleads loudly, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you tight against him.

“Steven,” you pant “Steven it’s too much,” the slight burn fades to pleasure as he pulls out, only to thrust deeply again.

“ ‘s not enough. I’m sorry it’s, it's not enough.” His broken pleas shoot lighting to your core as he sets a frantic, uneven pace. “Oh gods thank you, I’m sorry, thank you.”

You hear banging on the wall beside you, “Shhh. Fuckkk - we’ve gotta b-be quieter.”

His unrelenting broken pleas continue, thank you, I’m sorry, thank you. You hear more banging on the wall and in a moment of panic you lean back, pulling him up with you to bury his face between your breasts and stifle his resounding pleas.

The moment his nose bumps against your chest he turns, biting the side of your breast and whimpering against your skin. You hiss against the sting and look down. His mess of curls have fallen across his forehead and his brows furrow as the blush of pleasure spreads across his cheeks.

You tug on his curls to get him to release, his eyes half lidded as they look up at you. They then lower to look at the mark he made and you could feel him pulse inside you. “S-sorry.” He stammers.

“Don’t be,” you lean forward, kissing him deeply and sliding your tongue across his lips. He pulses again and groans into your mouth. His hips struggling to roll with the way you're straddling him.

Before you realize what’s happening your back hits the mattress. He leans forward kissing and nipping at your neck. He trails across your skin until he reaches your shoulder and bites down. You cry out, body arching, the sound seems to only encourage him as he shifts to bite down on your other breast.

Steven’s hips continue their frantic pace as he bites and sucks across your neck and chest. And just when that familiar tightness winds in your core he shifts again, this time lifting your legs and pinning them higher with his arms, his thighs caging you in and pressing deeper into you.

“Fuck, feel so good. Mating press feels to good.” He groans, in this new position with your legs wide you were at the mercy of his frenzied pace.

“The, what?” You ask breathlessly.

“N-nothing nevermind.” He pants. He slows down a moment, grinding against you, you whimper at the pressure against your clit.

“S-Steven I, I’m gonna come.” Your legs shake with the oncoming sensation.

“Fuck - me too.” In the same breath your channel flutters around him. The squeeze around his length is blinding as he pumps rope after rope into you.

Steven slowly adjusts, releasing your legs for them to drape them his hips as he presses his forehead against yours. “Y-you alright?” He asks shakily, his unsteady breaths fanning across your face as his mahogany gaze searches your eyes.

A lazy smile spreads across your lips as you nod. “Better than alright.”

His eyes shift down to the marks he’s left across your skin. Then, oh so slowly, he places a soft kiss on every one of them. “Sorry, got a little carried away.” He whispers.

You reciprocate his kisses with one of your own on his cheek. “It’s alright. Really.” He peers at your face, looking for something but your not quite sure what. “Come on, let’s clean up.” You tap his side, he moves a little too quickly and winces as his oversensitive softening cock slips free.

You bite back a smile and while you wanted to help him down from his high, you were worried about him getting clingy. For the next hour or so help put him back together and give a quick cuddle before sending him back to his room. He leaves with half-lidded eyes a contented smile as he shuffles off to his room.

You toss on a large hoodie and sweats, texting your roomie the all clear. She comes bounding in with a smirk, “You gotta fill me in! I need details”

“It’s nothing I was,” you search for how to explain what just happened. “Doing a friend a favor.” You chuckle and awkwardly rub the back of your neck.

Your roomies eyes go wide as the lock onto your neck, “Help a friend?! Bitch you did not!” She squeals and pulls your collar back, revealing the bites and hickeys across your shoulder. “Wait, that guy in the hall… Did you… All this from little Stevie?!”

“It’s Steven actually,” you tug the collar from her grasp and pull your hood up. “Turns out, not little…” you can't quite bite back the grin playing at the edge of your lips.

“Oh, my, god you gotta tell me everything!” She laughs and jumps onto her bed.

“Absolutely not, I think all these say enough.” You tease.

“All what?” You jolt at the voice behind you, you whip around to see Jake standing in the open doorway.

Quickly you tug on the drawstring of your hoodie. “All nothing, and way to invite yourself into the conversation.”

Jake shrugs “You weren’t responding to my texts, and I brought a peace offering.” He smirks and pulls a bottle of tequila from his jacket.

You see your roommate’s eyes go wide. “Hell yeah come in! Close the door I don’t wanna share with the rest of the floor.” She says excitedly. “Come on girl just show him, it’s no biggie right?”

“Show me what?” He smirks.

“None of your - hey!” You protest as Jake yanks down your hood and pulls the collar wide.

A light blush tinges the tips of his ears as he takes in the marks across your skin. “Oh really, finally getting some for yourself huh?” He smirks, but there’s a hit of something else in his eyes.

“From Steven of all people!” Your roomie calls over her shoulder as she pours shots into assorted coffee mugs and hands them to you both. You do your best to kill her with a look.

Jake’s brow raises, his dark gaze boring into you as you clink your mug against his and tip back the burning liquor. “Alright spill, now.”

—————

Moon Knight Masterlist

Moon Knight Bingo

Taglist: @moonknight-events @melodygatesauthor @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @ominoose @romana-after-dark @lunar-ghoulie @flowercrownonapegion @howellatme @mooksmouse @ahookedheroespureheart @beezusvreeland @auntiegigi @moonkxit @faretheeoscar @softestqueeen @spidey-3 @steven-grants-world

#moon knight #steven grant #jake lockley #marc spector #moon knight bingo #college au

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scoopstomyahoy · 9 months

Text

dating someone who is obsessed with their platonic soulmate (and vice versa) must be so difficult sometimes.

like, imagine eddie, waking up early one morning in steve harrington's bed, still too hazy with sleep to open his eyes. steve harrington's bed. his beautiful, wonderful boyfriend, who is currently lying with his back to eddie, just inches out of reach.

eddie scoots over blindly, hands outstretched to find said beautiful wonderful boyfriend. when he finds him, he wraps his arms around his waist, spooning him close. apparently already awake, steve clasps one of his hands over eddie's, nesting back into him. as he cuddles into steve, eddie hums happily, brain not quite yet on. steve normally sleeps shirtless, but today eddie's hands find cloth blocking him from touching steve directly. a shirt. this won't do.

eddie slides one of his hands under the edge of steve's shirt, rumpling the cloth and dragging it up. he doesn't mean anything by it—it was too early—he just wants to be closer to his boyfriend, craving skin to skin contact. he might have gone back to sleep if steve hadn't tensed under his touch. he mumbles something to eddie, something eddie doesn't catch.

"hnnh... what...?"

steve repeats himself, a touch louder. "robin's here, eddie."

"mmokay."

eddie buries his face in between steve's shoulder blades, ready to let sleep overtake him for a few minutes more. he almost drifts away before—

"wait, what?"

"robin's here, eds."

eddie sits bolt upright. his eyes, still crusty with sleep, fly wide open to see steve harrington, his beautiful, wonderful boyfriend, turning back to look at him and smiling. and there, on the other side of his beautiful, wonderful boyfriend, is his boyfriend's best friend, hair splayed across the pillow, mouth wide open. some of her hair is actually caught in her mouth, sticking to her teeth. she's holding steve's other hand, the one that wasn't holding eddie's.

robin buckley is in their bed. eddie's eyes are comically wide—he probably looks like a cartoon, if steve's snort is anything to go by. he looks at his beautiful, wonderful, traitorous boyfriend, who allows robin to come over when eddie is asleep, when his hair is frizzy and messy and looks terrible and his breath probably smells bad. eddie opens his mouth to complain—loudly—and steve shushes him.

"don't you dare wake her up."

at this, eddie gestures widely, his arms moving in a way that he hopes conveys the message don't wake HER up, what about ME, steve, you didn't think to wake ME up when robin came over and apparently fell asleep next to us?? and is probably entirely incomprehensible. but steve seems to get it. he smirks.

"sorry," he whispers cheekily. "soulmate privileges."

eddie considers getting upset about this. then he weighs the merits of getting upset versus going back to sleep. he shrugs. lies down. snuggles up next to his beautiful wonderful boyfriend again. and goes back to sleep.

#steddie #steddie drabble #steddie ficlet #stobin #stranger things #mine #robin got bored in the middle of the night and came over. eddie sleeps like the dead and didn't notice #i think eddie would be 100% fine with this he's just dramatic

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 7 months

Text

Imagine Being Loved By Me

Pairing: Billy Washington (Trigger Point) x f!reader Warnings: Self deprecation, alcohol, mild angst, semi public smut, oral sex (m receiving) Word count: ~3.2k

Summary: Loose lips sink ships - a drunken night at the pub proves catastrophic for the secret fling she's been having with her best mate's brother. Based on this request.

Author's note: I don't have a tag list. Please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.

She lays cocooned on the sofa, enveloped in the soft warmth of fluffy throw blankets. The sounds of an episode of Eastenders playing on the TV fill the small space of her living room, yet her attention is focused solely on her phone, cradled in her palm as her thumb hovers over the screen.

“Come to the pub, not seen you for ages.” Reads the text message from her best mate, Lana.

It’s true, she has seen less of Lana over the last couple of months, the sole cause of that is due to Lana’s younger brother, Billy. She had never meant for it to happen.

After Billy had been pulled from his car in Cranstead Gardens, only for it to blow up mere moments later - a bomb planted by a right wing group called The Crusaders, attempting to frame Billy for an attack on anti-fascist protestors, Billy had been in a bad way. Already plagued by struggles of self worth and identity, he was now traumatised on top of it.

Supporting Billy through all of it had taken a toll on Lana. She’d taken time off work to care for her younger brother, making sure he went to his therapy sessions, sitting up with him when his night terrors got too much for him to bear, making sure he ate and took care of himself.

She’d seen how tired Lana was becoming, the dark circles under her eyes growing more prominent every time she saw her. Spending so much time looking after Billy, she was forgetting to look after herself. Stepping in, she’d lended her own support, wanting to ease the burden on her best friend.

Countless cups of tea were made by her, she’d cooked massive pasta bakes and pots of chilli, ensuring that both Lana and Billy had dinner every day. In her bid to support her friend, she’d unwittingly become part of her brother’s life too.

It was an afternoon a week after Lana had gone back to work, she’d continued to pop round to Billy’s each day as a favour to her, just to check in on him and make sure he wasn’t letting the flat get in too much of a state.

They had been standing side by side in the kitchen, her rolling a cigarette for both of them, while Billy made tea. Their fingers had brushed as he’d passed her mug with one hand, while taking his rollie from her with the other, and for the briefest of moments their eyes had locked.

She felt as though time had stood still as she stared into his big blue eyes, and suddenly tea and cigarettes were forgotten as their lips met in a frenzied rush of passion. He’d pushed her back against the kitchen side and she’d giggled against his lips as they’d sent empty beer cans and dirty cutlery clattering to the floor.

In response, he’d lifted her, her legs wrapping around his waist as he’d carried her to the bedroom. His breath had been heavy against her neck as he’d rutted hard into her against the rumpled bed sheets, while she’d stroked her fingers through his tousled sandy hair and whispered to him how good he was making her feel.

They’d laid there breathlessly afterwards and he’d made her swear not to tell Lana. It had made sense to her at the time, she’d thought it was a one off, and Lana would probably find it weird that her best friend and her younger brother had slept together.

But then it kept happening, and as time went on it felt more like a relationship than casual hooking up. Yet Billy continued to insist they kept it quiet, so she had, despite it seeming odd to her that they’d make a secret of something that clearly both made them happy.

And Billy did make her happy - most of the time. When things were good, they were really good; they’d spoon on his threadbare sofa, his laughter ruffling her hair as they watched reruns of The Simpsons. His large hand would always find its way up her top, wrapping around the dip in her waist, anchoring her to him.

When things were bad, they were awful. It would often happen after Billy’s weekly visits to the JobCentre to sign on, he’d come back petulant, closed off, in a place that was so far into his own mind that she couldn’t reach him. He’d lash out with angry words, filled with spite and vitriol if she tried to push him to open up, so she’d learned to retreat, to let him come to her.

Usually a day later, he’d reach back out and apologise, and things would be good again. Yet this time, a week had passed since she’d left Billy to his own devices and he hadn’t spoken to her at all.

She clicks away from Lana’s text, and onto her thread with her younger brother, faced with a stream of her own unanswered messages.

Fuck him.

If he doesn’t want to talk to her then perhaps her Friday night is better spent at the pub. She fires off a quick message to Lana, telling her she’ll be there in an hour before showering and getting herself ready.

The pavement is slick underfoot as she walks from her flat. It’s rained recently, and the smell of it hangs thick in the air, along with a brisk chill that causes her to pull her leather jacket tighter around herself, wishing she’d put on something warmer.

She pushes through the heavy barrier of the pub door, leaving behind the cold air, the smell of rain and the steady hum of traffic, for stifling warmth, the cloying scent of beer and raucous laughter.

Smiling when she spots Lana at a table in the corner, flanked by her mate and fellow EXPO, John, she heads over, taking a seat next to Lana and shrugs out of her jacket.

“Alright, stranger?” Lana looks warmly at her, eyes filled with familiar affection, “Mick’s just getting a round in.”

Her smile falters, stomach churning with disgust at the mention of Mick. He’s ex-military, a mutual friend of Joel and Lana. Since Joel had passed away in the Westhaven Estate bombing, he had latched onto Lana, and it made her skin crawl. She hated his arrogance and the way he always leered at her, he took cheap shots at Billy’s expense whenever he was around, despite repeatedly being told to stop.

“Great,” she says, the dullness of her tone not matching the enthusiasm of the word.

Before Lana can respond, Mick makes his way back over, four full pint glasses clutched tightly in his hands. He sets them down on the table, the motion sending lager foam dripping over the edges and onto the wood beneath.

“Lana mentioned you’d be dropping in,” Mick says, sliding a glass across to her, a trail of moisture spreading across the tabletop in its wake, “so I got you a pint.”

“Thanks,” she says with a tight smile, lifting the glass to her lips and taking a deep sip, focusing on how the bitter bubbles fizz against her tongue.

“Any time, gorgeous,” he fires back with a wink, and she grimaces, feeling as though she’ll bring the beer back up that she’s just swallowed.

She’s grateful when he takes a seat next to John and the two fall into conversation, leaving her and Lana to catch up. They talk about work and Lana’s excitement over Thom finally asking her to move in with him. It’s nice to be around her best friend again, how easily they slot back into place as though no time has passed. She feels guilty for not having made more time for Lana, being secretly kept preoccupied by Billy.

As if on cue, her phone buzzes and she pulls it out of her bag, seeing a text from him flash up on the screen. “were r u??”

She sighs, realising he’s likely turned up at her flat and seen she’s not home. It’s tempting to ignore him, considering he’s left her hanging for the last week, but she knows Billy, knows what he’s like, he’ll spiral if he doesn’t hear from her.

“At the pub.” She replies, then sends “With your sister.” as an afterthought, hoping it will deter him from turning up.

Putting her phone away, she continues drinking her pint and chatting with Lana, until Lana’s eyes move towards the door, brows raising in surprise.

“Here comes trouble,” she says, before taking a drink.

She turns, heart sinking as she sees Billy making his way unsteadily towards their table. His eyes are glazed, a pinkish hue is dusted across the bridge of his nose and cheekbones, the telltale signs he’s been drinking.

Mick looks up, raising his pint in greeting. “Billy! I’d offer you a drink, but I’ve not long gotten a round in. You can afford to get your own, right?”

“Mick, leave it,” Lana grits out, eyes narrowed.

“Sit down, Billy,” she says gently, pulling out the seat next to hers, “I’ll get you one.”

“I don’t need you!” He snaps, nostrils flaring and brow furrowing.

She flinches back, feeling her throat tighten, lowering her gaze to hide the hurt she feels.

Billy softens, shoulders sagging with shame, averting his own eyes. “Don’t need you to get me a drink,” he says quietly, “can get my own.”

She watches him weave through the crowded pub towards the bar, anxiety forming a pit within her stomach.

“Fuck’s sake,” she hears Lana mutter under her breath, turning to her. “I’m so sorry, had no idea he’d turn up.”

I did, she thinks to herself, but offers her friend a reassuring smile. “It’s alright, I don’t mind.”

Billy’s pint is already half drunk by the time he makes his way back to their table. He sets the glass heavily down on its surface, before slumping in the seat next to hers, fingers fidgeting with a beer mat.

“Still not working then, Billy?” Mick asks and she has to fight the urge to tell him to shut up, her grip tightening around the condensation coated outside of her pint glass.

“Starting an apprenticeship in two weeks, actually,” he says, shooting him a sideways glance, fingers continuing to spin the beer mat.

What? Why hadn’t he told her?

Her eyes widen in surprise, mouth opening to ask about it, closing it again upon realising it’s not her place, not publicly anyway. Thankfully, Lana is quick to step in.

“That’s brilliant news! Doing what?”

“Car mechanics,” Billy says. “Bloke at the JobCentre sorted me out with it, I start in two weeks.”

“Wow,” Lana says with a genuine smile, “I’m dead pleased for you, mate, know how much you enjoyed doing up your old Vauxhall.”

Billy nods, tapping the edge of the beer mat against the table, not looking directly at anyone. “Yeah, should hopefully have a job by the end of it.”

She takes a mouthful of lager, swirling it over her tongue, trying to distract herself from the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She’s pleased for Billy, it would be cruel not to be, but she can’t deny the hurt she feels that this isn’t something he felt was worth sharing with her.

“Let’s hope this sticks, eh, mate?” Mick says with a smirk.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Billy asks with a scowl.

Mick shrugs casually. “Seems like a good opportunity, would hate to see it go the same way as all your attempts to join the army.”

“Let’s keep it friendly, shall we?” John says uncomfortably, but is ignored by Mick.

“I’m just saying,” he continues, “hope another group of terrorists doesn’t come along and distract him. They teach you how to look for bombs while you’re fixing up the cars at this apprenticeship?”

“I said enough!” Lana shouts, slamming her pint glass down, eyes wide with fury.

The pub goes eerily silent, the Oasis song that’s playing on the jukebox and the scrape of Billy’s chair legs on the flagstone flooring are the only audible sounds as he stands abruptly, tossing the beer mat he’d been fiddling with onto the table.

“Going out for a fag,” he says sullenly, the chatter of surrounding tables gradually becoming louder as the shock of the sudden outburst wears of.

Billy walks out of the pub, head bowed, and she watches him go, her heart aching for him.

“Erm…think I’ll join him, actually,” she tells Lana, turning towards her, “could do with a smoke anyway. I’ll see if he’s alright.”

“Appreciate that, thank you,” Lana says, giving her hand a squeeze. “Think Mick and I need to have a little chat anyway,” her tone is suddenly stern, her gaze dark as she turns to face the man opposite her.

She nods, slipping her jacket back on and heads outside.

The shock of the cold night air hitting her skin causes her to draw in a sharp breath. It’s still damp outside and she worries that Billy might have gone home when she can’t immediately see him. It’s not until she walks along the road a short distance that she spots the glow of the end of a lit cigarette down an alleyway, the reddish hue dully illuminating Billy’s sharp features.

Wrapping her arms around herself, she walks towards him. “You should ignore Mick,” she says softly, standing in front of him, “he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

Billy exhales a plume of smoke, a hint of a sneer on his face as he draws his head back, staring at her through narrowed eyes. “Seems like he had the right of it to me. I’m a fuck up and almost got myself killed because of it.”

“You’re not, Billy,” she reassures him, “you were in a bad place. Those scumbags took advantage. Mick only takes the piss because he knows if he was in your position he wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

He sniffs, scowling slightly as he takes another drag, and she shifts from foot to foot, anxiously waiting for him to say something, anything.

She sighs when it becomes apparent he won’t, silently exhaling smoke, his brooding silence too much for her to bear. “Why didn’t you tell me about the apprenticeship?”

Billy swallows thickly, staring down at his trainers. “I was gonna, but then…then Becky text me.”

“Oh,” is all she’s able to get out, her skin growing heated despite how cold it is, as her heart lurches with painful jealousy.

She takes an involuntary step back, but Billy is quick to advance towards her, his free hand reaching for her. “No, not like that!” He says hastily. “I dunno what she wanted, actually. Messaged to ask how I was and I told her I was with you and not to contact me again.”

Her stomach flutters at his words.

Told her I was with you.

She can’t help the smile that tugs at the corners of her mouth. “And then what?”

“Then she said it wouldn’t last, she couldn’t imagine why someone like you would wanna be with someone like me.”

“And you believed her?”

He chucks his cigarette butt on the ground, crushing it underfoot. “I followed my therapist’s advice; cut ties with people who force you to question your self worth - blocked her number.”

Pride swells in her chest at his words and she reaches for his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“But it got me thinking,” he continues, “you deserve better than a few secret shags with your best mate’s waster brother.”

Her brow furrows, sadness making her feel heavy. “Is that why you’ve avoided me all week?”

Billy nods. “Yeah, just sorta wondered what the point of it all is, we have to keep it a secret anyway, and I’m just gonna fuck it up, same as I’ll do with this apprenticeship.”

She reaches up, cupping his face, fingers stroking over the scruff of his jawline, which is in desperate need of a shave. “Billy, it was your decision to keep us a secret. I’d tell everyone, given the choice. I’m not ashamed to be with you.”

His hands grasp her wrists, thumbs stroking the soft skin on the undersides. “Really?” He asks, his voice barely a whisper as he looks at her hopefully.

Leaning up, she kisses his lips, quick and chaste. “Really. Billy, you’re so good,” she leans up again, pressing her mouth to his more firmly, for longer, savouring the feeling of him kissing her back.

“So good to me,” she whispers, trailing her lips along his jaw and over his neck, smiling as she feels him shudder, his long fingers threading themselves into her hair.

“I’m so proud to be with you,” she tells him, sucking at his pulsepoint, earning a groan, which she feels the rumble of through his chest.

She reaches down, palming him through his jogging bottoms, feeling the rapid hardening of his cock through the cotton. “You’re gonna do so well at your apprenticeship, show everyone else just how good you are.”

His jaw goes slack, his grip on her hair tightening as he pulls her in for another kiss. It’s deep and heated, his breathing rapid as he tongue works against hers. He tastes of tobacco and Carling, yet to her there has never been anything more addictive.

Pulling away, his hands slip from her hair as she drops to her knees in front of him, not caring how the dampness of the concrete soaks into the material of her jeans.

“What are you doing?” Billy asks, lips parted in shock as he watches her tug at the waistband of his joggers and boxers, pulling them down just enough to free his erection. “Someone could see!”

“Then let them see, Billy,” she whispers huskily, eyes flitting up momentarily to meet the ocean blue wideness of his. “I told you I’m not ashamed to be with you.”

She licks the flushed pink tip of him, humming appreciatively at the sharp taste, grinning to herself as Billy hisses through his teeth, eyes screwed shut.

“Tastes so good,” she coos up at him, reveling in the sigh of the rapid rise and fall of his chest and the way he twitches against her palm.

Opening her mouth, she envelopes the length of him in its wet warmth, hollowing her cheeks as she bobs her head back and forth.

“Oh…fuck!” Billy all but chokes out, and she moans around him, speeding up her movements, pulling back each time the head of him knocks the back of her throat, stroking her hand up and down the base in tandem.

It is risky to do this so publicly, and yet it adds to the thrill; on her knees in a darkened alleyway for her man, showing him exactly what he’s worth, what he means to her.

Her core throbs with arousal, her movements becoming sloppy as Billy cups the back of her head, muscles tensing and his breathing becoming ragged. She can feel the tang of pre-cum against her tongue and knows he won’t last much longer.

She whines when he grips her hair, pulling her off of him and dragging his trousers back up.

“Why’d you do that? You were about to cum,” she huffs, rising to her feet.

“Exactly,” he says with a shrug, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, and guiding her out of the alley. “Wanna be inside you when I do that though, and I’d much rather be back at my girlfriend’s place to do that than down a fucking alley.”

She grins, wrapping an arm around his waist as they walk home.

Girlfriend.

She likes the sound of that.

#billy washington #billy washington x reader #billy washington x you #billy washington x y/n #billy washington smut #billy washington angst #billy washington imagine #billy washington trigger point #ewan mitchell #billy washington fan fiction #billy washington fanfiction #billy washington fan fic #billy washington fanfic #trigger point

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sleepershell · 6 months

Text

truth or dare

synopsis y/n convinces the Skittles to play truth or dare. It's all fun and games until Reggie doesn't like your answers. He storms out and, when you go to confront him, he's forced to admit how he feels.

Word count 1309

note loosely based on a prompt I saw @sufferingstarlight write from.

warnings a little sad, angst, mention of death eaters/the dark mark, some swearing

pairing Regulus Black x reader (no pronouns I think? Although I was writing it thinking f! Reader)

I couldn’t believe I’d convinced all these pureblood wizards to play a muggle game. But there they were, all my friends, sitting around me and playing a game of truth or dare. Evan charmed a Hufflepuff girl into giving us some weed for free, and we’d smoked it outside before running giggling back to the Slytherin common room. The seventh years all left at the first sight of us. They probably knew we were in the mood to start some trouble.

It was never hard to sneak Dora in anymore, although that probably had something to do with Regulus’ clout among our housemates for being a Black. Or maybe our housemates’ fear of him being a Death Eater. Either way, it worked out well for us. Dora was leaning against Reg, her long legs splayed in front of her. I was in a similar position, my top half leaning on Cas so she could play with my hair. It was the most euphoric feeling in the world to have her hands in my hair, especially when I was high. Evan was between Cas and Reg, while Barty sat between Dora’s and my feet. It was a good position, since I could give him a good kick whenever he said something stupid. With all that brain of his, one would expect him to say less dumb shit.

I was just recovering from a fit of laughter at Evan’s last confession when Cas asked “y/n, truth or dare?”

“Hm,” I pretended to think. Normally I would love a good dare but, knowing Cas, she’d try to give me something she knew I’d struggle with. No one quite knew how to push my buttons like my best friend. “Truth this time.” I cracked my knuckles for effect.

“Alrighttt.” I could feel the vibrations in her chest as she spoke. “If you could kiss any of the boys at school, who would it be?”

My stomach dropped. Of course, she still had found a way to torture me. Oh, that girl was going to get jinxed later. She’d never be able to sleep safely in our room again. There was no way I could tell the truth. It would be painfully embarrassing to admit who I really, really wanted to kiss in this group. I wouldn’t live it down. Barty was wagging his eyebrows at me, and Evan looked equally interested in my answer. I was always so careful to keep who I liked close to my chest, though I suspected everyone already knew. I had to think of something before the length of time got way too suspicious. I let a glance fly over at Reg. Like always, he just stared at me, eyes blank, a slight furrow in his brow. I should say Sirius. Then maybe he’d actually react to me for once. Then maybe I’d know how he felt. Saying Potter might hurt him even more… But I couldn’t do something like that to him.

“Uh, Remus, I guess.” I shrugged.

Barty wrinkled his nose at that. “That boring friend of Sirius’?”

“He’s not boring,” I protested, “he’s… nice.”

A scoff from Regulus.

I sat up straight, ready for a fight. “Is there something you want to say?”

“Nope.” Cocky asshole.

“Fine.” I crossed my arms. “Reggie: truth or dare?”

“Truth.” His dark eyes were still blank but I could see tension in his lips.

“Who in school would you kiss?”

He shook his head with a small laugh. “This muggle game is ridiculous.”

All at once he was standing and stalking out of the common room with the haughty grace typical of all the Blacks. Pandora looked shocked when he disappeared from beside her and nearly fell over. Other than she and I, everyone gave a collective shrug. It wasn’t out of character for Reg to leave so abruptly, to get rumpled over nothing. But this time I hopped up from my spot as well. He couldn’t just leave like that.

“Where are you going?” Evan asked.

“I’m going to find that fucker.” I called back over my shoulder.

“Oh boy.” I could hear them all break out into laughter as I slammed the door behind me.

Regulus wasn’t hard to find. When I didn’t see him in the dungeons I knew where else to look. It was late in an October evening, and I had to wrap my arms around myself as I followed the edge of the Black Lake. There was no moon above, the only reflections cast on the water from the monolith of a castle behind me. So many days we’d spent out on the bank of the lake, on the side closest to the Forbidden Forest. There was nowhere else he’d go.

And there was Reg, pacing back and forth, his hands held out in front of him grasping the cold air. Strong hands. Piano hands. Writing hands. Hands I’d almost reached out for so, so many times. He appeared suspended in an argument with nothing.

I held my tongue until I was near, but had to speak when my presence wasn’t acknowledged. That close, I could finallyI see emotion on his face. Twisted up and white as a sheet.

“Reg, tell me what’s going on.” My voice was soft, barely more than a rasp.

“Nothing.” Still not a glance at me, though he’d stopped pacing. His chest was heaving as if he’d been yelling. “Go back inside, y/n.”

He loved to give orders. As if anyone had any reason to obey him.

“I’m not going anywhere.” The words flew out of me with a bite, and he looked up as if he’d been slapped. Maybe my tone was too close to his dreadful mother’s for comfort. But I couldn’t worry about that. We’d been playing pretend for too long. “Do you have a problem with Remus or do you have a problem with me?”

He scoffed again, his eyes up to the moonless sky. “You have no idea what I’ve got going on.” He always had to play superior. Always had to play prince.

“Salazar, Regulus, I’m not a bloody idiot! Do you think that little of me?”

He glared down at me, his eyes glistening. I took a step closer. The gap between us was so small I could feel his breath.

“Either you’re jealous and you want me or you don’t and you’re the blood purity asshole Black family heir you want everyone to think you are. Just say which.”

“Stop.” He shook his head at me.

“I’m already in. You can’t scare me away.”

“Please stop.” Head still shaking.

“I am in love with you, Regulus. I won’t take it back because it’s true and you can’t ignore it anymore.” I could see the water welling in his lower lids. It was in mine, too.

“We can’t,” he breathed.

My hand, out of reflex more than anything else, lifted to his chin. I brushed my thumb along his bottom lip. He didn’t shy away from my touch like he had so many times before.

“Please walk away.” There was so much desperation in those eyes. “Please.”

“Why?”

He grasped his sleeve and wrenched it up. I didn’t have to look; I already knew.

“If I have to take the mark myself, I will. Anything. Anything.”

“Fuck,” he sobbed, the tears finally falling. He let himself fall forward with them, our foreheads bumping against one another.

“You love me.” I didn’t ask, but it was a question. A desperate question I’d asked myself about him a million times before. Does Regulus Black love me like I love him?

A nod that shook my own head with it. His red-rimmed eyes bore into me. “I love you.”

I moved my hands to cup his face on either side. “You never told me your answer.”

And then I felt the softness of his lips on mine.

#regulus black #regulus arcturus black #oneshot #fanfic #fanfiction #marauders #harry potter #regulus black x reader #regulus x reader #angst #so much angst #self insert #jealousy #slytherin #love #💤🦪#🐍#friends to lovers #star crossed lovers

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petals2fish · 2 months

Text

Genius

Summary:

After Lily breaks her iPhone, she finds herself at the Genius Bar on Valentines Day, and an old flame is there to help her in all things technology and romance.

read on A03

Marlene McKitten: babes you're missing out on blackberry margs!!

Lily Evans: I’m sorry! It was the only time I could schedule a time for my phone to get fixed!

Marlene McKitten: you just hate me, its okay, you can say it

Lily Evans: you’re a drama queen, Marlene McKinnon

Marlene McKitten: you love me anyways…find me a hot date at the apple store so I can get discounts!!

Lily Evans: if I find a hot guy he’s mine for the night

Marlene McKitten: further proof that you hate me

Lily Evans: I’m here. … Pray this doesn’t take five hours and I can come meet you for drinks.

Marlene McKitten: how hard will it be to replace a screen? … I bet I could do it myself with youtube and a little superglue

Lily did not reply back to her friend, she didn’t have the heart to tell Marlene that superglue and youtube weren’t the answer for everything. Even if superglue had proven effective at keeping Lily’s favorite mug together after it broke in the dishwasher.

Lily just couldn’t believe she was spending her free time at the Apple Store because she'd somehow cracked her phone screen. In all her years of owning a phone, of course it would be the most expensive phone she’d ever had that broke. Even her flimsy flip phone had been more sturdy than her iphone.

“Hi, are you here for an appointment?” A scrawny kid about her age asked, holding the iPad too close to his face as he approached her near the front doors.

Lily nodded quickly. “Yeah, Lily Evans, for a screen repair.”

“Gotcha.” The kid's nametag read ‘Peter,’ and he barely looked up at her as he typed away on his screen. “I checked you in; just go wait at the Genius Bar.”

“Thanks.”

Lily maneuvered around the cramped store, sighing all the while as she made her way to the Genius Bar. It was rather depressing to be alone on Valentine's Day, but it was almost extra disappointing that she’d had to skip lunch with her girlfriends to come here. Lily couldn’t believe she was missing out on the tacos at Casa Grande, a tradition that went all the way back to Uni. She nervously picked at the crack on her screen, most annoyed that she’d somehow forgotten to add the screen protector when she got her new case two months ago. Another sigh escaped her lips before she finally took a look at her surroundings.

There were three boys at the counter, each of them so different from the other. The first, on Lily’s left, was a bloke with a leather jacket, emitting a touch of emo metal head from his persona. The one on the right definitely looked like he belonged at the Genius Bar in the Apple Store, thanks to his perfectly pressed sweater vest and nicely combed hair. The man leaning against the table opposite Lily, typing into his iPad, was a sporty-looking bloke wearing slacks with a rumpled button-down shirt.

She thought to herself, Actually, no, that sporty bloke looks really familiar… Oh.

It hit her like a freight train.

She couldn’t remember his name for the life of her, but he’d somehow gotten hotter in the year since they graduated from college. It’d been almost that much time since they’d danced at a party, stumbled up the stairs to his bedroom, and he’d fucked her on his bed. Not even a quick go. No, she had woken up in his bed to find his arms around her, her clothes all over the room, and her phone dead from going all night without a charger.

He’d been such a gentleman when he woke up. He had practically stumbled over his words when he realized she was there, in his bed, naked with him. They had both been drunk, so even he admitted it had probably been a bad idea. They’d parted ways an hour later, Lily promising that she’d be okay to walk back to her dorm, and he had let her go so she assumed he really hadn’t wanted anything more than a once go in the sheets.

More than once, she'd thought about this bloke, wondering what happened to him.

His black hair was in a mess of waves around his head, and he didn't look up from his iPad as she stared in shock. She didn’t know what she’d say to him if they did make eye contact. The last thing she’d said to him was ‘thanks for the sex’ which somehow grew more and more embarrassing the longer she sat here and recalled it. She kept picturing his naked body in that bed in the morning. What would she say if he looked up right now and she was there remembering the contours of his body?

Hi, I almost didn’t recognize you with your clothes on.

She’d save that gem for later.

Probably never.

Lily felt disappointed as he walked away without looking up, disappearing through a door that likely led to the back. Her heart slowed in her chest, just slightly, but she felt like her throat was drier than the desert. She cleared it twice, earning a look from the guy in the sweater-vest, but he just went back to his task at hand.

Since the other two men at the Genius Bar were preoccupied, she took that to mean she was going to have to wait for help. She checked her Tumblr, finding nothing of consequence, just some idiots in her ask box telling her to eat dirt and choke on it. A usual occurrence on her blog thanks to internet trolls with nothing better to do than hate strong women like Taylor Swift and Captain Marvel. Lily was fully convinced people just liked to find something to complain about. She tried really hard not to complain or take anything a bunch of internet ghosts said to heart. She scrolled through her favorite Taylor Swift blog and saw there had been a new song mashup released. She wished she had brought her headphones so she could at least listen to the music while she waited.

London Boy crossed with This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things would be absolutely disastrous and she was here for it. She reblogged it for later, then exited out of the app, settling for people watching instead.

Around her, couples were looking over new computers, AirPods, and various other electronics. All the girls wore really pretty dresses, and all the partners kept one firm arm around each other's waists. Lily’s dress was pretty too, and she played with the edges of the corset cut as she stared at the door through which the fit bloke had disappeared.

Had he spotted her and run? Did he remember her? Did he forget her? She wasn’t sure what would hurt her more, if he walked away because he saw her and remembered her, or if he walked away because he forgot about her.

Lily wasn’t a bragger, but she knew for a fact he had fun with her a year ago. She remembered enough of that night to know that he’d been really, really enjoying it. Not many men would get between her legs for her, and very few actually made her scream. No, he’d been one of two, and he’d been the best of all.

Lily crossed her legs, trying to ignore the heat gathering on her face (and in other places) as she recounted that night. Sadly, her body wasn’t listening to her imploring thoughts. She felt like a damn animal in heat, the way her entire body was strung up, waiting for his reappearance.

Beside her, the emo guy helping the old Lady change her voicemail sent her a sidelong glance randomly, and Lily felt a blush raise on her cheeks when his eyes grazed up and down her body as if he were checking her out. She didn’t drop his gaze, and instead offered him a smile. His gray eyes snapped back to the old lady and spoke to her in a smooth tone that didn’t seem the least bit flustered.

She looked down at her candy-colored nails, the pink already chipping from scrubbing her hands too much at work. The phone on the table in front of her buzzed with a text from her girls' chat. Marlene sent a photo of a plate of tacos in the shape of a heart. Lily smiled and opened her phone, hearting the photo. As she did so, the grandmother finished her session and walked away, leaving the emo kid free. Lily looked up from her phone quickly, expecting him to turn to her, but instead, he had his back turned to her as he talked into his headset.

“No, I won’t stall for you—Prongs! Don’t argue with me.” He sounded stressed, as if whoever was on the other end was ruining his life. “Then get out here, you idiot.”

Whoever was on the other end was clearly addressing the whole store through that headset, as Lily witnessed the sweater vest-wearing, scrawny boy, and the long-haired brunette nearby all turning to send looks in Emo’s direction with raised brows. Lily couldn’t help but feel as if they were all looking at her too, despite her not being privy to the conversation happening.

“Hi,” someone touched Lily’s shoulder from behind, making her turn in surprise.

A baby-faced woman with bubblegum-pink hair smiled kindly. “Have you been checked in?”

“Oh,” Lily blinked owlishly, feeling stupid for thinking everyone was looking at her. “Uhm, yes, Lily Evans? Screen repair?”

“Our screen repair guy is stuck on the phone with a customer in the back,” she said cheerily, “but he should be out soon.”

“Oh, there’s a guy?” Lily said in surprise. “I thought screen replacements were kinda a universal genius bar thing.”

“Oh, we can all do it,” The girl’s name tag told Lily her name was Tonks, “but someone called dibs already.”

“Dibs?” Lily didn’t miss that Emo kid was cackling as he typed something into his iPad.

“Did I say dibs?” Tonks put a finger on her lips. “I meant he was assigned to you by the boss.”

“Who’s the boss?”

“He is.”

Suddenly, the door behind them slammed open, and a body stumbled out quite dramatically. Lily perked up at the sight of the familiar form. Sporty boy was back! His black hair was even more wild around his head, as if he’d been running his fingers through it non-stop since he’d disappeared. His glasses were skewed too, but it only made him so much more attractive, to see how flustered he was.

Tonks peered around Lily’s shoulder, her pink hair falling into her eyes. “Smooth entrance, Potter.”

“Thanks for holding down the fort, Nymphadora,” Potter said. “I can take her from here.”

Lily’s eyes traced his tall form, realizing it had been a long time since she’d been able to admire it. When her gaze returned to his face, her eyes met brown orbs that looked delighted to know she’d been openly checking him out. Lily’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. She brushed nervously at her red curls, biting her lip as James waltzed over to her at the bar, leaning against it so he was only a foot or so away from her.

“Hi,” his voice was smooth, like an ASMR streamer. “I’m James Potter.”

“Hi,” she almost choked on her own spit. “Hi.”

James’ fingers trailed along the edge of the bar, casual yet deliberate, as he said, “I heard you rang for a genius?”

Lily’s mouth quivered when she heard Tonks sigh loudly. The emo guy slammed his palm against his head, as if James had embarrassed them all. Sweater vest physically gagged. James just kept smiling at her though, as if he could tell she was attracted to him regardless of his cheesy pickup lines. And it was true, she was.

“I heard you are the only one in this store who can help me,” Lily flirted, watching his eyes light up at the challenge. “I had no idea you were so important.”

“Me either, to be honest.” He placed his chin on his hand, supported by his elbow against the bar. “What was your name again?”

Lily tucked her hair behind her ear. “Lily Evans? We met about a year ago at a party.”

His eyes seemed to sparkle as he replied smoothly, “Oh, I remember how we met, it was just your name that escaped me last year.”

The blush was uncontrollable now as she reached out a hand for him to shake. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“You have no idea how nice it is to see you again.” James’ grin grew wider. “And on Valentine's Day, no less.”

"I know how to make an entrance." She managed weakly.

James' eyes were molten gold mixed with green flecks, "you sure do, especially in that dress."

“Get a room,” the guy in the sweater vest muttered.

“How about yours, Remus?” James shot back, a bite in his tone.

Remus pretended to be interested in his customer's macbook in response. When Lily looked back at James, she felt a punch to the gut as she saw nothing but pure lust in his eyes. She could practically pinpoint where his mind had dropped, thanks to his eyes staring at her breasts, which were practically popping out of the corset cut top of her dress.

“Like what you see?” She asked boldly.

"Yes." He cleared his throat, and her eyes dropped to his mouth when he licked his lip and then curled the edges up to smile confidently.

Hazel eyes.

His eyes were hazel, and she’d forgotten that, so now all her memories were being replayed with coy hazel eyes that undressed her without even trying. He wasn't even trying to hide it, especially not right now.

“Well, what can I help you with today?” James asked, breaking her concentration on his eyes.

Dinner. She thought desperately. A quick go in the back of the storage room. Instead she offered, “I think I cracked my phone screen.”

James looked down at the phone in question. Lily picked it up, popping off the blue protective case in one fluid motion, before handing it to him. She fiddled with the case as he turned the phone over in his hands once.

“And you’re sure it’s not just the screen protector?”

Lily shook her head no, “I tried to pull it off, twice, but couldn't get it, so I’m pretty sure I forgot to put the protection screen thing on when I got my new case.”

“Oh Lily,” James clucked his tongue, “always use protection.”

Oh, that was the wrong thing to say.

Her brain immediately fluttered into the pit of her stomach with ideas of all the things they could do with protection. God, she hadn’t been so turned on since the last time he’d gotten her into bed with him…only this time it was daylight and she hadn’t had a single thing to drink.

Pure thoughts, Lily Evans. She thought. He’s just a guy. A hot, cool, incredibly charming guy. Fuck it, I’m screwed.

James casually picked at her phone screen, seemingly ignoring the desire flickering in her eyes as he remarked, “The glass shouldn’t stick up like that; I think it’s just a screen protector.”

“I really don’t think–”

Watching in mortification, Lily winced as he used his thumbnail to pry at the glass. Suddenly, a sound of unsticking reached her ears as he removed a screen case from her phone's actual glass. Redness flooded her face for an entirely different reason. She’d been a total, utter, helpless idiot for bringing her phone here.

It hadn’t been broken at all.

“Oh my god,” she whispered, “Oh, no, no, no, no!! I am such an idiot.”

“No!” He quickly reassured her, “You’re not an idiot!”

Lily felt herself spiraling with embarrassment, realizing she just hadn’t pulled hard enough to separate the sticky tape from the glass. “I swear—I tried so hard—I thought it was the screen.”

His thumb brushed the side of her wrist in comfort, but instead of soothing her, it sent a wave of shame coursing through her stomach. “It’s an honest mistake; it was securely fastened.”

“Yeah,” she squeaked, noticing he had leaned closer over the counter, now mere inches from her face.

“Seriously,” he seemed so amused, and that only humiliated her further, “it’s fine, I won't even charge you.”

She didn’t know if she’d ever felt more stupid, and in front of the hottest guy she knew, too. “I’m really sorry for wasting your time.” He searched her face as if seeking something within it. Lily withdrew her hand from his shyly and then grabbed her phone. “I’ll just go, thank you, um, bye.”

Trying to escape the awkward situation, she hurried out, acutely aware of the stares from those around them who had witnessed the embarrassing exchange. She slipped her unprotected phone under the strap of her dress and brushed her hair behind her ears as she rushed to her car in the parking lot.

“Dumb, stupid, idiot.” she muttered over and over to herself, repeating the whole scene in her head. “How did you graduate college with a science degree, but you can’t even pull a fucking phone condom off.”

She reached her car in record time, the lingering sense of humiliation mingling with a cocktail of other emotions churning in her gut. Her plan now was simple: she would rendezvous with her friends at the taco place and immerse herself in a flight of margaritas. Maybe if she got intoxicated enough, she could erase this entire fiasco from her memory. As she finished flinging her bag onto the console of the passenger seat, she heard footsteps approaching from behind.

Turning abruptly, she was startled to find James from the Genius Bar standing there, a friendly smile gracing his features. “Hey, Lily.”

“Hi,” she managed, her voice high-pitched from her embarrassment.

HIs eyes dropped to the phone, precariously held between her pale skin and tiny spaghetti thick dress strap. “Why do girls stuff everything right there?”

Lily looked down at her phone and then back up to him, feigning tucking her hands into the folds of her dress skirt, “most girls clothes don’t have pockets–so we improvise.”

“Interesting.” He then asked promptly, “Did you know that I worked here?”

“No,” she swore, as the wind made her skirts gather around her legs, “I swear, I had no idea.”

A light flickered in his eyes, “that’s a shame.”

“Why a shame?”

“I was hoping you made up that entire thing about the glass cracking just to talk to me.” He grinned. “But you genuinely thought it was broken, didn’t you?”

“You were hoping I was lying?” Lily blinked owlishly at him, “really?”

He lifted a lunchbox in his hand, smiling awkwardly. “I only have an hour for lunch; why don’t we catch up, and we can talk about what I was hoping for.”

“What?” Lily asked, not comprehending anything because her hormones were cheering excitedly.

“Sorry,” he tucked the lunchbox behind his back again, “did you not want to eat with me? I think I may have gotten mixed signals from you back in the store…”

“Eat with you?” she repeated. “ With you?”

“I know it’s been a while,” he was rambling, “I know we aren’t even like–friends–but you showed up and I–I nearly had a heart attack seeing you again. A heart attack in the good way–not a bad way. You are definitely good. All good. So good.”

Lily still had one hand on her car door, her chest rising and falling as she struggled to find the words. “I–I’m an idiot who can’t tell the difference between a screen cover and a phone screen…and you want to have lunch with me?”

James shrugged, “despite working at the genius bar–” Lily offered him a snort of amusement, “--I prefer idiots, don’t you?”

“You're not an idiot,” Lily said, motioning to all of him, “you’re–you’re that .”

“Eloquent,” his smile was so wide, his eyes crinkled at the edges. “But I’m 100% just as much an idiot as you.”

“How so?”

“I was an idiot for ever letting you go without a number to text you at.”

She felt her stomach erupt with pleasant butterflies. “What?”

James looked down at her body, then back up at her eyes with a coy wink. “Truthfully, I've been wondering where you disappeared to for a year now and would really like to catch up. I’d also really love your number, for your working phone, just in case you ever need a genius to fix it again. Is that okay?”

Lily felt like she might be dreaming. She pinched her arm. It hurt. Thank god. “This isn’t a joke, right?”

“No,” James walked forward, almost flush with her person now. “I do love a good joke, though.”

“Really?” He was so close, she could count the tiny freckles dotting his tan nose.

James' hand brushed her arm, sending shivers racing up it. “What’s the best book to read while eating breakfast?”

Lily felt a smile replacing her confused expression as she leaned up on her tiptoes, allowing his free hand to cup her chin. “What book?”

“Much Ado About Muffin.”

"You're right, you are an idiot." She rolled her eyes, but her tone was flirtatious, "a really, really cute idiot."

"They'll hire just about anyone to work the Genius Bar these days."

Lily didn’t wait anymore; she grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him down, letting her lips muffle his laughter.

She could still feel his smile through the kiss though, even when he opened his mouth to taste her with an eager fever she had forgotten about. She kissed him back harder, especially when she heard his lunch bag fall to the ground near their feet, and both his hands grabbed hold of her long hair to keep her firmly attached. He tasted like mint gum, like he'd just been chewing it before coming to find her. Like he'd planned for this exact scenario to happen.

She almost swooned at the thought.

Finally, what felt like only a second later, he broke off the kiss. When her eyes opened, she saw nothing but him, and that only made her smile grow wider. His hands remained in her hair, but he tugged them forward to cup her cheeks, bringing the red strands with him.

“So,” he said somewhat breathlessly, “lunch date?”

"What'd you have in mind?"

"Calling out of work, taking you home, and ordering pizza for a long movie we won't watch."

Lily stepped forward, about to kiss him again for suggesting it, but then she felt her chunky heel step on something, and a resounding crack filled the air. Lily thought it might be the lunch bag he’d dropped, and for just a second she hoped, but whatever was under her foot was smaller. She looked down, face white, and all she saw were broken bits of glass under her heel. Her heart plummeted from its high as she stared down at her broken phone.

“I broke my phone,” she realized, lifting her foot to show a screen in tiny bits and pieces. “Oh my god, I really broke it this time.”

James untangled himself from her and leaned down, picking it up carefully, and they watched as it disintegrated into multiple pieces in his hand. His eyes lifted from the phone to her. She stared back at him. Lily fell against her car, pressing her hands into her hair as she processed her disbelief. James' mouth was partially open, like she'd just stunned him to silence.

“I can’t believe this!” she half laugh, half cried, while wiping her eyes. "I can't fucking believe this!"

Then, James doubled over with laughter, weeping from the irony of it all. Lily crossed one leg over the other as she laughed too, her head rolling back against her car. Passerby in the parking lot shared attempts like they were lunatics for laughing so hard. It only made them laugh harder.

"What am I going to do?" Lily cried, her side in stitches. "Oh god, I haven't even paid that phone off yet!"

"I can't believe you broke it!" James wiped the tears from his eyes, "oh my god, your luck!"

"Oh fuck," Lily pressed a hand to her forehead, "I don't know why I'm laughing, this is actually so bad, I need my phone for work."

James walked forward to plant a firm kiss on her mouth before reminding her, “Don’t worry, you know a genius who can fix it.”

~~~

+44 7123 456789: Lily??? Are you Alive??? Your bedroom doors been shut since yesterday?? have you even been home???

Lily Evans: holy shit I am so sorry, who is this? I have a new phone and forgot to switch my contacts over from the cloud

+44 7123 456789: ....Marlene....HOW BROKEN WAS YOUR PHONE??? It was a scratch the last time I saw it??

Lily Evans: funny story...

Marlene McKitten: where are you?!

Lily Evans: do you remember that one time I got super drunk at a party and woke up in a hot guys bed?

Marlene McKitten: ya...why?

Lily Evans: I'm currently in his bed right now

Marlene McKitten: ??? get home right now or so help me god I'm tracking your phone and coming to you

Lily Evans: save yourself a drive and meet us at the Genius Bar, he's taking me over there to fix my old computer I thought was broken.

Marlene McKitten: ?????????????

#jily #lily evans #james potter #jily fanfiction #jily fic #sleepover saturday #JPLE

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bgthree · 3 months

Text

Imagine Tav breaking things off with Astarion post-game because they’re worried he’s just with them because it’s what he thinks he wants.

For 200 years Astarion hasn’t had the freedom to make his own choices, and he gained that freedom while he was already involved with Tav. Tav is worried they’re preventing him from being able to explore and find out who he is, and what he wants.

Tav wants him to have the space to figure that out, without a shadow of a doubt and without any influence on their part. If Astarion wants a future involving a romantic relationship with Tav, wonderful. That’s what Tav wants too. But if that’s ultimately not what Astarion realizes he wants, true Tav would be heartbroken, but above all else Tav just wants him to happy.

Tav encourages Astarion to take some time to experience life (or un-life) free from Cazador’s control without any expectations from anyone. If he comes back, Tav will most assuredly be waiting with open arms.

Of course, Astarion hates the suggestion initially, feeling as though he’s being cast aside or abandoned. He accuses Tav of trying to get rid of him, of wanting to get rid of him so they can be with one of the other party members instead. Gods knew he hadn’t been the only one to take an interest in Tav. Probably Wyll, or Gale, he sneers.

He’s terrified, for more than a few reasons. He’s grown attached to Tav, come to trust them. He cares about them, doesn’t think he has the capacity to feel the way he feels about anyone else. He’s never faced such uncertainty about the future before and it unsettles him, as if he’s been thrown into a deep body of water.

He’s angry when he leaves, doesn’t tell Tav or any of the others where he’s going.

Tav tries to focus on other things: rebuilding the city, settling back into a life that doesn’t involve the tadpole or the constant threat of being turned into a mind flayer.

It’s late, and nearly a year to the day when someone knocks on the door to Tav’s lodgings. Tav half expects it to be Karlach, who’d mentioned coming for a visit soon, though the hour is a curious one for entertaining friends.

When Tav answers the door Astarion still braces himself for there to be someone else there, rumpled from sleep or annoyed at the interruption. One of their companions, perhaps, or someone unknown to him. That would be worse, he thinks. Because it would mean Tav had given up on him coming back, if Tav had ever even wanted him to.

But the look on Tav’s face when they see him, and the happy tears in Tav’s eyes are all he needs. Tav lets him in, almost convinced they’ve fallen asleep at their desk and the Astarion suddenly standing in the middle of their lodgings is merely a dream. It wouldn’t be the first time.

He stalks towards them though, and Tav’s pulse races as he suddenly invades their space, backing them up against the opposite wall.

“Don’t ever ask me to do that again,” and it almost sounds angry, like a command. But Tav sees the hurt there, the same longing they see every time they look in a mirror. Astarion isn’t angry, he’s pleading with them.

“Not if you want me here,” he whispers.

“I do,” Tav nods. Nothing has changed. “I love you.”

And the sound he makes before he kisses them makes Tav realize they could never send him away again, even if they wanted to.

It’s a couple days later when Karlach shows up, and Astarion answers the door. She’s surprised to see him, so much that she nearly misses the disheveled appearance and unruly hair.

“Go away,” he smiles, and slams the door in her face.

Karlach laughs, and is so happy for them that she doesn’t even mind having to come back another time.

#baldurs gate three #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #tav #astarion acunin #astarion x tav #baldurs gate 3 astarion #baldurs gate three astarion #tav x astarion

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lewmagoo · 2 years

Text

i will wait right here | b. bradshaw

description: in which four pilots find themselves in a hospital waiting room (requested)

warnings: angst, brief allusion to sex (no smut), illness (there’s a brief scene with vomiting lol), mentions of death, hurt/comfort

pairing/characters: bradley “rooster” bradshaw x nondescript f!reader, natasha “phoenix” trace, robert “bob” floyd, jake “hangman” seresin

notes: this is pretty self indulgent. also i might be projecting a bit here. y’know, with the constant need to be independent and put others needs before my own, even if it kills me. just eldest daughter things 🤪

Rooster had always said she was far too determined to be independent.

It came from her deep, incessant need to prove to others, and herself, that she could take care of herself, and didn’t need anyone to fuss over her.

“I’m fine,” she’d insist, “you don’t have to worry about me.”

Except, Bradley did worry about her. All the time, in fact. The fact that he was a mother hen was a running joke in their group of friends. But he was especially a mother hen toward her. When she assured everyone that she was okay, he could see right through it. He knew her well enough to know when she was not okay. And he was pretty good about helping her when she needed it.

But in turn, she was good at evading his help. She didn’t want to be a burden. Although Bradley insisted that she wasn’t, there was part of her that always doubted that. She’d spent her entire life proving she didn’t need anyone to lean on.

But one day, that stubborn determination of hers would cost her.

It had all started with a migraine.

She woke up to the splitting headache, and groaned in protest at the sunlight streaming in through the blinds. Bradley was beside her, one brawny arm slung over her waist. He felt her tense, and he shifted, lifting his head from the pillows.

If she hadn’t been in so much pain she would have marveled in adoration at his sleep rumpled hair and the imprint of the sheets creased on his cheek.

“Mm, mornin’, baby. You alright?”

“Fine,” she mumbled. “Just have a headache.”

Bradley buried his face against her shoulder, pressing a kiss there. His mustache prickled at her skin. “‘s probably about time to get up, hm?”

“Probably.” She closed her eyes, trying to hide from the light.

Finally, the man beside her sat upright, stretching out his torso, followed by a few pops of readjusting joints. “I’ll get the coffee going. Maybe it’ll help your headache.” He left another kiss, this time to her temple, before he slipped away, leaving her in the silence of her bedroom.

Again, if her head wasn’t threatening to explode on her, she might have admired the view of his peachy ass as he bent to tug on his boxers. Instead, her eyes remained half closed, and all she saw was his retreating shadow as he made his way out to the kitchen.

With a deep sigh, she attempted to sit up, but as she did so, an unbearable rush of pain flooded her head. She let out a hiss, reaching up to gently hold her head in her hands, lessening the throb as she slowly sat up the rest of the way.

“Fuck, I don’t remember drinking that much last night.” In fact, she’d hardly been drunk at all. She and Rooster had shared a beer the night before, and had promptly after fallen into the sheets together. Her head certainly hadn’t been hurting then. All she remembered was all-encompassing pleasure.

So sometime between their evening escapades and now, a migraine had sunk its sharp claws into her skull, and wouldn’t let go.

She fumbled to open her nightstand drawer, retrieving a bottle of headache medication she kept there. Using the glass of water that was a permanent fixture on the nightstand, she swigged the pills back and hoped for the best.

After taking a moment to physically prepare herself to get up for the day, her feet hit the floor. Mechanically, she pulled on the nearest article of clothing, which happened to be Bradley’s well-worn Navy t-shirt.

Then she made her way out to the kitchen. The light was brighter in there, and she squinted in discomfort. As she took a seat at the table, a mug full of fresh coffee was placed in front of her. She didn’t have to question how it was made. Bradley knew exactly how she liked it.

“I’ll be pretty busy these next few days,” he mused as she took a sip of the coffee. “Got those intense training exercises I told you about. I probably won’t be able to come home as often, at least not until the weekend.”

“Hope it goes well,” she managed, letting her eyes fall shut.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” His husky voice brought her back to the present, and when she opened her eyes, she found his warm ones staring back at her, flooded with concern.

Despite herself, she gave him a small smile. “Yeah, don’t worry about me.”

“I always do,” came his response. He kissed the top of her head.

He soon excused himself to get ready for the day, while she sat at the table and gently massaged her temples. She was thankful she didn’t have Bradley’s job, which required him to be at work bright and early. Instead, she worked at the Hard Deck, and her shift didn’t start until later that afternoon. She hoped her headache would settle down by that point.

By the time she rose from the table to deposit her empty coffee cup into the sink, Bradley was already dressed and ready to head out the door. He kissed her cheek as he walked by, stopping at the entryway to lace up his boots.

“Bye, baby. I’ll call you later if I have time. Love, love.”

Then he was gone before she could register what had taken place. She sighed into the quietness of her home. Normally, she would’ve been a more active participant in bidding him farewell. Especially if she wasn’t going to see him for a few days. But she simply didn’t have the wherewithal to do so.

Instead of fretting over her less than enthusiastic goodbye, she headed right back to bed, hoping she would wake up and find her headache gone.

She did wake up many hours later. However, her headache was still raging behind her eyes, like churning storm clouds. Not to mention, the bedroom was considerably darker than it had been when she went to sleep.

“Oh, shit,” she cursed. She sat up quickly, regretting it immediately when her head began to pound and spots appeared in front of her eyes. She took a moment to pull herself together before she reached for her phone. To her horror, she found that it was 2100 hours. She’d slept until 9 pm. That meant that she was four hours late to her shift at the Hard Deck.

Her phone screen displayed a few missed calls from Penny, and a few from another bartender, Samantha. She let out a frustrated moan, lowering her head to her hands. She couldn’t believe that she’d managed to sleep late enough to miss a whole shift of work.

She felt awful, and she was quick to type an apology to Penny.

Hey Pen. I am sooooo sorry I stood you up like that. I’m not feeling well and I laid down for a bit, but ended up sleeping way too late. I woke up just a few minutes ago. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.

She hit send and hoped for the best. Penny was understanding, so she wasn’t worried about the possibility of losing her job. But she still felt terrible about it, and vowed to make things right.

However, the excruciating pain still piercing through her skull soon took precedence over her guilt, and she whimpered, lowering herself back down against the bed.

She’d had headaches and migraines before, but they were few and far between, and none of them had ever been as bad as this. It was a constant, thrumming ache that distracted her from all coherent thought.

She was surprised when tears sprang to her eyes. It pushed her to reach back into her nightstand and take another dose of pills. She hoped and prayed that this time, they would work, and she’d be able to go about her normal, day to day life soon.

As she curled back under the covers and placed a pillow over her head, she found herself wishing that Bradley was there to hold her and possibly help soothe the pain. She imagined his big, warm hands gently cradling her head, keeping the pounding at bay.

She was tempted to call him, but she wasn’t sure if he’d answer. When he was in training mode, he had a tendency to be pretty reclusive. Instead of coming back to her apartment, he’d stay at his place on base, because it was closer, and gave him the opportunity to come straight home and collapse into bed at night right away.

But tonight was one of those nights where she longed for him. He always knew what to do to make her feel better. Now she was all alone and in utter misery. But, she’d always pushed through everything life threw at her, and this was no different. She’d simply have to bite the bullet and get through it. She had never needed anyone before. She didn’t figure she needed them now. But oh, how wrong she was.

She drifted back to sleep that night, the pain lulling her into a fitful slumber. When she woke the next morning, the room was still too bright for her sensitive eyes, and her head seemed to ache even more so, if at all possible.

It took her quite a few moments to work up the nerve to rise from the bed. Yet again, she held her head in her hands, and had to pause for a moment as the room began to spin around her. It should have been her first clue that something was horribly wrong, but she was stubborn, and was sure that this would pass soon.

Another dose of Excedrin was downed, and she forced herself out of bed. However, on her way down the hallway, she grew dizzy, and the unsteadying pain sent her careening into the bathroom, crashing to her knees just in time to vomit into the toilet.

She hadn’t eaten in over 24 hours, she realized, so there was hardly anything to expel. Finally, with her whole body trembling, she calmed down. She managed to reach a hand up to the sink to hoist herself from the floor, and when she looked in the mirror, she realized just how sickly she appeared.

There was no way she’d be able to go to work like this. So, she regretfully called Penny.

The first words out of the woman’s mouth were, “are you okay?”

“Hi. Yeah, I’ll be alright. I’m so sorry about last night. When I woke up I couldn’t believe I’d slept that late.”

“I understand, it happens. Will you be able to work tonight?”

“I don’t think so. I’m sure I’ll feel better by tomorrow.”

“Well if you aren’t feeling well tomorrow, don’t feel like you need to come in. You should rest up,” Penny warned.

“It’s Friday. I don’t want to leave you high and dry on such a busy night.”

“You won’t be a help to me if you’re sick, hon. So please, get some rest and only come in if you’re feeling up to it.”

“Okay, okay. I will. Thanks Penny.”

“Of course. Take care of yourself.”

When the call ended, she let out a weary sigh, leaning her weight on the sink. That two minute phone call had zapped her of any energy she might’ve had left. Her head throbbed in protest, and she let out a whimper as she squeezed her eyes shut.

Her phone vibrated in her hand and she looked down to find that it was a text from Bradley.

Sorry I haven’t been able to call you. Might be able to talk tonight, if you want. Love, love.

She didn’t have the energy to respond. Instead, she dragged herself back out into the hall and toward the kitchen. She could only muster the strength to unpeel a banana and eat it. Anything else proved to be too difficult of a task.

The rest of the day carried on that way. She was lethargic and miserable. Medication did nothing to soothe her poor, aching skull. She was left to sprawl out on the couch and keep her head nestled against a throw pillow.

She dozed off throughout the day. Bradley texted her again later that afternoon. She didn’t hear the phone vibrate. Sometime in the late evening, she became aware of the fact that her body was warm all over. Somehow, she managed to stumble to the bathroom and rifle through the medicine cabinet over the sink for a thermometer.

When she pulled the device out of her mouth, it read 102°F. “Fuck,” she sighed. Concern grew in the pit of her stomach. She wasn’t sure what to make of a crushing headache paired with a fever. She had no other familiar symptoms like a congestion or a sore throat. This was entirely foreign to her. In hindsight, she would realize that not going to the hospital right away was the most foolish mistake she could ever make.

Lucky for her, a certain knight in shining armor of sorts would be coming to her rescue.

Before turning in for the night, she popped a few ibuprofen to bring the fever down, and headed straight to bed again. She left her phone on the living room coffee table, where it remained the rest of the night, going unanswered when Bradley tried to call her.

When she didn’t answer, he grew concerned. It wasn’t like her to forego a nighttime phone call from him. That, paired with the unanswered texts he’d sent her earlier, gave way to an odd sort of nagging in the back of his brain, like something was wrong.

The next morning, just before heading out for the last day of training before the weekend, he tried calling her again. It went straight to voicemail without even ringing. He pulled the phone from his ear and stared at it, brow furrowed in obvious worry.

“Everything okay?” It was Phoenix’s voice. She was good at reading Rooster’s tells. He looked tense with worry, which compelled her to ask what was going on.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “My girl isn’t answering my calls. She normally always answers.”

Phoenix offered a reassuring smile. “Maybe she’s still asleep?” She suggested.

“Maybe, but she didn’t answer last night either. Phe, I’ve just got this weird feeling that something’s wrong.”

Her face softened, and she stepped closer. “Maybe you can—” but before she could finish her sentence, she was interrupted by an abrupt, “Admiral on deck!” Prompting everyone to stand at attention, conversations forgotten.

Back at home, a very delirious, fever-ridden girl was just stumbling out of bed. When her feet touched the floor, it felt like her limbs were made of lead. She moaned in discomfort, and barely made it upright before she had to grip the bed post and steady herself.

She was able to make it to the bathroom, but when she got there, her sickness-addled brain forgot why she’d even stepped into the room in the first place. But the tile was cool under her feet, and she decided it would be a good place to cool down. So, she lowered herself to the floor and sprawled across the cold tile. That’s where she would remain the rest of the day, fading in and out of consciousness.

Bradley tried to remain stoic as he went about his job, but he was teeming with anxiety. Something was wrong, he was sure of it. And because of this, he wasn’t on his A-game during training. It prompted a few smartalec comments from Hangman, who was surprised when Rooster didn’t reciprocate any sharp verbal jabs.

By the time evening rolled around, even he was slightly worried, because it wasn’t like Bradley to be so distant. As they all walked out together that evening, Hangman fell into step beside Phoenix.

“What’s with Bradshaw today?” He asked, voice low.

“Something’s wrong with Bradshaw?” An eavesdropping Coyote piped up from just behind the pair.

“Shh! Not too loud,” Hangman insisted, waving his hand in a be quiet motion.

Natasha glanced at him through her peripheral before quickly explaining why Bradley was acting so off.

“Shit, really?” Then he looked up, catching sight of the other pilot up ahead before he jogged over to him. “Everything alright, Bradshaw?”

He raised a brow. “Why do you ask?”

“Phoenix said something might be going on with your girl. Do you want me to go with you to check on her?” He was genuinely offering. Bradley’s comrades had all come to love his sweet girlfriend, so much so that they were very protective of her, and would do all they could to prevent any harm from coming to her.

Bradley hesitated. “I’m gonna head over to the Hard Deck first. Find out if Penny’s seen her.”

And that’s how Penny Benjamin came face to face with a group of very concerned pilots, huddling around her bar with expectant looks on their faces.

“What’s going on?” She asked.

Bradley stepped forward, and realization dawned across Penny’s features when he asked if she’d seen his girlfriend. “She’s been sick the last few days. I tried calling her today and there was no answer. You should probably go—” but before she could finish her sentence, the sandy haired aviator was already turning on his heel and rushing out of the bar.

“Roos! We’re coming with you!” Phoenix called, hot on his heels.

“You don’t need to—” but when he turned around to protest, he found his friends staring back at him. Bob, Phoenix, and Hangman had decided that out of the whole group, they were going to be his wingmen, so to speak, as he went to find out what was going on. He realized that telling them no was a lost cause, so he sighed, relenting.

They all squeezed into Bradley’s Bronco, and soon, a gaggle of pilots was leaving base to go check on their comrade’s girlfriend. Maybe they were all overreacting, but they were concerned, and just wanted to help out.

“When was the last time you talked to her?” Bob spoke up from the backseat, question directed at Bradley.

“Uh…the day I left for training. I usually don’t have time to call her the first day or two so we didn’t talk for a couple days.”

“Penny said she called in sick, right? I’ve never known that girl to miss a day of work, like, ever,” Hangman, who was sitting shotgun, mused.

“Was there anything out of the ordinary when you left?” It was Natasha’s turn to ask a question.

“I don’t think so. We woke up, and then…” He trailed off for a moment as he realized one very important detail. “Oh, shit. She said she had a headache. I noticed she was acting kind of off but she insisted she was fine.” He sighed in frustration, shaking his head. “Fuck, what if it was something life threatening?”

Phoenix’s eyes widened. “Hey, let’s not jump

to conclusions yet. We’ll see what’s wrong when we get there.”

They arrived in no time, thanks to Bradley going over the speed limit. As soon as they reached the apartment complex, they were all rushing inside. Her apartment was situated on the sixth floor. The elevator ride up was the longest few minutes of the four aviators lives, it felt like.

When the doors slid open, Bradley was the first one out, already reaching into his pocket to retrieve the apartment key. He realized his hands were shaking as he tried to insert the metal into the lock. His chest was tight with anxiety, an awful sense of dread weighing heavily on his shoulders.

He imagined the worst, picturing the love of his life dead, helpless and alone. It sent a jolt of panic through him, and it was as if he couldn’t get the door open fast enough. He prayed to whoever was listening that he hadn’t lost the most important thing in his life.

Once he got the door open, the four of them stumbled through. The apartment was dark, and it sent alarm bells off in Bradley’s mind. He called out her name, but his voice sounded foreign to his own ears.

The other three set about searching the apartment, calling her name. Bradley’s feet were heavy as he followed after them. Jake stepped into the bedroom and flipped on the light. They were all met with the sight of an empty bed.

Bradley knew there was only one other place to look. Fear bloomed to life in his chest, and his hands trembled as he turned, stepping down the hallway and pausing outside the closed bathroom door. He grabbed the knob, only to find that the door was stuck. The creaky old door had a tendency to latch itself at the worst times. It was something Bradley had been meaning to fix, but had never gotten around to it.

Before bursting into the bathroom like a madman and risking embarrassing her, he knocked first. “Baby? Are you in there?” He called. He was met with silence.

“Is it locked?” Phoenix asked.

“It’s stuck. Sometimes we gotta use force.” Then, he looked back, motioning for the trio to step aside as he stepped backwards to gain some momentum.

He threw his weight against the door. It groaned, almost as if in protest. Again, a broad shoulder was slammed into the wood, and this time, a splintering sound could be heard. One more display of force, and it flew open, fast enough that it slammed against the bathroom wall inside.

He reached for the light switch, and when he flipped it on, he was met with a sight that sent his blood running cold. “Oh my god.”

He rushed into the bathroom, falling to his knees beside the prone form of his girlfriend. He was almost hesitant to touch her, for fear of finding her skin cold as ice.

In fact, Bradley froze. He knew he needed to be springing into action, needed to check her pulse, make sure she was alive. But his hands felt heavy as iron, and he couldn’t move.

The one who finally acted was Bob. He was quick to kneel beside Rooster, reaching out to gently turn the girl and press his fingers to her pulse point. His eyes widened when he realized how warm she was.

“She’s alive,” he assured the man beside him, “but she’s burning up. We need to get her to the hospital right away.”

The word hospital snapped him to attention. He met Bob’s worried gaze, and nodded. “We can take her there ourselves, it’ll be faster.” Bradley leaned over her body, carefully lifting her into his arms. He almost shied away at just how warm her body was. She was consumed with fever.

“I’ve got you, baby,” he whispered as he rose to his feet. Then he looked up to find the grim faces of Jake and Natasha. All Bradley had to do was nod and they were all heading back out of the apartment.

In no time, they were back outside. “I’ll drive,” Jake offered. “Keys, Bradshaw.” He held his hand out.

“Not a chance,” Phoenix cut in, stepping forward to reach into Rooster’s left pocket, where she’d seen him shove the keys into earlier.

Under normal circumstances, Hangman would’ve argued, but not now. It didn’t matter who drove, as long as they got to the hospital. He simply rolled his eyes and instead opted to open the back door so Rooster could climb inside.

The moment everyone was settled, Phoenix was heading off toward the hospital. The interior was somber and quiet, each pilot sick with worry over the girl Rooster held in his arms.

He cradled her close, reaching up a hand to brush her hair out of her face. “Can you hear me, sweetheart?” He whispered. He hoped she could. “Just hang on, alright? We’re gonna get you some help.” And then, more quietly, “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.” It would be something he’d beat himself up over for a long time.

“You couldn’t have known,” Bob softly spoke up from beside him.

“I knew something was wrong when she didn’t respond to my texts or calls. I should’ve taken that as a sign to go check on her.”

The bespectacled lieutenant shook his head, and there was nothing but kindness in his face. “You can’t play the blame game, Rooster. It’ll drive you mad.”

He was right, after all. But that didn’t stop Bradley from silently beating himself over the fact that he hadn’t been there when the love of his life needed him most. He imagined her all alone, unable to call for help, and it gutted him. I should’ve been there. I should’ve found a way.

When the Bronco finally came to a stop outside the emergency room, all of them got out. The poor receptionist running the desk looked up to find four frantic pilots staring back at her. One of them held a girl in his arms and he looked about ready to fall to his knees.

“P-please, she needs help,” he croaked.

A flurry of activity took place around the group. Someone reached out to take his entire world from his arms. He almost didn’t want to let her go, and subconsciously, his grip tightened on her. But he was surprised when Jake’s hand landed against his chest, his voice in Bradley’s ear, saying, “let ‘em take her. They’ll take good care of her.” And he finally let her go.

As she was wheeled away, the group watched helplessly. It might’ve looked humorous to a random passerby. Four of the Navy’s best aviators, rendered to nothing more than a concerned, anxiety ridden mess.

They were told to retire to the waiting room, and that a doctor would be out eventually to inform them of what was going on.

That’s where they found themselves. Hangman was sitting on the window sill, staring out into the dark parking lot. Rooster was pacing back and forth, enough to wear a hole in the linoleum. Phoenix sat sideways in one of the chairs, her legs slung over the uncomfortable wooden arm. Bob sat on the other side of her, face sullen as he stared down at his feet.

Bradley felt like he was going insane from not knowing. He kept raking his fingers through his hair, hard enough that it hurt, but he didn’t care. His chest was tight with fear. He just wanted answers.

He didn’t know what he’d do if he lost her. The thought was unimaginable. Had he really come this far, and finally let someone in after years of living as a lone wolf, only to lose her in the end? The thought alone almost drove him to his knees.

Bob, ever the empath, looked up to find Bradley distraught, and his heart ached. He stood, moving to step in front of the other man. Bradley looked back at him, and finally, he broke. He leaned forward, and Bob pulled him into a hug, allowing him to cry silently against his shoulder.

Then, he was joined by Natasha, who wrapped her arms around both men. From the window sill, Jake gazed at the teary-eyed trio, and he let out a dramatic sigh as he rose to his feet and joined in on the group hug in the middle of the hospital waiting room.

“Group hugging you three idiots is not how I imagined spending my Friday night, yet here we are,” he piped up, totally ruining the emotional moment, but pulling a laugh from each of them. Even Bradley, who smiled despite himself.

“Leave it to you to ruin a good moment, Bagman,” Natasha teased, shoving at his chest.

After playfully pushing her hand away, the blonde looked at Bradley, his face now sober. “For what it’s worth, I hope she pulls through.”

The other man gave him a nod. “Thanks, Seresin.”

They all parted, and this time, Rooster was able to take a seat, settling beside Bob. He’d always been friendly with the guy, but now, in the midst of the turmoil he was experiencing, Bob was a quiet, calming force, and it was helping Bradley through this moment more than he could say.

Again, the waiting room drifted into somber silence as they all nervously awaited information. Minutes passed by, and soon, minutes bled into an hour and a half.

Rooster finally stood up, legs sore from sitting for so long. “Goddammit, what’s taking so long?” He huffed, hands clenched into fists at his sides.

He was heavily considering storming up to the front desk to demand answers, but Natasha stopped him, gentle hand on his shoulder. “Hey, let me,” she quietly offered.

He nodded, and she slipped away, making her way up to the desk to inquire about his girl’s status. The receptionist had no definitive answers, and a forlorn Phoenix made her way back to the boys, shaking her head. They all groaned in frustration.

“How about I get us all something from the vending machine?” She offered. That seemed to catch their attention, and a few minutes later, she was returning to the waiting room with an armful of snacks and bottled drinks. Everyone took what they wanted and went back to moping about, this time with food in hand.

Finally, a doctor walked into the waiting room. She didn’t have to look very far. There was a group of very despondent pilots sitting in the middle of the room. One of them, a blonde one, perked up at the sight of the doctor, and he reached out, tapping another one, a mustached young man, on the shoulder.

Mustache popped out of his seat, whirling around. His eyes were wide, face awash with fear as the doctor approached. The others stood up as well, waiting expectantly, and forming a bit of a protective group around him.

“Which one of you is Bradley Bradshaw?”

Mustache weakly raised a hand. “I am.” His voice nearly failed him.

The doctor stepped forward. “You did the right thing, bringing her in when you did. A few hours longer and she very well could have passed away.”

All four pilots breathed a sigh of relief at the realization that she was alive. “What’s wrong with her?” Bradley asked, dark eyes swirling with concern.

“We ran some tests and it appears that she has a rare type of bacterial infection. It caused the extremely high fever. It doesn’t pass from person to person, so none of you are at risk of contagion, if you were worried about that. We’ve been able to get her fever down partially, and we started her on antibiotics. We’ll be keeping her for a few days to monitor her symptoms and make sure she doesn’t get worse.”

“Is she awake?”

“No sir, not yet. What she needs is a good night of rest. I’d imagine she’ll be more herself tomorrow, once the antibiotics start doing their job. She’s being sent up to a room as we speak.”

“Can we see her?” The blonde one asked.

The doctor eyed the group warily. They were all chomping at the bit to see the sick girl, and frankly, it was adorable. However, visiting hours were long past over. Even so, she was torn. She let out a sigh, staring back at their hopeful faces. “Look, visiting hours are over. I can’t let all of you go up there. But I will make an exception for Mr. Bradshaw here, since she’s his partner. The rest of you will have to head home and come back at 0800 hours.”

The disappointment was visible on all their faces, but they were respectful, and didn’t put up an argument. Once the doctor finished up her required spiel and dismissed herself, the group of friends turned to Rooster. Another group hug was had, and they all shared in the relief that everything was going to be okay.

“Text us as soon as she wakes up,” Natasha instructed as she handed Bradley his car keys back. “We’ll be back tomorrow morning with breakfast.”

He looked at each of his comrades, hardly able to express his thanks for their support. “Thanks for waiting with me, guys. Made me feel less alone.”

“We’ll always be there for you, whenever you need us,” Bob spoke up with a smile.

Rooster lurched forward and pulled him into another hug. “You’re a good guy, Bobby. Thanks,” he murmured.

“Alright, alright, cut the sap. My teeth are about to rot out of my head,” Hangman cut in.

The two men parted, and Jake stepped over to clap Bradley on the back. “Now get outta here and go see your girl, Bradshaw.”

“Aye, aye sir,” he replied with a mock salute.

He watched his friends head out of the waiting room and into the night, Phoenix and Hangman already lightheartedly bickering about something. Probably how they were getting home for the night. Bob shook his head in quiet annoyance, turning back to give Rooster one last wave before they all disappeared outside.

Finally, Bradley turned on his heel and made his way to the elevator. Now that he was alone, his mind threatened to overwhelm him. All the anxiety he’d been trying to keep at bay came rushing to the surface, and his hand trembled as he pressed the button.

It felt like an eternity before the doors finally slid open. He stepped inside and rode up a few floors. He was able to obtain her room number from the front desk after assuring them Dr. Holt had said it was okay for him to stay. Nobody had the heart to tell him otherwise, not with that look of fear written all over his face, which made him look younger than he was.

When he was able to step into her room, the sight he was met with knocked the wind out of him. Yes, he’d seen her half conscious on the bathroom floor hours earlier, but this was different. She was hooked up to different machines, and there was an IV in her arm.

He was overcome with longing. Longing to take her body into his arms and protect her from all harm. Longing to make her pain and sickness go away. It was times like these when he wished he was God, just a little bit. But he was a mere man, and didn’t have the power to do the things the Almighty did.

Instead, he made his way over to her bedside, and sank down into the uncomfortable chair nearby. “Hey, sweetheart,” he whispered, reaching out to take her hand in his own. “You scared the hell out of me. I thought…I thought I was going to lose you.”

Tears blurred his vision, and he closed his eyes. swallowing them back and instead opting to say something more positive. “Everyone else was scared, too. You should’ve seen them. Even Hangman was worried, if you can believe it.”

He squeezed her hand thrice. I. Love. You. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to you sooner. I should’ve known something was up when you didn’t answer my texts. I just hate the thought of you needing help and no one being there.”

He could see it so clearly in his mind’s eye. A picture of her. Sick, delirious from fever, entirely alone. It made his heart lurch in his chest. “But, I’m here now, baby. And I’m not gonna leave your side until you open those pretty eyes of yours.”

True to his word, Bradley didn’t leave her side once through the night. He situated himself in that vinyl chair and slept in an uncomfortable position that would be sure to leave a crick in his neck, but it was worth it as long as he got to be near her.

When light began to peek through the clouds, Bradley woke, his bleary eyes settling on the girl who still remained still beside him.

“Morning, baby,” he hummed, reaching out to bring her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. His thumb rubbed comforting circles into her skin.

In the wee morning hours, just before the morning nurse came in, Bradley cherished the moment of peace he had with the woman he loved.

He held her hand and silently prayed that she would come back to him. And she did. With the dawning of a new day, she slowly opened her eyes, and in turn, Bradley’s own filled with tears.

“I’m here, sweetheart,” he assured her, leaning in close.

When her vision focused, she found the face of a very relieved Bradley Bradshaw staring back at her. His deep umber eyes were brimming with unshed tears, but they quickly made their way down his cheeks.

She was quiet as she oriented herself. It was clear that she was in the hospital. But she had no recollection of how she got there. The last thing she remembered was getting out of bed and heading to the bathroom.

“Wh-what happened?” She croaked. His hand tightened comfortingly around hers.

“You were really sick. We found you unconscious at the apartment.”

“We?”

“Yeah, uh, me, Phoenix, Bob, and Hangman. They helped me get you to the hospital.”

She shifted a little, and realized the crushing headache that had been plaguing her the last few days was gone. “How long have I been here?”

“Since last night. They got you on some antibiotics and brought your fever down.”

She looked at him again, gazing into his kind, concerned face. “Is this the part where you play mother hen and scold me for not asking for help sooner?” There was a smile playing on her lips.

Bradley raised his brow. “Actually, yes. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It was just a headache, nothing worth bothering you over. I figured I’d take some Excedrin and feel better in a few hours. But a few hours turned into a few days, and then I was out of my mind with fever.”

The man sighed. “Well, I should’ve known something was up when you didn’t answer your phone. That’s when I should have sent Penny to check on you.”

“Hey, don’t blame yourself, sweet man. I’m okay now, you don’t need to beat yourself up.”

“I always do,” he countered. He was right about that, he had quite the tendency to get too far into his own head and berate himself for things.

Then he sobered, eyes meeting her own. “Finding you like that…it was one of the scariest moments of my life. I froze up. It was like my body couldn’t move. I was fucking terrified.” His gaze lowered to their joined hands. “Bob was the one who kinda got the ball rolling and helped me snap out of it. That guy is something else.”

She smiled softly. “Remind me to thank him, then,” she said.

“You should thank all three of them. They stayed with me in the waiting room the whole time. I don’t know what I would’ve done without them.”

Her heart was touched at the loyalty of their friends. “When I get out of here we can take them out as a thank you.”

Rooster mirrored her smile. “Yeah, that’s a good idea.”

Their private moment was soon interrupted as a nurse walked into the room. He took that as a sign to excuse himself and text the three pilots who just so happened to already be waiting outside the hospital, eager to come inside and visit.

“You think she’s awake yet?” Jake questioned as they stood around Natasha’s car.

“I don’t know, Rooster didn’t say anything yet,” she replied.

“Guys, he just did,” Bob spoke up, holding up his phone. Both of them looked at their own phones, and sure enough, there was a text from Bradley.

She’s awake :) we’re in room 315

The trio all exchanged looks, smiles on their faces. “One minute ‘til visiting hours start,” Bob spoke, matter-of-factly.

“Close enough. Let’s go,” Hangman said, waving for them to follow.

They all headed inside, scrambling for the elevator, arms full of pastry bags from the base cafe. When they finally made it to her room, they found her seated upright in bed, Bradley at her bedside. She smiled at the three of them, and suddenly they were all talking at once, expressing their relief that she was okay.

She laughed at their eagerness, and gladly accepted the hugs they all gave her, along with the pastries. The dark, heavy cloud that had hovered over everyone was finally lifted, replaced by the sunshine of their smiles.

“You should’ve seen Prince Charming over here,” Jake spoke up, clapping a hand against Bradley’s shoulder. Prince Charming was the nickname Jake had dubbed him after he met her, his princess. “He was worried sick about you. I thought he was gonna pull his hair out by how much he kept raking his hands through it.”

Bradley smiled sheepishly. She reached for his hand again and gave it three squeezes. I. Love. You. “Sounds like my Rooster,” she said fondly. Then she addressed them all. “Thank you guys for looking out for me. Bradley says you stayed with him the whole time.”

“It didn’t feel right to leave him alone,” said Natasha. “Plus we all wanted to stick around and find out if you were going to be okay. Can’t tell you how relieved we were when the doc said you would be.”

“Yeah. You had us scared there for a minute,” Bob piped up. His blue eyed gaze was warm.

“When I get out of here, Roos and I are taking you all out as a thank you.”

“We’ll go, but only if you promise one thing,” Hangman spoke.

“What’s that?”

“That you never scare us like that again.”

She couldn’t help the smile that broke across her face. “Deal,” she agreed.

And that’s how she spent her morning. In a hospital room, surrounded by the love of her life and her closest friends, sharing pastries, shitty coffee, and laughter.

She knew then, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that these people were her ride-or-dies. They’d follow her and Bradley to the ends of the earth, if need be. And she couldn’t ask for better friends if she wanted to.

She had everything she could ever need, right there in the middle of her hospital room. And she wouldn’t have it any other way.

@halfway-happyyy @natasharomanoffisbaebby @oliviabelova @robertbobfloydlover @supernaturaldawning @marrianena @mys2425 @n3ssm0nique @ice-mans-world @lovemesomevesey @straightforwardly @mochi-de-bisou @christinafaucher @emmmaturtle @fantasias-creativebubble @worldmadeofmemories @tarohemianrocketmanapsody @m0chac0ffee @not-leaprvt @i-simp-much @soaharleys @colorfultyrantearthquake @obxsuperfan07 @juniebugg @marchingicenotes7 @airedale17 @jamiedontbeacracko @monosjoons @dilfsandtherapy @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth @unluckymonaghan

#bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw imagine #rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw

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roses-for-rosalyn · 1 year

Text

Try Me

Dealer! Ellie blurb 💅

This was just in my head and I couldn't get it out. It's the first fic I have ever posted so be nice please! Obviously about tlou2 Ellie. Sort of a one shot sort of not.

part 2

not proof read!!

word count: 1.4k

Minors DNI 🔞 pls!

warnings: no use of y/n, drug!use 🍃, dealer!ellie, fem! reader, pet names, dom! ellie sort of, modern au, a lot of swearing (duh), mentions of toys!, no smut (yet hehe)

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Here you are again in front of the rust colored door you know all too well. Theres paint chipping in various places and three gold numbers reading "400". The numbers are tarnished with age and you stare at them while you think over the decisions that brought you here.

You are at your dealer's apartment, Ellie's apartment, not the usual meeting place for you to get your fix but god you were desperate. It had been a rough week for reasons you would absolutely not like to dwell on and you needed a sort of reprieve. On any other day you could have waited for Ellie to come to you. She usually drives over to your apartment and hands the prerolls off to you, but you were anxious and she said she wouldn't be able to drop it off until way later, unless you came to her. So here you are, probably for the third or fourth time this month. After you take a moment to reflect on your sad desperation you knock. Once, Twice.

The Door opens slowly to reveal Ellie in her usual battered skinny jeans, tank top, and flannel. You are confused as to why she has so much clothing on because it was hot as all hell. She must have a circulation problem or something if she can wear all of that in this heat. You’re in a pair of flannel pajama shorts and a t-shirt and even you’re sweating a little. Well, it could be nerves.

“Hi” you finally sqeak out.

“Hey” she replies looking you up and down. No doubt judging your rumpled state.

Ellie intimidates the shit out of you. She’s incredibly attractive and she can be very flirty which tends to catch you off guard. You usually just brush it off with a laugh and then lay awake at night wondering if she really meant it. You’re 90% sure she is messing with you because why would someone as beautiful as Ellie want anything to do with you. Like be for real.

Ellie breaks your train of thought.

“You just gonna stand there staring at me, or are you gonna come in?” You let out an awkward laugh and respond “yea sorry. Long day.”

“Me too. ’m fucking exhausted.” This surprises you a little and you wonder why she even acknowledged your text if that was the case. She could have told you tomorrow or even next week and you would have understood. It’s happened before.

She walks deeper into the apartment and you follow her in through a small hallway. There’s a kitchenette on the left with a fluorescent light over the sink and a small living space with an ancient couch and a TV. There’s a few lamps scattered around casting a soft warm light in the apartment. On the right is a doorway leading to what you would guess is her bedroom, though you’re not absolutely sure you’ve never been through there. Ellie walks through said doorway and disappears.

After you process your surroundings you realize why Ellie was wearing long sleeves and long pants: It was cold as fuck. Apparently Ellie likes living inside a fucking refrigerator. Jesus. You cross your arms in front of your chest and shiver a little. You picture the rest of your night: getting home, smoking, and using your vibrator until you fall asleep.

Ellie walks out of the room with a little ziploc bag of prerolls and stops just a little too far away. She hands the bag out to you so you have to walk towards her to try and grab it. She pulls it away and you look at her with what must be a confused look.

“If you stay here and smoke one of these with me I’ll give the rest to you for free” she says with a wicked smile.

“Sounds like a solid deal to me.” You smile back. You two weren’t really what you would consider friends, but you were friendly enough. You had watched movies and smoked with her in the past. She was nice to you, sometimes gave you free weed, and as an added bonus she was hot. You could use her company anyways.

“Beats doing the same thing at home alone I guess.” You add.

“You guess?”

“I mean yea..” you respond, wary of your word choice.

“I’m a fucking pleasure to be around of course you would rather be around me. Plus you’re pretty fun to play with. I like making you flustered.”

You make a sound that sort of resembles an “mhm” but it comes out so high pitched it’s almost a whine.

Ellie’s laughs “see what I mean.” she pauses, studying you intensely, you almost have to look away before she says “come on let’s watch a movie or something.”

You make your way over to the couch following Ellie's lead. When you sit down you immediately sink into the couch. The thing has to be at least 30 years old, but it was so comfortable. You turn to look at Ellie and she’s sitting with her legs open, her body leaned over with her elbows resting on her thighs. She grabs the joint from the coffee table and you watch her light up the joint and take the first hit. You watch the smoke escape from her lips and almost sigh.

"Aww you gonna make sure that shit isn't laced? just for me?" you say semi-jokingly. Although it's happened to you before (obviously not supplied by Ellie). Not fun.

"anything for you princess." she shoots back. Your cheeks grow pink at the nickname and you pray she can't tell in this dim lighting. Your eyes wander down to her bicep watching the muscles flex as she puts the joint to her lips. Shit you were staring, you quickly switch your gaze to study the small coffee table. There's a few empty soda cans and a half eaten bag of chips. You wonder if she had already smoked a little before this. Ellie hands you the preroll and you take a hit. You inhale deeply trying to get as much into your lungs as possible.

As you exhale you ask "You invite all your customers to smoke with you?" You've been curious for a while now because it seemed like a peculiar gesture for a dealer.

"Only the pretty ones." She looks at you with a smirk. You have no idea how to respond so you let out a sort of huff that was meant to be a laugh.

Ellie turns on some animated movie for entertainment. As you pass the joint back and fourth you feel the effects start to kick in. An unexplained smile tugs at your lips and a calmness makes it's way through your whole body.

You're not sure how much time has gone by, but you have both managed to finish the first joint. You look over at Ellie watching the glow of the TV bounce off her features. You trace your eyes down her face and stop for a moment at her lips and then down to her neck. You observe the way her thighs are spread open.

Nope. Nope, nope. Shit. You have to cross your legs as thoughts of Ellie invade your mind. Whatever you smoked had you wayy hornier than usual. It's fine you just need to make your way back home.

"I should make my way back home." you blurt out. Ellie looks at you confused.

"We literally just finished off the preroll and you already want to leave me?" she asks with a joking tone. "In all seriousness you are way to high to leave right now. Can you wait like 45 minutes for me pretty girl? That way I can get you home safe myself." Oh god another nickname.

"I think I can make my way back trust me. I know the way back home so well I'd have to be on a lot more drugs to forget." You insist. You would like nothing more right now than to go home and make yourself cum with your vibrator until you fall asleep.

"Is there something you need princess? I can probably get it for you here."

"I really don't think you can get me what I need." you are desperately trying to get her to let you leave. Why does she care about your well being so much?

"try me." she challenges.

You attempt to take a moment to try and think about your options here, but thinking is futile in your state of mind.

"I am extraordinarily horny and I would like to go home and remedy that with my vibrator." You admit, hoping it freaks her out enough to let you leave.

Ellie smirks and looks you directly in the eyes before saying:

"I can definitely help you with that here."

#ellie williams #ellie tlou #dealer!ellie #pet names #fem reader #fem!reader #tlou #the last of us #i am delusional #lesfic #modern au #tlou 2 Ellie #the last of us ellie #ellie x reader #ellie williams smut #one shot

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