#i’ve become that bitch who has watched everything he’s in | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fadingdaggerr · 2 months

Note

hey! I just wanted to see if I could request a Melissa x Reader fic where basically r is a teacher at the school and her best friend is ava, and r has the fattest crush on melissa ever but the only ones who know are ava, barbra, and mr johnson (bc dude knows everything)

and ava and barbra are trying to be wingman because melissa likes r. so just a bunch of mutual pining and fluff. and when they confess it’s snowing.

if you can’t do that that’s totally fine! but if you do thanks in advance and take your time

as you ever were

pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader

summary: request above | 8k

includes: mutual pining, ava and barb meddling, kinda dialogue heavy oops, these bitches Oblivious, author is a classics nerd

warnings: (minimal) they/them pronoun use for R, sexual innuendos, (brief) alcohol consumption, kissing/light making out

note: sorry i took so long getting to this req. school started up and work is genuinely insane. plus i got a little too into writing this so editing too a little while. i actually really like how this turned out :)

Unforecasted frozen rain forced recess to be inside, everyone was to just stick to their classroom since there was no time to prepare the gymnasium for indoor recess on such short notice. The kids spent the first five minutes of recess begging you to go outside, to which you open the window, to which Sean says oh, hell no, resulting in a scolding from you.

Within five more minutes, your teacher-senses begin to tingle. Something is wrong. Looking up from your record book, you glance around the classroom until your eyes land on Karam. The seven year old had just moved to Philly with his parents a few weeks ago, and with this being his first week at a new school, he has been understandably frazzled. The boy is facing towards your desk, away from his classmates, sitting on a beanbag chair and crying to himself.

Immediately, you rise out of your chair and approach him gently, lowering yourself to sit criss-cross in front of him. “Hey, Karam. What’s going on?” you ask calmly, not trying to draw attention to his state nor baby him. The only response you get is a shake of the head, so you ask, “would you like some alone time right here?” Another shake of the head, another question, “do you want to talk alone, just you and me? You can bring Pickle.”

This offer seems to appease him, he instantly stands and goes to his backpack to grab his beloved stuffed sea lion. You get to the doorway and keep your hand on his shoulder where he stands just out of sight of the other kids, hoping no one will see him and decide to get nosy.

“Okay, chickens. I’m going to run across the hall very quickly, keep doing what you’re doing. Ashante, honey, you’re in charge,” you say with a little grin, it becomes a full smile when the girl salutes you.

Once you’re in the hall, Karam grabs your hand tightly with big tears ready to fall, and stays close as you cross diagonally to some of your students' previous second grade classroom. You lean into the doorway, still keeping Karam out of sight of others, and knock to gain a certain redhead’s attention. She’s quick to get to you, seeing a sort of urgency on your face.

“What’s up?”

“Can you watch my class, please? I’ve got a situation here,” you tip your head to the side to gesture to Karam, still gripping your hand and sniffling. “I promise I’ll pay you back somehow, lunch, lunch duty, recess duty, whatever. Just, please?”

Melissa takes one look at you pleading eyes and knows she can’t say no to you, especially not with a sad little friend by your side. “You owe me nothing. I’ll bring the kids to my room and you can come get ‘em after,” she says with a tone she hopes shows she’s being genuine.

“Thank you, thank you so much,” you rush out, immediately your attention falling back to the tears rolling down Karam’s cheeks. Melissa scoots over to your room, corralling the kids across the hall with an excited tone to keep their eyes on her and not you and their classmate.

With the extra bodies in the room, Melissa finds that the doorway was a good place to observe all the kids in her room. Though she tries to keep her eagle eyes on the students, they slowly slide to your form in the hall, crouched down below the boy’s eye level with his hand in yours. Her ears feel like a radio, tuning into the hushed volume you keep.

“It’s okay to be sad, buddy. Everything and everyone is so new, you’re allowed to be scared,” you say as you wipe his cheeks with a tissue, “and you and I both know that baba and daddy would never bring you somewhere that wasn’t safe. And Pickle, he’s here for you, and so am I.”

The boy leans into you for a hug, and your arms wrap tightly around him. Melissa tries not to stare, but she’s unable to take her eyes off the interaction. The way you rock him gently side to side, it was clear you weren’t letting go until he did. She vaguely remembers you mentioning that being a rule of yours when you first started at Abbott, when you took over her third grade class and her entire field of vision.

Melissa averts her eyes back to the kids as the hug ends, but she still listens discreetly. You wipe Karam’s face as you speak, “let’s go get you some water, okay? And maybe, if you use those puppy eyes, nurse Makiah will let you pick out a lollipop. Does that sound like a deal?”

“Do we have to come back to recess?” The shyness in his voice makes you pout.

“Yes, because Miss Schemmenti was super nice to watch all our friends for me while we’re talking, and I’m sure she’d like her room back,” you peek up to Melissa quickly, “and when we get back, we’re gonna say a big ‘thank you,’ alright?”

“Yeah,” Karam answers quietly, but his next words are so quiet you barely hear them, “thank you.”

“Of course, chicken. Let’s go.” Melissa pretends she’s not watching you walk down the hall with a hand still in Karam’s, her eyes switch back to her class when you disappear around the corner.

When you return to get the kids from Melissa, she instead insists that you just sit out the rest of recess in her room since the students were already playing together. That’s the only reason, nothing else. You keep a cautious eye on Karam as he sits down to draw with one of Melissa’s students, and once you see him start to arrange his colors, you drift your attention to the woman next to you.

“Thank you, seriously. And I will be paying you back for this,” you say, bumping your shoulder with hers.

“I said you ain’t gotta do anyth-”

You cut her off, “I said. I’m. Paying. You. Back. Just accept it, I’m not budging.”

All she gives as an answer is a huff through her nose, but the smile that stretches her lips makes you feel fluttery. Her smile is not a rare sight, but it’s rare that you get to see it this close. When she faces away for only a couple seconds, you take the time to just take her in. Beautiful.

In the hall, a conversation between Barbara and Ava about clearing an extra bulletin board for the kindergarteners art projects was halted when they caught Melissa watching you with Karam. Both women looked at her, unseen even by Melissa’s typically sensitive attention, and all they saw was a soft putty of a woman. When you returned to the classroom, they slowly got closer to see what was going on, curiosity drawing them in.

All they could see were gentle, shy smiles and hidden glances of adoration for each other. It clicked in their minds at the same moment. Their best friends had it bad for each other.

Their plan was formed in a single glance.

—☽—

“So… What are you gonna do about Red?” Ava asks as she reaches the midpoint of her braid.

You’re sitting behind her on a cushion, parting a section in the back of her head to start on a braid yourself. Your focus makes your response time slower and quieter than usual, “what d’ya mean?”

Ava’s chuckles, “how you’ve got the hots for Schemmenti.”

Her obvious tone makes you stall, too long, but you try to deflect anyway, “I’ve got no clue what you mean.”

She laughs. Ava laughs and it would be in your face if she weren’t so busy with her hair. She doesn’t need to turn to know you’ve got that shocked expression on your face, the one where your eyes are wide and blank, face otherwise neutral, but she knows the expression well. The first time she’d seen it was the day she met you in seventh grade, and she proclaimed you her best friend to everyone in the cafeteria, just a mere three hours after meeting each other.

“Don’t lie to me, Gremlin,” she jokes, using her nickname for you she adopted from your favorite movie as a kid, “I know when you like someone, and you want that Italian sub to Italian dom you.”

“I hate you,” you groan, “if you mention even a single thing to her Ava, I will buy out all the caramel hair from the beauty supply and you’ll never see it again.” She gasps, as if it were a real threat you could carry out on your budget, but she knows how serious you are. With a roll of her eyes, Ava decides to hold off until you’re not braiding her hair to annoy you more.

Much later into the night and all there is really left to do is trim, seal, and add products to her roots, Ava knows she can’t let the topic of the previous conversation go. She decides to speak up while she trims the last few front pieces and you pick up the hair packaging and combs from around the room.

“Just saying though, if you stopped making ‘I wanna have your babies’ eyes, you could ask her out,” Ava tries to explain. She almost adds a what’s the worst that could happen? but she knows exactly where your mind will go.

“I don’t wanna ‘have her babies,’ you freak,” you sigh as you get some hot water, “I just… I dunno. I don’t want to ruin the friendship I have with her when she inevitably rejects me.”

She’s obsessed with you, she won’t reject you, Ava wants to say. Even if others, and even herself, would label her selfish, the one thing she doesn’t ever let slide is you letting your insecurity get the best of you. She likes her extra job as your personal hype-woman when you get in your head. Ava weighs her option, “well… you could put out some feelers. Invite her somewhere or, I don’t know, look her in the eye when you talk to her.”

“You’re right,” you say with a gruffness that she knows is defeat. If she can just get you and Melissa talking, interacting more, then maybe she and Barb can figure out a way to worm you two together.

“You do like her, don’t you?” She knows the answer, she wants you to say it though.

There’s a deep inhale before you answer, “of course I do. She- she’s so- I do like her, so much. Like, I want to bite a chunk out of the table when she looks at me.”

“Yeah, don’t do that, we don’t know where they’ve been,” Ava says with a touch of disgust, “and she’ll think you’re more of a freak than you already are.” She rightfully earns a smack on the shoulder at that one.

Dipping the ends of her hair into the hot water, you think silently. Ava has a point, if you spent even a tenth of the time you spend thinking about Melissa, when she was right in front of you, talking to her instead, you’d probably not be so nervous at the thought of making eye contact with her. Sometimes it was nice though, just getting to look at her, seeing her easy smile when she speaks to Barbara and the playful glint in her eye when she lovingly picks on Jacob. Whenever her attention falls on you, you shy away. Maybe Ava has a point.

At Barbara and Melissa’s weekly brunch that same Saturday morning, their conversation falls down a similar path.

Ever the professional deterrer, Melissa manages to push the conversation away from the topic of you, trying to keep Barb on Gerald or bible club. Usually her friend catches the hint to stay away from the topic, but there’s no way she was getting out of this one.

“So… are we gonna keep beating around the bush or are we going to talk about it?”

Melissa just sips her mimosa, suddenly interested in the painting across the room.

“Melissa.”

What… interesting brush strokes.

“Melissa Ann, so help me.”

She turns back, “yes, Barb?”

“Don’t ‘yes, Barb’ me. Spill,” there is no room for argument.

“There’s nothing to spill, Barb,” Melissa says, and she means it. It’s clear Barbara had picked up on her feelings for you, but nothing had been done to go past acknowledging she cared for you.

Barb tilts her head to the side, “oh, really? So, we’re just going to pretend that you’re not utterly infatuated with everyone’s new favorite third grade teacher?” Melissa stares at Barbara with wide eyes, thrown off by the blunt nature of her inquiry. Her friend only shakes her head, “for the good Lord’s sake, Melissa. Anyone with eyes can see you’ve got feelings for them, and I know you know that too.”

Green eyes shift away from brown, and they instead stare at the drink in front of her, nervous hands coming up to play with the umbrella to keep them busy instead of shaking in her lap. What Barb said wasn’t untrue, she knows it. Barbara Howard is always right in the end. But that isn’t where the apprehension in her gut stems from.

“Yeah, yeah. I know,” Melissa mumbles, insecurity from her mind reaching her throat.

Barbara can sense it and tries a softer approach, “I think I can say on good authority that the feelings are probably mutual. You could give it a shot, they’d be lucky to have you.”

“And what’s that good authority?”

“My eyes,” Barbara deadpans, her face reading are you serious?

The conversation stops there, more of a self preservation move for the kindergarten teacher. Underneath the silence from Melissa, it’s obvious her mind is going in circles trying to weigh her options. Did she have feelings for you? Yes. But would she do anything if she wasn’t one hundred percent certain you’d return her feelings? No. She was almost certain you didn’t, you rarely ever looked her in the eye and you got all quiet and mumbly when she spoke.

Conclusion: Barb’s nuts.

—☽—

When Monday comes back around, you feel like the air in the lounge, or at least around your table, is different. Barbara’s eyes keep shifting between you and Melissa in what she thinks are subtle glances, but the constant eyes on you start making you nervous. Shifting uncomfortably for a moment, you rise from your chair to go to the coffee pot to get away from the prying. While your back is to them, a different form of attention falls on you. Olive eyes scan over you with a soft glint, taking the opportunity to admire you when you’re not looking. Her attention feels different from Barb’s, you can feel it without seeing it. It’s warm, all consuming.

When you turn back around, you can see a section of Melissa’s hair swinging slightly from motion. She was looking at you, and she was hiding it horribly. Instead of mentioning it, you just sit and check your school email. In the weekly scheduling, you see that the recess duty that you typically had with Mrs. Benning from sixth grade, was now with Melissa for the entire week.

Your eyebrows jump slightly at the find, before you have to fight an eye roll at Ava’s obvious meddling. Seeing this, Melissa speaks up, “something interesting?”

“No, no,” you barely get out at a normal cadence, “just switches in the schedule, wasn’t expecting it.”

She nods slowly, “are you… not okay with that?” You try not to pout at the insecurity that bleeds just the smallest amount in her question.

“Of course I’m okay with it, no reason not to be,” you hope your genuineness was showing, “just different is all.” A muted smirk crosses her lips before she takes a sip of her coffee to cover her face, you pretend not to notice the move, as well as the butterflies swarming in your stomach. You turn your attention to your phone in your lap.

To AVA ♔ : you’re not slick

From AVA ♔ : good thing i wasn’t trying to be

From AVA ♔ : get up in that cannoli

To AVA ♔ : speaking privileges revoked until further notice

You try to not think about the prospect of an extra half hour with Melissa today, and for the rest of the week, but the thought of her crosses your mind and brings a smile to your face. When you are walking your kids back from music, you selfishly take the extra second you’re in the hall to glance towards Melissa’s classroom. Cursive letters on the board in her loopy handwriting being narrated by her expressive face and fast-moving hands. Another grin crosses your lips before you spin on your heel back to your room.

As lunch rolls around, there’s a giddy feeling in your chest that grows with every passing second. Was she even going to talk to you? Maybe not, but time with Melissa is time with Melissa. Just when you’re sliding your gloves on, there’s a tap at your door. Red hair tucked under an Eagles hat and thick black jacket, she’s never been more beautiful.

Winter at Abbott meant beautifully crafted snowmen that had just a touch of dirt on it, but the kids just decided it was freckles. Most of them were working together on their snowmen, while others were trying to see how long they could hang upside down on the monkey bars in their snow clothes. Melissa, after five minutes of churning the idea over in her mind, moves closer to you, the nylon of your jackets making a fssh sound as they brush together gently. The red on her cheeks was likely from the cold, but the darker shade that blossoms at you smiling and turning to her, that’s all you.

The silence between you is easy, for once it doesn’t make Melissa skeptical. It’s comforting, no nervous rambling or awkward attempts to fill the silence, just peaceful silence as your shoulder moves closer to hers.

Tuesday is just the same, with Melissa coming to your classroom to pick you up for recess duty. Wednesday you meet her in your doorway. The peaceful silence is broken when you check your phone to see copious texts in the teacher group chat, most of which are Janine and Jacob and only two are Gregory. All you let out is a little hum.

“What’s going on?” Melissa asks from beside you, her eyes staying on Marcus attempting to climb on top of the monkey bars.

“Groupchat’s going crazy. Janine and Jacob want a ‘teacher’s night out plus Ava,’ and they’re asking if everyone’s good to go next Friday at seven,” your tone suggests a bit of disinterest, but if Melissa goes, you could be easily persuaded.

Her brows scrunch for only a half second before asking, “what bar?”

“The Penman’s Alcove? Guess Jacob suggested it,” you say after scrolling through the nearly forty messages.

“Sounds like Jacob suggested it,” she says with a sputtered laugh. To her delight, you chuckle from beside her, and she brings her full attention to you, “you going?”

You bite your inner lip and flick your eyes to the side, “maybe. Are you?”

“Maybe.”

—☽—

Ava, who always demands you pick her up when you go out, insists on driving to the bar. When she gets to your apartment and does a once over of your jeans and loose-fitting sweater, she gives you a face of disapproval.

“That is not club attire. What ladies are you going to pick up if you’re dressed like a grandma?”

You roll your eyes as you move to let her in, “it’s not a club, it’s a bar. That Jacob picked out. And I’m not trying to ‘pick up’ ladies?”

“Aw, you’re already committed to Schemmenti. Cute,” her laugh at her own comment is cut off by the pillow you whip at her head, another ready if she pipes up again, “no need to get violent, I’ll stop.”

Her only reply is a huff as you grab your boots and shove in your fluffy-socked feet. Ava rises off the couch, leaving the pillow-turned-missile behind. When she’d asked you earlier in the day if ‘your woman’ was coming to the bar, you’d only shrugged, but with a quick text to Barbara, Ava knew the redhead would be there.

Barbara and Ava had made a pact, that despite their differing reasons for not wanting to go, would only attend the outing to insure that you and Melissa would both go as well. It had taken some convincing on Melissa’s end, but the moment her best friend said your name, her tune changed. She agreed to go as long as she drove herself there, so that when she wanted to inevitably leave early, she could.

As Ava pulls into the parking lot of the bar, neither of you hold back the rolling of your eyes. It was very Jacob. You share a look with your best friend, silently asking what did we agree to?

The Penman’s Alcove is tiny, shoved into one of the smallest brick buildings either of you had ever seen. One window was completely blocked off by a decorative book display, the other gave view to the wooden bar top and wooden support beam that was turned into a cylindrical bookcase with lights weaving around it. What is lacking in space, it clearly made up for in atmosphere.

“You both came!” Jacob’s voice echoes from the door to where you and Ava stand as you evaluate the building. You immediately elbow Ava to stop the joke that you could feel on the tip of her tongue.

“Said I would, didn’t I?” you asked as you got closer, appreciating how Jacob switched his arms from the instinctive hug he wanted to give to giving you a gentle pat on the shoulder. “Anyone else here yet?”

“Well, Janine, Gregory, me, duh, Barbara, and Melissa just got here, so,” his voice becomes a little sheepish, “you’re the last ones here.”

“Fashionably late,” you and Ava say at the same time, though your tone is more flat since you only said it because you knew she would.

Walking into the bar, the small space didn’t feel bigger, just smaller as you realized just how many shelves of countless books there were. The twenty person capacity limit was starting to make sense as you quickly side stepped around other people to keep up with Jacob. Everyone comes into view, but as green eyes meet yours, cameo light surrounds her and she’s all you can see. The stutter in your step is noticed by no one but Ava, who subtly grabs your arm to pull you closer to everyone, closer to Melissa.

Greetings and small talk fill the space, but all of it is background noise. When Janine finally releases you from her energetic retelling of the four hours it’s been since she last saw you, your attention is finally able to rest on the woman who it had been dying to be on. Melissa sees your eyes flick around until they find her, and she curses how her heart flutters at the way you move towards her in an instant.

Leaning your arms on the bartop, you lean over slightly to order a rum and coke before turning entirely towards the redhead. Even though it had been barely four hours since you’d seen her, you felt yourself missing her. Her eyes, her hair, her laugh, especially the one she barks out when she can’t control herself and laughs suddenly. Something in the navy shirt she wore instead of her bright greens and pinks told you she wanted to fit into the environment, like she didn’t want anyone to see her in such a… Jacob place. Her attempt to keep attention away, yet for you it was impossible not to be drawn to her.

Just like every other time you saw her, your eyes quickly dipped to her neck, a tiny smile passing your lips at her Saint Dominic pendant she had received from her Nana before she’d passed. When you met her eyes, the small smile on your lips grew, and hers did to match.

“Thought you’d never show up,” Melissa says playfully, but with a quiet tone, her words only for you.

“Surprised you even showed,” you mimicked her tone.

Melissa weighs her options before replying, “Barbara told me I should, told me I can count it as my good act of the year.” She relishes in your silent laugh, little puffed breaths leaving you as you turn your face away from her just for a moment to hide. Melissa had realized three days into knowing you that this was her favorite thing, this quiet laugh of yours, she knew that when you turned away, it meant it was genuine.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here,” you say with earnest, “if that's any consolation.”

A smile plays on glossy, pink lips, “I’m glad I’m here, too.”

Two drinks later, and you found yourself meandering through the shelves of books, naturally being drawn to the fantasy section that was oddly close to the classics you also enjoyed. The small bar had reached capacity only a half hour after you’d arrived, and the bustling conversation was starting to pierce your eardrums. The cushions on the floor had become your new seat, in this almost-quiet corner.

The light vibrations of footsteps approaching brings your mind out of the dragon story you were falling into. Your eyes look up to see red hair contrasting against the shadows from the shelves. Melissa lowers herself carefully onto the cushion beside you, taking utmost care in not getting too far into your space. Her finger pokes the book in your hands, pushing it closer to you to read the cover, only a low hum leaving her throat.

She bumps her knee with yours, a silent you alright? She’s seen you get overwhelmed at assemblies and work parties before, often keeping an eye on you as you stuck to a corner, too polite to leave the room. You bump her knee back, a little smile on your lips, a quiet I’m okay. Melissa plays with the creases in her jeans as she tries to think of what to say, but you beat her to it.

“You know what’s fucked? You can’t even check out the books here,” you state with exasperation. “What’s the point of having all these books if you can only read them if you come here?”

Melissa warms with affection at your word, “No one would bring them back, hon.”

“I would,” you mumble with an incredulous tone in your voice, “but no, not even a checkout fee or, I don’t know, collateral.”

“Collateral!” Melissa laughs out. “Gonna hand over your watch to hold onto until you bring the book back?”

“I’d give them my car for those early editions of Mary Shelley’s work,” you half-joke as you nod towards the faded green and blue books. You look at Melissa for a moment, reading her face quickly before leaning into her space, “don’t even suggest stealing them.”

“Would they even notice?”

“These IPA-enjoyers? Definitely, unfortunately.”

Melissa never cared much for the classics, especially not the ones assigned to her in school. She preferred the historical fiction and true crime novels her grandfather introduced her to, but there was something intriguing about the ones you were showing her. There is peace in the way your fingers trace over the pages, a sort of reverence in how you hold each book. Sylvia Plath and Emily Brontë, Greek tragedies and comedies, they never sounded this interesting as they did when they came from your lips.

The world outside of this hidden corner continues to disappear around the two of you, the prying eyes peeking around the corner are completely lost on the two of you. Your eyes on the books, Melissa’s eyes on you. Ava and Barbara’s eyes, on the other hand, were flicking between the two of you before finding each other's eyes. A shared nod began the next step in their plan.

Ava, in a highly out of character fashion, quietly left the bar without saying anything to anyone, and drove off towards Iggy’s apartment. Barbara, pretending not to notice, went back to her conversation with Gregory regarding what he plans on growing in the garden for springtime. It’s Janine who notices Ava’s lacking presence, she peeks out into the parking lot, and sure enough, the silver car you’d arrived in was gone.

In a child-like fashion, Janine tugs on Barbara’s sleeve to gain her attention, “Ava’s gone.”

“What?” Barbara responds with faux surprise.

“Ava, she left. Like, gone. Not here,” without having to ask Barbara to be the one to tell you, Janine was definitely hinting at not being the one to say your best friend ditched you here.

The kindergarten teacher follows the maze of shelves, steps quickening as she gets closer to hushed voices in the furthest corner. In your own little, say you and Melissa, her legs stretched out as she leaned back against her hands while you sat close to her in criss-cross. There are two piles of older books in front of you, ones you had already shown her and the ones you were going to, and Melissa seemed completely unbothered by the infodumping you laid upon her.

Barbara politely clears her throat to make you aware of her presence, watching you nearly jumping away from Melissa as you realize the closeness between you. Pretending not to notice she speaks carefully, “dear, I just wanted to tell you that Ava left a couple of minutes ago.”

The nerves you felt dissipate, annoyance and a small anger taking its place, “what do you mean? She fully just left? Did she even say anything?”

“No, she must’ve snuck out. Janine noticed before the rest of us that she’d taken off,” Barbara is impressed by her own ability to fib so easily.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, keeping yourself from exploding. You rise from your spot next to the redhead, who is quick to follow in your stride, and grab your phone to call you friend. Speedily stepping through the shelves, you step outside as you press Ava’s contact.

She picks up on the second ring, which only pisses you off further, “what’s up, boo?”

“Where the fuck are you? You did not just seriously ditch me,” you waste no time.

“That little library was not the vibe. Plus, you were too busy nerding it up with Red,” she jokes, almost mockingly.

“You were my ride, Ava,” you sigh, “this isn’t cool, especially when I’m going to have to ask Janine to drive me home since she carpooled with Jacob and Gregory.”

“I know who you can ask for a ride,” the laugh she speaks through only hammers home your aggravation, “maybe she’ll give you more than one.”

A hard groan escapes your throat, “you owe me big time, asshole.”

“Yeah, yeah. Thank me later,” she hangs up on you before you can respond, the beeping tone of the disconnection feels more mocking than your friend straight up laughing in your ear.

When you step back inside, your brows are furrowed, deep creases on your forehead as you practically steam with anger. Never before would Janine, Gregory, or Jacob say they were intimidated by you, but right now, they can’t deny that you are almost as frightening as Melissa’s angry walk. Barbara looks at Melissa pointedly, motioning with her head towards you to tell her to talk to you.

The redhead is already in motion, immediately in front of you, “what did she say?”

Sarcasm and irritation drop from your voice, “the ‘library’ wasn’t ‘her vibe,’ so she’s apparently ditching me to ride home with Gregory and the Chipmunks.”

She doesn’t want to laugh at your predicament, but she can’t help it. Her hand rises to rub your arm reassuringly, “I’ll drive you home.”

“You don’t ha-”

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to. Let me get you home,” the gentleness in her voice makes the icy anger in you melt into a puddle, the hand on your arm was grounding.

“Okay,” your voice just above a whisper in the space between you.

“Okay,” her tone matching yours as she smiles.

Melissa’s car is warm, her presence beside you warmer. With only a couple blocks left before you reach your apartment, you find yourself wishing you knew how to slow, or even stop, time. Would inviting her upstairs seem forward? Is asking her if she wants coffee better? No, stupid, who wants coffee at ten at night? All you need is to be around her.

When her car parks in the lot of your building, neither of you move, not you to get out or her to tell you to. You turn your face towards her, resting your chin on your shoulder, peering through your lashes at her. She matches your position, looking back at you with a little grin.

“Thank you for listening to me,” your voice is quiet and insecure.

Melissa leans a little closer, “thank you for letting me.”

“I’ll see you Monday?” You don’t want to leave, but despite it being Friday, it has also been a school day. You’re tired, and you can see in her slightly droopy eyes that she is too.

“Bright and early,” she answers, eyes flicking to your lips shortly in a way you wish you hadn’t seen. She makes it impossible to want to leave.

Melissa stays in her parking spot until you disappear into the building, not before you glance once more at her and wave shyly. Her head rests against the steering wheel as she struggles to compose herself, before pulling out on the street.

You both fall asleep that night to dreams about the secret corner you’d found yourselves in, books stacked around while your eyes stayed on each other.

—☽—

There’s a certain pep in your step come Monday morning, but a small amount of dread knowing you’ll have to face Ava later. She knew better to keep her distance over the weekend, but though your annoyance with her was fading, it was definitely there. You push into the lounge, immediately gravitating towards the coffeemaker.

You enjoy the hum of the TV, Jim Gardener’s voice coming from the speakers as you focus on Melissa in your periphery. Clicking steps in the hallway stiffen your back, all eyes in the room shifting to you as your best friend, boss, and ditcher enters. The cocky smile on her face falls when you stand and leave the room without a word.

“Seriously? Still mad?” Ava asks with such a genuine tone that Gregory’s head drops into his hands.

Melissa speaks before Ava can even blink, feeling like she had to defend you after seeing how upset you’d been, “so selfish you couldn’t even give a heads up? Some best friend you are, ditching them.” Ava only responds by raising her hands in defeat, giving up on an argument with Melissa before it starts.

“You checking on that one or should I?” Mr. Johnson asks from the doorway where he’s collecting the trash, his eyes set on Melissa. His answer is just the second grade teacher pointing at herself in question, surprised that he would’ve thought of her to check on you. His face screws up, “duh? Who else?”

She listens. When Melissa reaches your classroom, quickly carried by fast and angry steps, she sees you at your whiteboard, writing the agenda and date on it. The unusually harsh strokes of your writing show her exactly what mood she’s walking into. She almost jumps when she knocks on the door and your head whips her way, hard face softening.

“Hey,” you breathe out, going back to writing the afternoon’s schedule.

“Hey. I just wanted to check on you,” she she says as she slides the orange marker down towards you.

“I’m fine, really. I’m mostly just pissed Ava left me like that and thinks it’s hilarious. You’d think I would be used to it by now, but apparently not,” you huff, “just like her mom always says, Ava’s gonna Ava.”

“How long you giving her the silent treatment?”

“Till she actually apologizes and doesn’t just assume it’s all good, it’s the only way. I’m not even that mad about it, if she wanted to leave she could’ve just said,” you shift your weight from foot to foot, “it’s the principle of it.”

Melissa glances over your face, grateful you don’t seem to notice, and she realizes it's less anger, more disappointment. It’s so starkly different from the smile that played on your lips and the gleam in your eyes just the other night. She so badly wants that back, she craves your smile.

It took three days for Ava to finally apologize, and she only does when she comes over to your apartment, no interest in letting the other hear her grovel. She hadn’t meant to make you upset, she was just trying to get you and Melissa alone, and so far, her efforts seemed to be working. She was diligent to not let out that it was a joint plan between her and Barbara, and that Melissa was getting played just as much as you.

—☽—

A snow storm Thursday night almost takes out your power, and the chill seeps through the brick walls, forcing you to bed early in a bundle of blankets. You wake up to your phone ringing at five in the morning, only a half hour before your alarm was to go off. Seeing Ava’s contact worried you immediately.

“What?” you say through a yawn, “are you okay?”

“Aw, you love me,” she jokes through her own large yawn.

“I do. Now, what do you want?”

“It’s a snow day, bitch. The roads aren’t too bad, but apparently the buses are fucked.”

You sigh with contentment, “snow day means I’m going back to bed.”

“Okay, lazy. I’ll see you tomorrow for wine night?”

You can barely answer through another yawn, “yeah, yeah. I’ll be there.”

It’s not until ten that you wake up again, sunlight reflecting off the fresh snow and making your room too bright to stay asleep any longer. The air in the room is too cold for your taste, leaving you to wrap your throw blanket around yourself as you trudge out to your kitchen for the promise of warm coffee. As coffee drips into the pot, the star-printed throw is replaced by your favorite grey sweatshirt, the faded university logo still maintaining a touch of the maroon and silver it once was.

The second cup of coffee tastes of cinnamon and cream, the warmth keeping your hands from stiffening under the cold of your building. No matter how much you turned up the heat, the draft made it obsolete. As you pour a third cup, clinging to the warmth it gave, you feel your phone buzz in your Abbott sweatpants.

From Melissa: How busy are you today?

To Melissa: on a snow day? not at all. why?

From Melissa: I’ve got a surprise for you.

To Melissa: should i be worried?

From Melissa: Do you trust me?

To Melissa: you know i do

When she doesn’t answer, anticipation starts to take hold. It hits you as you nervously sip your coffee, you’re still in your pajamas and Melissa is coming. You tumble down to your room, switching the sweatpants for an old pair of jeans, the faded sweatshirt for a thick black sweater, fluffy socks into slippers. Part of you grapples if you should make coffee for the both of you, the other part tells you a fourth cup may give you a heart attack upon seeing Melissa, your heart would never be able to take it.

A quiet ping from your phone alerts you that Melissa is down in the lot as she waits for you. You don’t even take a moment to answer, just quickly throwing on your denim jacket before hurrying down the steps to the bottom floor. Peeking your head out, you see the only car with lights on, the familiar black car making you smile. The snow had slowed overnight, wisps still quickly sticking to your hair and clothes.

Melissa doesn’t notice your approach, not until you tap on her frosted window with your knuckles, making her jump. She was lost in her mind, thinking about how bad of an idea it was, startling quickly at your tap, but quickly soothed by your smile and little wave. Melissa steps out of the car, leaning against it to keep you from peeking in her window and seeing the passenger seat.

“You really shouldn’t’ve driven, what if the roads were nasty?” you say with concern, despite the fact that you couldn’t be happier with her presence.

“They weren’t, I got here just fine,” she says, placating the worry.

You can’t even hide the smile that shows itself, “what sort of surprise was worth the black ice?”

“There was no black ice,” she laughs, shifting under your gaze, “but I hope it’s a surprise you’ll like.” There’s an unusual nervousness in her, one that you can’t help but feel and want to soothe.

“If it’s from you, I definitely will.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Try me,” you cock your head to the side, a sly smirk on your face. Melissa ducks her face, concealing her blush. She opens the door, leaning in to grab the bag from the seat. A deep breath leaves her lungs as she composes herself before facing you. The paper bag is stretched out towards you, green eyes begging you to relieve her of this weight.

You try to be careful, not wanting the gentle snow to touch the contents. Peering up at Melissa, she urges you to open it. You reach in and feel something, a cloth covered board you think, until you feel what you think are pages. A book? No, three.

You pull back your hand, the books coming with it. A faded green cover with black serif text reads Frankenstein, the blue reads The Short-Stories of Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley: A Complete Collection, and the final red one, Mathilda. The books you had fawned over a week ago were now in your hands, the very same you said you’d give your car for. No words form, only thick tears in your eyes that you pray don’t fall. They were the exact same books, the copies from the bar, and now they’re in your hands.

You can only look at the redhead, absolutely bewildered. She gives you a weak smile, having a hard time gauging your reaction and you slide the books back into the bag to protect them. There’s no warning, not verbal or even a glint in your eye, before you fling yourself onto her, wrapping your arms around her neck.

“Thank you, oh my fucking God, thank you, thank you, what the fuck?” your words fall out of your mouth, barely able to contain the delight running through your veins.

Melissa doesn’t answer right away, only wrapping her arms around you and basking in the feeling of you there. You smell like coffee and cinnamon, she wishes she could find out if your lips taste the same. Neither of you move, not wanting to be the one who breaks away first.

After a minute, your face lifts from her neck, but you don’t remove yourself from her arms. She meets your gaze, watching you watch her. Melissa is the most beautiful person you’ll ever meet, you’re sure of it. But right here, right now? She’d never been more so, nothing else compared to the snow stuck to her lashes, the pink of her cheeks from the chilled air, the lack of makeup across her skin allowing you to see all her freckles and the lines around her eyes.

“You got me the books,” it's a simple sentence, but there’s a weight to it that Melissa almost can’t handle.

She smiles so softly it makes you want to cry, “you love them, you wanted them.” The look in your eyes changes, and Melissa seems to notice. She finally speaks up, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing is, at least I hope not,” you answer truthfully.

“Why that look on your face then?” Her lips look so soft, you have to tell her.

You swallow your pride, pursing your lips before telling her the thought that had been on your mind since you met her, “I really want to kiss you.”

It appears she feels the same, Melissa immediately leans into you, lips pressing to yours. You knew they’d be soft, and God were they. Her hands plant themselves on your hips while yours cup her neck, pulling her as close as you possibly can. Spinning suddenly, you find yourself pressed against her car, cold metal freezing you through your layers, but warm lips make the cold feel little. For someone so abrasive, Melissa was so soft, holding you like you were the most precious thing to her. Her tongue licked at your bottom lip, asking for entry. And who are you to deny her?

Her tongue traces yours, a groan comes from deep in your chest that only spurs her on further. She presses impossibly closer to you, hands sliding up to hold you at your ribs, pressing into your jacket in an attempt to get closer. Your blunt nails dig into her neck, not enough to hurt, just to feel more of her. All you’ve wanted since you met her was to be this close, and it felt like an unreachable dream until now.

Her lips pull away, only to be chased by yours. You press gentle, chaste kisses to her lips, and it only becomes more difficult as matching dopey grins grow on your faces. Her hand rises to your cheek, caressing the chilled skin that warms under her touch.

She barely hears your words over her rapidly beating heart, “you’re so pretty.”

“Haven’t seen yourself then, huh?” she jokes, pretending your statement didn’t make her feel like a giggly teenager.

“Funny, but I mean it. You’re so pretty,” your hand shifts around her cup her jaw, “I can’t believe you got those books for me. How?”

She smirks to herself, “I just asked nicely.”

“Nicely? Did you bat your lashes and give them that award-winning smile?” The sarcasm that should have been there sounds more like adoration, the lazy smile on your lips making them look even more kissable than they’d been before.

“Exactly, they just handed them right over,” she feels like a pile of mush with you looking at her like this.

The hand on her jaw pulls her in closer, “they’d be stupid not to.” There’s no chance to reply, just your lips pressing to hers again. It feels as easy as breathing with you, like she was supposed to be doing this the whole time. When you pull away, it’s just barely, a silent request in the way you stroke her cheek.

Reluctantly, she pulls away from you to take her keys out of the ignition and grabs her purse from the floor of the car. An arm wraps around hers as you lead her towards the door to your building, the other tightly holds the books against your chest. It was too soon to say it, but you knew that right here, right now, you were utterly in love with Melissa Schemmenti. The woman who probably threatened the employees at the Penman’s Alcove for the books when they said she couldn’t buy them, the one who listened for two hours as you spoke about authors and books she’d never cared about before.

She cared now. She cared because you did.

Melissa knew the moment you saw the books, that she would do whatever it takes to see that wonder on your face again. She thinks to herself that endeavor would be a good way to spend the rest of her life.

title is from a quote from mary shelley’s frankenstein: “you are still, as you ever were, beyond beautiful expression.”

i chose the st. dominic for mel’s pendant bc hes typically worn by educators

feedback appreciated as always <3

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary #lgbtq fanfiction #lesbian #lgbtq

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darkbluekies · 11 months

Note

How would the yans react if their darling is already dating someone else

Warnings: killing, kidnapping

Silas:

He hates to see you laugh and smile with someone who isn’t him. He knows he shouldn’t approach you. You’re so … pure, so normal … and he’s a beast lurking in the darkness. He knows that the second he approaches you, you’ll be sucked into his world and there won’t be a way out. But he cannot bare himself to watch you cling onto someone that isn’t him. Silas sighs. He could actually keep you safe if he really tried. If he doesn’t take you to be his, he will regret it for all eternity. He turns to his second in command.

“See that person over there? The one leaning onto the one in gray? I want them. And I want the one in gray gone. Why? Personal reasons. Make sure that cute, little thing is in my basement by the end of the night, got it? Thank you.”

Dr Kry:

His heart breaks when someone else tries to visit you at the hospital. It’s always the same person. He doesn’t dare to ask you about who it is, scared to hear the truth. Of course, he knows that it’s your significant other, but he doesn’t want to have it confirmed. A small part of him still hopes that it’s just a family member. Nonetheless, he has to get rid of them before you start to ask about them. Dr Kry pulls the threat into a supply closed, pressing a drenched cloth against the persons face.

“Don’t take it personal, this is just for selfish reasons. It actually doesn’t have anything to do with you, just who you’re with. Y/N isn’t yours anymore and I’ve given you more than second chances to make you realize that … but here we are. Just go to sleep, breathe in. It’ll all be over soon.”

King Edmund:

He isn’t worried. He’s the king! Who can’t decline a king a favor? He doesn’t have to be worried about whoever has stolen your heart. Worst case scenario, he’ll rip you open and give you a new heart that only belongs to him. It can’t be so difficult, there are hundreds — if not thousands — of women who want him. If only you got to have one of their hearts …

“My good sir, I want to make a deal with you. You stay away from Y/N and I send you a portion of money every month to make sure you and your family can live comfortably. I know how hard you have it on your farm. All you need to do is to give me Y/N. Not hard, right? You’re winning. I’m taking her off your hands. You could never provide for her. If you refuse? How funny that you asked that … if you refuse, your entire bloodline will die.”

Jerry:

Jerry hates being jealous, hates that someone can make her that insane. She hates the power you have over her, especially when you’re not doing anything. The person who leans on your shoulder makes her sick. She can’t watch any longer. She has to have you. Now. She storms over with her men behind her. They grab your partner, pulling them away and Jerry traps you in a corner. You trembling in front of her sends tingles down her body. She reaches out her hand, brushing your hair out of your face.

“Don’t tremble, my love. You’re mine now. You’re with the wrong person. You might not understand it now, but I can assure you that you’re meant to be with me — be my little accessory. Don’t cry, I’m not going to hurt you for this. You had no idea. My pretty, little pet, you have no idea what kind of trouble you're pretty face has got you in …”

Hedwig:

She has been the best friend you could ever have. She has been by your side from the day you transferred … why didn’t you choose her to be your girlfriend? Hasn’t she been everything to you? Hedwig can feel a gaping hole in her heart when she sees you eating with someone else at lunch. She has to stay home. She can’t watch you be with someone else. All she does is cry in her bed. She doesn’t eat, doesn’t move, doesn’t bathe. A living zombie is what she’s become. One day, you come over to check up on her and she knows she has to take the chance.

“Y/N, you can’t do this to me! You have to break up with that … that bitch! P-Please! You have to be mine! I have to have you! I’m so lost without you! I can’t function without you! If … if you’re not going to leave them … I have to keep you here with me. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere oc x you #yandere mafia #yandere doctor #female yandere #yandere rich girl #yandere reactions #yandere asks #yandere ocs x reader #yandere ocs #yandere oc x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n #male yandere #king yandere

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cultofdixon · 5 months

Text

Everything’s going to be okay. It has to

Daryl Dixon [PLATONIC] • She/Her Pronouns • An overprotective dad trying to calm his adoptive daughter after some asshole (that met his end) decided to shoot • ANGST/SFW • TW: Gunshot wound / Anxiety Attacks / Blood loss

Requested by: Anon

“Daryl, enough!” Rick tried to cut through another physical argument the archer was having with another Savior.

But unlike the other fights he’s had, this asshole had a gun on him. The second he aimed it, Daryl stepped back along with Rick whose words didn’t reach the Savior and all the archer thought of was his daughter.

“I had enough of this son of a bitch“

“Don’t shoot your weapon!” Rick yells as Daryl stood frozen thinking over a thousand times who the hell was going to take Y/N into their care when he’s gone. “We can simply talk about—-“

“Enough talking” But when he fired, Rosita knocked into the guy so the bullet wouldn’t land in her family.

Though as the gunshot rang through

And the silence grew

All that was heard was her screaming

“Daddy!” Y/N shouts off the top of her lungs in agony as Daryl instantly snapped in the direction of her screaming before running toward her.

The bullet hit his daughter.

While Rosita took care of restraining the man, Rick quickly ran over to his brother who was picking up his screaming child noticing all the blood that was getting on him.

“Get in the car, I’ll drive” Rick yells in order to reach Daryl’s mind knowing all he sees is red and the sound around him is muted. But he heard and did exactly that while the retired sheriff whistled for Enid’s attention. “Radio Siddiq to get ready for a gunshot wound at Alexandria! We’re coming from the Sanctuary!”

Rick opened the door for Daryl to get in the backseat holding Y/N as her good hand gripped onto his shirt while the other one shook from the bullet wound being in her bicep. He shut the door once they were in and quickly got in the drivers, practically speeding through the loading dock of the Sanctuary making his way to Alexandria.

When they got close, Rick hard pressed on the horn not caring if he was to crash through the gates but thankfully Michonne and Eugene were at the gates pushing it open the second they heard the horn. Michonne ran after the car once it came through as Eugene took care of closing the gates himself.

“What happened?” Michonne frowns watching Rick step out and open the door for Daryl. “Oh my god. Who fired?!”

“A FUCKING SAVIOR” Daryl snaps carrying Y/N into the infirmary where Siddiq was ready with the help of Aaron who heard the news when helping the doc with stocking up on the past run findings.

“I’ve got everything we’ll need but I don’t have anything to lessen the pain that isn’t orally given”

“So—-?!”

“She’s going to feel everything Daryl” Aaron states watching his face fall further as he turns to his daughter on the gurney struggling to keep still and brushing off the oxygen mask that Siddiq had placed on her to help her breathing.

“Pumpkin, you gotta keep it on” Daryl’s voice cracked when speaking to his little one because the sight was starting to become a permanent imagine in his mind. “Just take deep breathes, okay?” He frowns taking the mask and keeping it in place while Aaron held her legs down to keep her from kicking as Siddiq started to clean the wound to stop the bleeding.

It wasn’t a through gunshot wound. Siddiq had to remove it and wash it out while also stopping the bleeding.

It was a lot for a kid…

“You’re doing great” Daryl reassures Y/N as she curled up slightly when Aaron held her arm and Siddiq continues to work on the stitches. “You’re gonna be fine”

The tears started to burn making her jolt a bit when Siddiq was putting in another stitch, resulting in Daryl carefully pinning her and the stitch Siddiq had just done needing to be cut out and redone.

“C’mon pumpkin, just breathe and focus on me alright?” Daryl reassures continuing to hold the mask for her and taking a deep breath himself watching her mimic him. “Good job, you’re doing a good job”

“Just a few more stitches, Y/N then you’re all done” Aaron reassures as Siddiq went to get another kit.

“Daddy…”

“Yeah?” Daryl gently brushes the hair out of her face watching more tears form. “What’s wrong sweetheart?”

“D-Do we have to go back there?” Her cry was more of a whine followed by more sobbing at the thought of having to go back to the Sanctuary. They both have their own issue with the place

“No. We ain’t ever going back there”

“Daryl what about Rick’s—-“

“I ain’t ditching my kid here to watch that fucking shithole for somebody that made a mistake not burning it to the ground” Daryl snaps and quickly collected himself for his daughter who grabbed his hand when he yelled to squeeze it for herself and for him. “I’m sorry pumpkin. I’m sorry for yelling…”

“Let’s focus on this and the whole Sanctuary thing can be discussed once she’s healed, alright?” Siddiq states before going back to work to finishing up the stitches.

Finally the stitches were done and the wound was cleaned up along with a heavy bandage on it. Aaron had Daryl pick up Y/N so that he can remove the bloodied sheets and put a clean one along with a blanket.

“She should sleep here for tonight” Siddiq says as he cleans up all the gauze and instruments so that Y/N can lay down comfortably. “Just in case of anything because I live upstairs”

“A-Are you going ho—-“

“I ain’t going anywhere, pumpkin” Daryl reassures. “I just. I have to grab a few—-“

“I’ll take care of it. Tell me what you need. You just stay with your daughter” Aaron states listening to his best friend telling him what he needs to grab.

Once everything was taken care of, Y/N struggled to get comfortable on the bed as she hated sleeping on her back and couldn’t on her side because of her arm. The pain was also extreme even with some pain killers in her system. Daryl’s heart shattered when he tried to help her get into pjs because she would scream every time her arm was irritated.

Siddiq had made a bed for Daryl to stay with his daughter but the way she hasn’t stopped crying and the pain was that unbearable. He knew he was going to hold her and that would help just a little.

“C’mere pumpkin, I’ve gotcha” Daryl says softly while picking up Y/N carefully before bringing himself into the bed letting her lay on him as she already got herself comfortable hiding her face in his chest. She continued to sob but it lessened when her dad rubbed soothing circles on her back. “Shhh…I’m here, you’re okay”

“Daddy…”

“Yes pumpkin?”

“You won’t ever leave me right…?” Y/N pouts pulling her face away from his chest as Daryl instantly kisses her forehead holding her protectively.

“I ain’t going anywhere. I’m always gonna be here for you”

The next morning came and Siddiq came down to check on the Dixon child but to his surprise and thankfully, Y/N was fast asleep after a rough night. But also her dad holding her was sound asleep. He quietly approaches the two and covers them in a blanket before leaving them to catch up on much needed sleep…

Safe and sound

#cultofdixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction

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lightwing-s · 5 months

Note

15 and 18 with Jason?

It was one of those rare nights when the Red Hood didn’t come out, and in his place, boyfriend!Jason would take over.

Tonight, he had planned a whole date at a fancy restaurant, much to your surprise, as you rarely went on those, preferring much more a chill family thing to an over expensive, overcrowded and overrated four to five stars option.

Dressed to the nines, Jason almost gave up his plan entirely when you opened your apartment door to greet him, the high slit on the skirt of your black chiffon an invitation to dirtier, unholy thoughts. He kissed the back of your hand, treating you like a proper lady. Opening doors and holding them until you passed, helping you down the stairs, and overall being the perfect gentlemen.

Until traffic decided to ruin everything.

A once in a lifetime thing, Jason chose car over bike, and now you sat on the road, nearing the second hour in a dragged out traffic jam. Tapping the steering wheel incessantly, your boyfriend checked his designer watch, an accessory you’d never seen him wear before, for what seemed to be the hundredth time.

“... in Gotham City, home to rich history, an exciting art scene, excellent education…” chimed the lady on the radio.

“Oh yeah. Nothing to complain here.” your boyfriend mumbled, the gold ring on his pinky finger becoming a stress relief toy between his teeth.

“Oh, babe,” you sang, taking his other hand and intertwining your fingers. “Don’t worry about it, we can still have fun.”

“But I-I had this all planned out, for months. This restaurant has this really long waiting list and I’ve been trying to get reserv…”

You cut his frustrated rambling, placing a chaste kiss on his plump pouty lips. Opening your eyes slowly, you met his, eyebrows low in a clear look of apology. “Don’t worry about it, Jay.”

After a long sigh, a smile finally returned to his face, a bit forced, the anger at the universe for ruining your date not gone from his head, but anything to make you happy.

“What about we just order pizza and eat in the car?” you offered, getting him grinning in amusement. “What? It’s a great idea.”

“I’m not saying anything.” he threw his hand up in defense. “A motorcycle would’ve clearly made it to that restaurant in less than an hour.”

Slapping his shoulder at his complaint, you giggle at his pouty self, kissing all over his face to make him feel better.

“Move on, you son of a bitch!” a man screamed from outside, followed by a honk and another curse, your heads turning to the side to catch the source of such foul words.

“Someone is impatient.” Jason stated, earning from you a raised eyebrow at his hypocrisy.

Continuous honking and swearing cursed the next couple of minutes in that car, causing both you and Jason to lose your patience. But it was one curse, one rotten, mean spirited sentence, that had your blood boiling, hand flying to open the car door and slap some sense into this man.

"Mark my words, this will not end cute." You said, one leg already halfway out the door.

In a quick, solid movement, one only a well trained vigilante could perform, Jason pulled you back in, closing the door on the way, the sound of lock swiftly following along. Seeing your angry face, he let off a laugh, holding your face between his hands and filling your face with kisses.

“Look who’s the grumpy one now.” he laughed, pinching your cheeks.

“He’s the one who’s being an asshole.” you complained, crossed your arms on your chest, something that only amused Jason even more, another breathy laugh slipping out of him.

“You're so cute.” he cooed, pecking the tip of your nose.

Fumbling around with his suit pocket, he takes out his phone, handing it to you still locked. “Here, call the pizza place. We ain’t leaving here any time soon.”

#jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd blurb #jason todd #jason todd x you #jason todd fluff

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thecuriousquest · 6 months

Text

You’re Pissing Me Off

Tag List: @issamomma @repostingmyfavs @chickennugnugnug @palesweetscherryblossom

Warnings: Yandere themes, NSFW, oral sex, implied kidnapping, hair pulling, rough manhandling, piss kink, crying kink, degradation, nudity, forced cold shower, Dabi has cock piercings

***I’m going on a posting spree to clear out my drafts.***

This totally doesn’t have anything to do with the poll from a while back. 🫠

Master List

—————————————————————————

You wake up to a tongue lapping at your puffy clit. The night before was rough with Dabi. He edged you for hours until he finally let you come, but he didn’t stop there. No, he made you come over and over again until you were so fucked out that you forgot you were his captive.

You try to sit up, whimpering, attempting to close your thighs.

He nips your bud as a warning to settle down, but you don’t heed the message. It’s too damn early, and you’re still so sore!

“Dabi, no! I don’t wanna!”

You try to smack and push at his mess of black hair. Fuck, he’s being really stubborn.

Finally, he looks up at you. “What, you too sore? Quit being such a cry baby about it. Let good ol’ Dabi take care of ya.”

His smirk is wicked, and you try to squirm away from him even more. You hear an annoyed sigh, but it doesn’t prevent you from trying to free yourself of his grip on your thighs, the ones heating up, getting hotter and hotter by the second.

You scream and jerk so hard that you manage to grant yourself a bit of wriggle room, and you fall off of the bed. Dabi looks down at you and laughs at you.

Scrambling to your bare feet, you take off, running for the door. The hallway is long, but you see the stairs right at the end of it leading up to somewhere. You make a mad dash for the steps, but Dabi is tall, meaning he’s faster than you. He catches up to you quickly, closing the distance before you can even reach the third step.

He grabs you by your hair, pulling you into him. His lips plush against your neck, his cock right against your back, an arm around your hips, the other around your chest. He secures you tightly against him.

“I bet you didn’t know I love a good chase.” He bites your ear, hard.

Your gasp turns into a short scream of pain as he drags you back to his room. Slamming the door shut, he takes you into the adjacent bathroom, pushing you into the bathtub.

“You know you can’t run from me. You’re not that dumb, right? Who am I kidding. All that runs through that tiny brain of yours is cock. That’s all you want, just to be bent over and fucked like the bitch that you are.”

Dabi pulls his cock free of his pants. “I tried to do something nice for you this morning. Make you feel good. You just had to spit it right back in my face though. Fucking ruin everything. Don’t worry, I’ve got another surprise here for you.”

Dabi leans over the tub, placing a hand on the shower wall right at his eye level. He aims his pierced cock at you. It leers at you, hauntingly. You can still feel it pushing against your cervix, making a little bulge in your tummy from last night.

A hot stream of liquid hits your face, and you throw your hands up to cover yourself. Shocked at first, you open your mouth to yell. Droplets land in your mouth, and you quickly clamp your lips shut, trying instead to breathe out of your nose. The stench is pungent and fucking bitter!

His piss lands all over you, saturating your hair, stinging your eyes even though they’re closed. You’re entire body, naked, becomes sticky and damp with the yellow bodily fluid. It’s hot running down your skin, droplets of piss clinging to your nipples. It’s all over you from head to toe.

Once he finishes and shakes the remaining urine off of his dick, he puts his flaccid length back into his pants. You hear the zipper, watch the button go back into place.

Shaking with hatred for him, crying because you’re covered in his disgusting piss, you look up at him as you try and swipe what’s clinging to your lashes away with the back of your wrists.

“Why the fuck did you do that?!”

He shrugs and shoves his foot in your face, knocking you off balance so that he can watch you fall. You hit the bottom of the bathtub roughly from your crouched position, hissing as you splash against his urine.

“I don’t really have to explain anything to you. All you have to do is sit there and take whatever I give. You got that? It’s all you’re fucking useful for now. It’s your only purpose. You just take it like a good little whore, and we won’t have any problems.”

“Can I just take a shower?” You’re so uncomfortable, and you’re beginning to feel cold with how wet you are.

Dabi shoves his hands into his pockets, stretching his burnt skin as he smiles down at you. “Why don’t you beg me for it?”

“What? Dabi, come on, just let me shower.”

“Get on your knees and beg if you wanna shower so badly.”

You have no other choice. You internally grumble a thousand curses at him as you push yourself up onto your knees. Kneeling before him in the bathtub, you look up at him with pleading eyes, face dripping with sticky yellow beads.

“Please, let me take a shower, Dabi.”

He cocks his head at you. “Come on, doll face. You can do better than that.”

Closing your eyes and sighing away your rage, you attempt another plead. “Please, please, I really need a shower, Dabi. Please, let me take one. I’m so…dirty. I don’t like smelling or feeling like this. Please?”

He turns the faucet on cold and runs the shower, not allowing you any warmth. He stands there with his arms crossed, watching you shake and try to cover yourself with your arms, attempting to retain any amount of heat that you can.

It all washes away, but you’re so frigid that you can barely work the soap over your body or the shampoo and conditioner into your hair.

Dabi undresses from his pants and boxers. He steps into the shower, closing the curtain. He spins you around so that you’re facing him, and the flame thrower holds you closely. Instantly, you begin to warm up when his body presses against yours.

He leans down, whispering into your ear, “Don’t say I never did anything nice for you.”

#yandere #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling #triggering content #triggering themes #yandere themes #boku no hero academia #my hero acedamia #my hero academia #yandere my hero academia #dabi my hero academia #dabi boku no hero academia #dabi smut #yandere dabi #yandere dabi x reader

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rafesgoldrings · 10 months

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lust for life💋: omggg i’m kind of so excited for this soooo i’m thinking bestfriend!rafe and reader with these prompts:

“say, what’s that on your mind? is it me” (40)

“kiss me” (16)

“where do you want me, darling?” (25)

lastly, “does doing these kinds of things make us friends with benefits?”

congratulations on the 1k baby i’m so proud of youuu! you are such an amazing writer, i’m literally so speechless each and everytime I see your writing! <3

Kiss Me R.C

Babe I love this so much! And thank you🥺 you were one of the first people to consistently pop into my notifs and be so supportive of everything I write so thank you for that, genuinely one of the kindest people i’ve met🫶🏻😚 I adore you (also kind of changing up the wording on one of these prompts just to make it fit a bit better)

Having feelings for someone who you know doesn’t feel the same is hard enough. You have to watch them flirt with other people, watch them go on dates, live their love life with someone who’s not you. When that person is your best friend who you’ve known since childhood, one who you see all the time? It makes it way harder to deal with, he tells you the details of every date, how pretty this girl is, how he really can see a future with her, and you have to put on a supportive front and give him the best advice you can while your heart breaks. That’s exactly what’s happening with you and Rafe, you’ve been in love with him since you were younger.

He started talking to a new girl and had told you all about her, how she made him happy and they had been on a few dates. They planned for more, he really thought they could take this to the next level and start dating. You distance yourself from that point, choosing to find comfort in liquor bottles and rolled up joins. The parties you once hated going to become your new best friend over the next few weeks, Rafe was confused as to why his best friend since childhood seemingly wanted nothing to do with him anymore. Topper and Kelce tell him they’ve seen you at the parties a lot more, drinking more than you can handle and going home with whatever guy you find, and he knows something is wrong. He decides he’s going to confront you when he sees you post on your story, drunk and high off your ass while some guy grabs all over you.

You’re sitting on your couch trying to get over the terrible hangover you had. You took some medicine about an hour ago and it was finally starting to kick in, and then you hear a knock on the door. Your face scrunches in confusion because nobody was supposed to be here, but you get up and walk to the door anyway. Your heart sinks when you see it’s Rafe standing at the door and hesitantly open it.

“Can we talk?” he asks, desperation evident in his voice.

You think for a minute, knowing you need to talk to him and get it out of the way regardless of the outcome. You open your door wider and let him in, closing the door and going to sit on the couch next to him.

“What’s going on with you huh? One minute we’re best friends and the next you’re leaving me high and dry, I have to find out from Top and Kelce that you’re at all these parties getting high and drunk off your ass. You’re hooking up with all these guys and posting about it while ignoring my texts” he’s angry and that makes you angry. He’s allowed to hookup with whoever but you’re not?

“What do you care? You have what’s her fucking name, the new bitch you’re talking to. What does it matter if i’m hooking up with guys? Don’t worry about me.” you glare at him with storms in your eyes, nostrils flaring as your chest rises rapidly.

“I’m always going to worry about you! You’re my best friend a-“

“Stop, stop fucking calling me that. Please just leave” you cut him off, tears threatening to spill. He’s not meaning to, you know that, but he’s crushing your heart with each word.

“Y/N…please. Say what’s on your mind, is it me?” he has a feeling of what’s wrong. If it’s anything like he thinks then he understands. All these girls he’s with are to try and replace you, the girl he’s wanted since he first met you. He thinks there’s no way you’ll want to be with him because you’re just friends, so he keeps quiet and fills the void with girls that will never come close to you.

“I-” now or never, you take a deep breath in “I like you okay? And not just in a best friend way, I want you to talk about me the way you talk about these girls you date. I want you to feel the way about me that I feel about you. I want you to want me the same way I want you. But I know that won’t happen and it’s okay Rafe really, I g-“

“Kiss me” he pleads, eyes staring into yours full of desperation.

“What? What about that girl” you’re confused, clearly you heard him wrong.

“She’s gone, has been for weeks. Now. Kiss. Me” he places his hands on your face and grounds your thoughts.

You waste no time, crashing your lips into his. His hands move from your face to your hips, pulling you to straddle his lap. You mentally smack yourself when you realize you’re only wearing one of his t shirts and some panties, but fuck did it feel good. Instinctually, you begin grinding down agasint him, feeling his cock harden under you, and let out a small whimper. He pulls away to check if you’re okay and mutters out a small ‘fuck’ when he looks at you. Your lips are swollen, eyes black with lust and lids hooded as you whine.

“You’re so fucking beautiful baby” his hand moves to swipe at your cheek one, trailing it down your face and to your neck before gently squeezing.

“Rafe, I want you to fuck me” he almost doesn’t hear you, almost.

“Where do you want me darling?” he rests his forehead against yours, bringing his other hand the the other side of your neck to cradle it.

“My uh, you know” suddenly a wave of embarrassment flooded you. Scared you’d say the wrong thing and he’d leave realizing this was a mistake.

“Say it. Please say it” he was desperate, rolling his lips against your clothes cunt.

“In my pussy. Want you in my pussy” you whimper out, eyes fluttering closed at the friction on your clit.

You hear him mumble something before you’re suddenly being picked up and carried to your bedroom, your back softly colliding with your matters as he hovers over you. He kisses your lips gently, pulling away and just looking at you. Eyes full of lust and love as he moves to pull his top off, you give him the okay and he does the same to you, muttering about how perfect you were when he saw you weren’t wearing a bra. His head dips down to kiss your tits, taking your nipple into his mouth and circling it with his tongue before doing the same to the other.

“Rafe, please just fuck me” you needed him right now, desperate for him to make you his in every way.

He pulled your panties down and removes his pants and boxers, reaching into his pocket and grabbing a condom. He opens the packet before pulling the condom out and rolling it onto his cock, discarding the packet into the floor and lining the tip of his cock up with your dripping hole.

“Are you sure you want this baby?” he wants to make sure before he does this, you nod your head and pull him into a kiss. He pushes into you, going slow to let you adjust to his size. You let out a cry and he stops to check on you.

“I’m okay, you’re just so big. Not u-used to it” you stutter out, nails digging into his biceps. He keeps pushing into you until his cock is fully inside you, dropping his head to the crook of your neck and letting out a loud groan.

“Feel so good around my cock, so fucking tight” he doesn’t make any efforts to move until you give him the go ahead.

“You can move now, make me yours” that seems to flip a switch inside of him, he begins thrusting into you at a pace that’s not quite gentle but also not rough. You cry out in pleasure as tears slip from the corners of your eyes, his hair hanging down and brushing against your face as he keeps himself hovered over you. His strong arms are on both sides of your head, nails gripping onto his back and leaving scratch marks as he slams into you all the way over and over again.

His lips are roaming every inch of your body that they can, small moans filling the room. You feel yourself getting close to climax and pull him into a kiss that turns out more sloppy than you planned. It’s full of passion, years of unsaid feelings finally coming to the surface.

“I-oh fuck- i’m close” you break the kiss, brows scrunched together and head falling back into the mattress as your mouth falls open. The pretty sounds you’re making bring him close to the edge as well, loud grunts and groans escaping his lips as his thrusts become rougher.

“I am too baby, fuck you’re gripping me so tight” the both of you coming undone at the same time, a string of moans and curse words echoing off the walls. Your body arched as his hips faltered in movement, his lips capturing yours as your orgasms washed over you.

When the both of you managed to come down from the rush, he pulls out of you and removes the condom, discarding it in your trash can. He walks to your bathroom and grabs a cloth, wiping you off before doing the same to himself and throwing the rag in your clothes hamper.

You feel the bed dip beside you and his arms wrap around you, pulling your back to his front. Neither of you say anything, just wanting to enjoy the moment.

“So….does doing these kinds of things make us friends with benefits?” you know from his tone that he has that stupid grin on his face that he always did when teasing you. You reach your hand back and smack his head with a small laugh.

“Oh shut up” you hear him mumble a small ‘ow, it was just a question jeez’ and smile to yourself, shaking your head.

“Okay okay, if it doesn’t make us friends with benefits…that must make us boyfriend and girlfriend yeah?” you turn around so you were facing him, he had a small smirk on his face and you had a small grin on yours. Your eyes meet his and he places his forehead against yours.

“I guess it does” his face breaks out in a large smile, pulling you into another kiss. His nose nudges against yours when he pulls away, wrapping his arms around you and holding you against his chest. He finally got his girl, nothing would ever beat what he was feeling right now.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x female reader #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron outer banks #asks <3 #1k celebration

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a-strange-inkling · 6 months

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If it were up to you ( one of the best hellcheer fanfiction writer) what would you fix or change about the fight of Icarus?

Aw shux, that’s high praise! I really don’t think I’m worthy of that, but thank you 🤍

Oh God… what a laundry list 😆 read at your own risk below (I think I’ve finally run out of things to say about this book and will be moving on now 😅)

I’m going to be honest, the best way fo fix it would be to not write a book. Point blank. If I was involved with the show at all I would have NEVER written a book about Eddie in any official capacity. I don’t know if the author was aware of just how unhinged certain parts of his fanbase are (I’m sure she is now) but you’re not going to make anyone happy with this. Eddie’s ridiculously popular yes, I get it, but part of his appeal for people was how untouched his background was.

Flight of Icarus is kind of a mess plot wise with pretty weak/poor characterizations. There’s some good elements and scenes in it. It’s not bad, but it’s not great either. It’s pretty mid. I mean books based on tv shows aren’t exactly known for their… luster. It’s obviously going to lack the passion of an unpaid fanfic writer who has spent endless hours watching season 4 and doing in-depth research and analysis for their work… but that’s what we’re all used to. That’s our standard. So it’s kind of already set up for failure.

But, if I was in charge of a book like this, here’s some of the things I would do differently:

I’d have picked ONE main plot to focus on because there is way too much going on in these 280 pages for me to have the time to be invested or care about anything. There’s like three plus storylines going on with Eddie all to push ONE narrative which is basically him choosing between risking everything for a fantasy/dream of fame and money or staying true to himself and what’s real which is the steadfast loyalty of his friends and family. This takes the form of Al vs Wayne, Paige vs Ronnie, LA vs Hawkins, solo career vs band/hellfire, dropping out to try to become a rockstar vs being the first Munson to graduate, who Eddie wants to be vs who he truly is deep down.

It’s just too much.

I’d have taken a little more time making Eddie three dimensional. I know he’s a side character, but a lot of heart and thought went into creating him (at least on Joe’s end). I’d have made more conscious choices for his character, especially if he’s narrating in first person (I would have not used first person). His outer dialog is great (the dialog throughout the whole thing is actually really great, you can tell the author’s a screen writer and it’s one of the stronger elements to the book) but his inner monologue is pretty ooc and at times really off. He lacks a lot of the things that drew people to him in the first place or it’s just not as strongly presented I guess. He doesn’t feel fully formed.

If I was going to give Eddie a love interest (I don’t know why you would do that to yourself at this point, his fanbase is volatile at best and either ships him with Steve, Chrissy, or themselves, no one is going to like it) I’d have given her WAY better writing than an immersive wattpad character with little to no character traits outside of her aesthetic and interests which is an alternative style and liking music. Wow. Groundbreaking. I would have her make decisions based on a fully formed personality verses the convenience of the plot. And if not, if she’s going to be a means to an end, I’d at least go all in and make her wild or evil or a total bitch or conniving or funny or grumpy or goofy or something. She’s not given enough focus or time to be well rounded so I’d just have fun and go batshit crazy with her (don’t worry Paige, you’re mine now and I will give you an actual character and vindication).

Eddie choosing between his dad and Wayne would have probably been the plot I picked to focus on and I would have really dived into that. The good, bad and the ugly of the Munson family. Because Al (that would not be his name btw 🤢) and Wayne reflect the two sides of Eddie’s character. A charming, self serving, cowardly asshole and a good, strong and kind person who protects and looks after others. I like Ronnie a lot and she’s probably the best written character in the book, but Wayne needed to have more spotlight for this.

I’d have definitely made the plot a lot less fantastical and way more of a simple character study. Just Eddie deciding between embracing the infamy of the Munson family or choosing to rise above it. Does he decide to scheme and cheat like his dad to get more out of life or does he do the right thing and stay the course to actually graduate and make something of himself. That’s it. All that’s needed. Eddie getting a shot at being a rockstar at eighteen in Hawkins is already kind of odd, especially when his in is a twenty year old “junior scout”??? Who just happens to be at his dive bar and have the hots for him and fucks him and pretty much offers him a life in LA on a silver platter with no issues other than having to bail on his band and high school club?? It’s… a bit much for our unlucky loser boy we see in the show. Book Eddie is as lucky as they come, but he’s a total dumbass and decides to trust and scheme with his deadbeat father??? Who has always failed him? Why? I get he needs money but his kinda girlfriend’s got a job and he’s pretty much got a record deal. What even is this? That whole storyline would be scrapped to hell. But hey, at least it’s more believable than an actual drug heist and a kingpin and a shoot out. Oh and arson. It’s giving… *shivers* Riverdale and not in a good way.

Lastly, I’d have taken the opportunity to develop characters from the show a little more. Not a ton, but like the author did with Higgins. I really like how he was written in the novel. He had a lot of fire and personality out of nowhere which was kind of hilarious. I probably would have expanded Jason the most actually, I’d have added more to that tense rivalry. And I’d have left Chrissy pretty much out of it. The talent show is best left to the imagination and we already have a delicate narrative between them because of the forest scene. I wouldn’t want to add too much there. But she’d have a cameo for sure. Like brief eye contact or a shared smile or something at the very end of the book. Just a little glimmer of what’s to come. I’m also a Eddie has always had a little bit of a thing for Chrissy truther, so in my bias I might have him quietly admire her from afar or something.

And there you go.

I mean you’re going to get my version of his backstory eventually anyway and bonus he and Chrissy live, get married and have kids. Yay!

#flight of icarus #hellcheer #eddie x chrissy #eddissy #munningham #chrissy x eddie #eddie munson #eddie book

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columbiastapshoes · 8 months

Text

more general headcanons. take them in addition to my other ones.

my last headcanon post got a decent amount of attention so i thought i’d do it again :3 my brain is like. a factory that is constantly producing headcanons from machines it’s how i function

anyways most of these r about magenta because i’ve just been in a very magenta mood recently she’s so silly (i’m going feral why is she so PRETTY)

- brad played with dolls as a kid but his parents took them away when he got “too old” for it to be some cute quirk because a Man has to play with Trucks like a Man anyways he did play with Trucks like a Man but he never forgot how to do their hair so even now he can french braid the shit out of people’s hair, especially magentas hair because the dolls he had also had big poofy hair like hers so he’s used to that. however columbia is typically magentas french braiding person so when she saw her gf getting her hair braided by another man she was like “HOW DARE YOU WE ARE OVER” (as a joke obviously don’t fret)

- magenta can do the splits. idk. i just get that vibe and i’m right about everything soooooo /j

- columbia cannot maintain eye contact and magenta STARES and forgets to blink or look away so every time they talk it’s just

“👁️👁️”

“STOP”

- this is such a specific scenario but if they are shopping and come across a pillow they want to buy they give it the columbia test. what is the columbia test you might ask? they just get columbia to scream all of her pain and trauma into the pillow, and if the sound is muffled enough it is deemed worthy to purchase

- magenta just. brings random animals into the castle. and i’m not talking about “aww she like adopts cats a lot :3” no this bitch has brought in Raccoons from the Backyard and riff raff who is a paranoid ass mf is like “THAT THING HAS RABIES” and magentas like “LISTEN. HER NAME IS BEELZEBUB AND YOU WILL TREAT HER WITH RESPECT”

- why are all of these about magenta help

- speaking of magenta :3 she is a huge wes anderson fan and she and columbia watched isle of dogs together for a lil movie date and columbia sobbed during most of it 👍 she liked it though

-can we all agree that frank just. knows how to vogue. like bro came out of the womb knowing how to do that shit and it stuck with him for the rest of his life

-so i spent a really long time being stumped on how i think columbia would dress. like i have everyone else’s style figured out but i just couldn’t figure out hers for some reason,,,,, until i went down a rabbit hole and discovered cyndi lauper. i mean obviously i had listened to girls just wanna have fun and time after time but i has never actually seen this absolute icon. anyways i discovered her and her style during theater class one day and from then on i knew that columbia dresses like cyndi lauper, columbia listens to cyndi lauper, COLUMBIA IS CYNDI LAUPER

-ok so canonically i dont think this would happen but in my own version of rocky horror that exists in my brain magenta and brad are bffs. like yk those videos u see of “unlikely animal friendships” that is literally just them. it’s like goth gf x Some Guy™️ (x used platonically)

-brad is a die hard swiftie. i won’t elaborate.

-magenta loves loves LOVES abba

-sometimes i forget columbia isn’t canonically a theater kid. cuz like. she just Is a theater kid yk that’s who she is

- she would love grease

i will probably make another one of these posts when my list becomes longer again ‼️‼️

p.s i have. two rocky horror aus. would anyone like me to post about them. because i can. i am so normal about . aus

#rocky horror #rocky horror picture show #rhps #rocky horror au #frank n furter #brad majors #columbia rhps #magenta rhps

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dontbesoweirdkira · 2 years

Note

So you have anymore hc for yandere top gun, like which ones are a little more dark and will kidnap you and have delusions and which are strictly a watch from a-far type

A/N: Ugh yes! As much as I try to pretend I don’t like yandere lovers, I’m a sucker for this stuff!! Thanks for the request and patience as I get these works out. <33

Characters: I’m going to do Rooster and Bob because I feel as though Hangman and Phoenix are happy mediums and I don’t wanna be repetitive. I can do something if you’d really like. Just send it in.

Requests: open! Only for top gun at the moment.

Rooster

Rooster is definitely the most delusional out of the main four. Come on, you cannot convince me otherwise.

Everything he’s doing, he’s doing it for you. You know he’s just protecting you, right? He’s lost enough in his life, his dad, mom, and almost his uncle Mav. That cannot happen to you. No no no! He would not allow that to happen.

He’s not always aware of his actions when it comes to you. It’s like he’s in a trance, you make him do crazy things. Your safety, love, and attention comes before anything and anyone. He truly doesn’t give a shit about his job if that means you’re safe.

He thinks about locking you up as soon as his infraction starts. Why must you be so close and friendly to others? Why can’t you be more cautious when you’re in the air? Actually, why the fuck did you want to become a pilot, this shit is too dangerous. You’re going to get hurt, they’re gonna hurt you.

He’s seriously convinced that the other pilots are out to get you and that you’re too naive to see it. This is just basically Bradley’s competitive rivalry with the others projected onto you.

Bradley knows that locking you up is going to be difficult, you have responsibilities to attend to. If the military commands you to do something, then you must do it…your disappearance would be questioned and then led back to him.

Like I’ve mentioned in my other Yandere post, he’s not afraid to get his hands dirty and get you in trouble. He’ll get those fucking wings taken away if that means he can keep you safe.

He’ll probably hype you up and get you into a position where there’s of tons of responsibility. You have a deadline and you’re in charge of the whole crew. He’ll act like he’s helping you but in reality he’s passing you the wrong information, relaying false messages to others, destroying paperwork. This bitch has no chill at all, by the end of it everyone is screwed over so badly and all the fingers point back to you.

Once you’re done, he’s right by your side. Bradley is seemingly the only one that wants you to hear you out. Bradshaw makes you feel so much better, he’s your best friend and the only one who will ever be there for you. He invites you over to his place for some beers to relax and forget about everything. It was such a nice night full of laughter and fun…but honestly you cannot remember much else that went on.

Next thing you know, you woke up and now you’re locked in his bedroom😀

You may panic now.

Now he’s not one to get physical with you. I don’t see him actually wanting to slap or hurt you but he definitely has bursts of anger. Like he’s so overwhelmed and just wants you to calm down, he’ll just yell at you to get you to shut up. He doesn’t mean it, but why can’t you just understand you’re here for your own safety?? Huh?

Bradley is hella scary I’m sorry. This man is tall and has a rather large frame, he’s so intimidating, even when he’s bent down to your level. You can see the delusion and hurt in his eyes. He’s unstable.

“Y/N, WOULD YOU JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP FOR A MINUTE. I'M TRYING TO HELP YOU. GOSH WHY ARE YOU SO-“

“I- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I just want you to stop crying, please stop crying. Look I know you’re scared and this situation seems bad but I promise you, I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Please y/n just- STOP CRYING. THEY WERE GOING TO GET YOU KILLED AND I JUST-“

Yeah that’s what you’re dealing with. It’s even worse if yelling makes you cry even more and he’s just super overstimulated and doesn’t know what to do.

Once you both calmed down, he’s trying his hardest to convince you that you were in danger and that he’s keeping you here for your safety. He’ll go through great lengths to convince you. Stories and interactions are all fabricated and over exaggerated, and by the end of it you’re starting to question the relationships you had with people.

He doesn’t have you chained to the bed or anything, you can explore his bedroom. He’s removed anything that should be used as a weapon and has basically baby proofed it so he’s not worried. You can go through his stuff. I don't see him as someone being upset by that, he only cares about you hurting yourself. Besides he’s been fairly open about his life with you anyways.

He’d eventually let you roam around the house once you gain his full trust, by this point he’s already broken you in pretty much, you already showing signs of Stockholm syndrome and codependency.

But there’s rules, you cannot go into the kitchen, you’re not allowed into the backyard without his company, don’t mess with the fireplace, if you cannot reach something….please just ask.

There’s tons more but they are all just to keep you safe. He’ll get grumpy if you don’t obey them.

Speaking more about codependency, he basically cuts your contact with most people off. He wants you to the point where you follow him around like a lost puppy. He’s your protector, and he wants you to be able to come to him for anything. Only Maverick, and your very close family are allowed to talk to you. But you have to convince your family that you’re happy and healthy with him. If you’re showing signs of restraint towards him, you are not seeing any of them.

If you are trying to escape and get away from him, he has a far tighter grip, cameras are installed, you’re not allowed out of the room unless he’s with you, hes a bit more aggressive and argumentative. It’s not as much of a fun time.

Bob

Definitely the watch from the afar type. He’s fairly delusional as well. He knows his feelings towards you are wrong but he doesn’t care. You’re an urge he cannot shake.

Bob never really interacts socially unless he’s asked to or he knows it’s appropriate to. Most of the time he really just doesn’t have much input and doesn’t know what to exactly say. He enjoys just watching other people be in their natural habitat and have fun rather than needing to actually participate.

He most likely was like this as a kid as well, very observant. His mom or something probably kept him inside all of the time and he just watched the other kids play and have fun. He does give me the vibe he’s lacking some social development.

He loves watching you, especially when you’re playing different games like pool, poker, or chess. It’s so nice to see you so excited and focused. He’s learned so much about your personality and the things that make you happy. Most of the things he’s learned and gathered about you has been through observation.

I could see him staring daggers into whoever has your attention. He clenched his fist and grinds his teeth, He’s not really going to do anything but he so much wants to get rid of them.

He wish he was a lot more like Hangman or Coyote, smooth and Charismatic like them. He could just swoop in and take your attention away from em. That frustrates him more than anything.

-00% stalks you all the time. He’s surprisingly swift and careful when following you around. He loves to take pictures of you and save them to his computers and hard drives.

He easdrops on your conversations and phone calls just to see who you’re close to, what’s wrong, ect. Probably has access to all your social media, messages, and devices. He just wants to keep tabs and know everything he can about you.

I do see him as a kidnapping type as well. For Rooster he wants to keep you safe but Bob? He doesn’t exactly know why he wants to take you.

Can you imagine it? Like halfway through he’s like “wait fuck what am I supposed to do with them?”

Not really sure how he’d pull it off but it’d most likely be on impulse and very sloppy.

When you’re finally at his place, and you wake up he’s pacing around the room and is freaking out. Bro just committed a crime. :D

His face is recognizable, you’ve seen him looking at you from the corner of your eyes, you’ve even tried to speak to him on occasion but it never really went anywhere.

He’s not an irritable person, he understands you’re gonna scream and cry. He’ll let you do that and try to calm you down. He never raises his voice at you. Bob’s very gentle and is such a good boy.

He’s not super strict, he’ll get you anything you ask, he’d do anything for you. I’m serious Robert is not very hard to convince, you have honestly most of the power in the relationship. He worships you. Please love him.

He doesn’t keep you in one room and doesn’t really have tons of rules. His darling is most likely a kind and non confrontational type of person. Pretty easy going so he doesn’t have that much fear of you attacking him or something.

The house has been changed to what he thinks is your liking, it’s filled with all your interest, replicas of nicnacs from your own place, games and your favorite foods. If there’s something you’d like or you just want to redecorate…by all means. It’s basically your house now.

With this said, don’t be foolish and underestimate him. He looks scrawny and dorky but he’s very fit and has formal training. He can apprehend you with ease. Don’t try to run away and force him to chain you up. He doesn’t want to but those chains are so pretty on you. He’ll scold you like an upset mother and just watch you for hours while you sit in those lovely metal chains.

Does withdraw food and sometimes water as a punishment but not to the point of starvation or dehydration, just enough where you cave into his delusions.

“Y/n, I know this is a bit hard…I-it’s hard on me too. But don’t you ever dare run away again. It’s dangerous out there and you didn’t even ask me for permission. It’s late anyways and there’s horrible things that happen at night. I’ve done so much for you and I’ve given you so much and you try to repay me by this?? you’re going to be grounded for a few hours.”

Did I mention he’s a worried mom? Yes. He literally speaks like one. 😭 He’s always checking on you, cooking food, has tons of medicine just in case anything happens, probably even has a parental lock on your phone. He mimics his own overprotective parents a lot.

He is a bit forceful with physical contact. Bob doesn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, he's just a bit awkward. He’ll give you tons of kisses, hugs and cuddles. You’re loved. He wants you to feel loved the best way he knows how since his words are a bit hard to get out.

I need to make a general Yandere headcanon so I can go more in depth for him, pronto. Hold on

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tbyfandoms · 2 years

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Double Life | Luke Hemmings x Reader

Pairing: gangmember!luke hemmings x f!reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Summary: when y/n comes home early, she has a run in with her longterm boyfriend that leaves her questioning everything and wondering who exactly it is she’s in a relationship with (requested)

Warnings: depictions of violence, swearing, angst

Masterlist | Ask/Tell/Request

A/N: my first ever ‘gang themed’ fic and i’m a little nervous about it. i’ve never written something like this before, but for the most part i think it turned out ok! this is also one of my first ever requests, so hopefully the user who requested likes it! i’ve also been working on loads of other fics so if this one isn’t for you, don’t worry, others are coming! also, can we just talk about the fact how both of my luke fics are angsty? lmao I swear I'll write a fluff piece for this man soon. anyways, enjoy and lmk what you think :)

The moment you step into the house, you can tell something is off.

There’s this rumbling coming from the floor, it’s not extreme and only happens every few minutes so you know it’s not an earthquake, but it’s definitely suspicious. You feel like you can hear yelling as well, but it’s mumbled and sounds distant.

You’re not even supposed to be home right now. If it was like any other day, you’d still be at work until at least the late evening. There was an emergency, though, no one was hurt, but everyone got sent home early.

On your way home, you had called your boyfriend, Luke, but he didn’t pick up. You just figured he was with the band or working on something, but now you wish he had picked up because the yelling is getting louder and you’re pretty sure it’s coming from inside the house.

The smart thing to do would be to leave the house, call the police, and stay safe inside your car until they got here. Instead, you succumb to the urge of checking things out for yourself. Maybe Luke has the guys over and they’re just messing around like they always do.

You reflect back to when you pulled up to the house. There’s no other cars out there except yours. Maybe the guys got Ubers here? Jesus, you think, I’m grasping at straws at this point.

Inching your way to the back of the house, you strain your ears to try and make out the yelling. It sounds like there’s multiple voices, each one screaming over the other. Your heart rate picks up as the floor begins to shake again and the yelling becomes louder the closer your get to the basement door.

You never, ever go down there. When you and Luke bought the house it surprised you that there even was a basement. Majority of California homes didn’t have them, especially the ones in the hills.

It’s not like there’s anything down there, everything you need is either on the first floor or the second. The fact the space isn’t even finished is what prevented you from ever turning it into anything either. This first time you went down there was the last time. It was cold, dark, and gave you bad vibes in general, definitely not a place you’d willingly spend time.

Taking a peek around the corner, you notice the basement door is slightly ajar. The sight makes your heart rate skyrocket. There’s someone inside the house. It’s most certainly time to abort this mission and call the cops, now.

Taking several steps back to try and get out of here, you stop when a familiar voice makes it’s way to your ears. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” A scoff follows the sentence and your nerves drastically settle when you realize who it belongs to.

Luke! Who in the world knows why he’d be in the basement, but thankfully it isn’t some burglars. You wonder what he’s doing down there…

Opening the door, you start to make your way down the steep steps. Holding onto the railing, you nearly fall down the stairs when the rumbling starts up again, and so does the yelling.

“You son of a bitch you better answer me right now! Or I’ll show you just how angry I can get!” You watch in horror as your boyfriend of three years throws a punch at some guy tied to a beam in the middle of your basement. The moment Luke’s hand connects with the guy’s face, it causes his head to fly back into the beam. Your blood runs cold as you realize that’s what the rumbling feeling in the floor was.

“Luke?” It comes out like a gasp and suddenly every head in the room snaps towards you. Luke’s shaking out his hand when he turns towards you. You’ve never seen him so angry, so violent. His features soften when he realizes it’s you.

“Y/N? W-What are you doing home? You’re supposed to be at work.” From your place at the bottom of the stairs you can see the way his Adam’s apple bobs up and down. You’ve caught him off guard, you’re not supposed to be seeing this, not supposed to know.

You feel like you’re gonna be sick.

“I got off work early, there was an emergency, I tried to call you,” you reply weakly. When you go to speak again, it comes out like a whisper. “What’s going on?”

Looking around, you take in the three other men in the room. Two of them who you recognize immediately, guards the boys have for the band, and the other is the guy tied to the beam. Your skin crawls when you get a good look at the apparent hostage. His face is beaten and bloody, the bodily fluid trickling down his face and onto his shirt, small pants coming from his mouth.

“It’s nothing to worry about, just go back upstairs and I’ll be with you in a minute.” Luke’s voice is clipped, it’s formal and affirmative. You’ve never heard him speak like that before, and what the hell is that supposed to mean? I’ll be with you in a minute? What is this, a business office?

“Nothing to worry about? How am I supposed to not worry when my boyfriend is beating the shit out of some guy in our house!?” You’re yelling at this point, fear and anger bubbling up your chest. How could he do this? “What is it you’re not telling me? You better start explaining yourself, Luke or I swear to God.”

The blonde rushes over to you, determination and concern mixed in his eyes. He reaches out to grab your hand, but the minute he touches you you shake him off, tears prickling in your eyes as you notice the cuts and bruises littering his knuckles.

“Y/N, I promise I’ll explain everything to you, I just need a minute.”

An exasperated laugh leaves your lips. “What, so you can finish him off?” You shake your head and look the Aussie right in the eyes as you say, “Who even are you?”

Rushing back up the stairs, you let the tears fall freely. Never in your life have you felt so confused, shocked, and angry. You think over every possible explanation as to what can be going on right now, but nothing justifies it, nothing excuses the violent actions the man you love has taken part in.

It's not long before Luke is barreling up the stairs after you. He wasted no time in telling the other men what to do with the, apparently useless, insider. He clearly wasn't gonna talk so there's no need to keep him holed up any longer, Luke would get what he needed another way. Right now all he wanted to do was talk to you, try to explain. He knows instantly it's not gonna go well, but he hopes to God he can somehow fix this, somehow not lose you. Please.

"Y/N, hold on, just wait a second." Luke meets up with you in the living room, you lightly pace back and forth, not caring about the tears dripping onto your shirt.

His voice halts your movements, you turn towards him, confusion and disbelief written all over your face. "Tell me everything, now." You have no patience anymore, you need answers and you need them now.

The blonde raises his hands in defense, but his act to try and calm you only heightens your anxiety as you get a really good look at his hands now. Dried blood you know doesn't belong to him runs down the creases in his palms, the bruising so much more evident now that you're in a lit area.

"I'll tell you everything, but I need you to trust me and trust that what I'm telling you is the truth, okay?" Luke looks at you with those big blues eyes and in that instant it's so hard not to trust him, so hard not to just break down in his arms and try to forget the nightmare you just walked in on, but you can't and you won't.

"Just start talking, please," you say, it almost sounds like you're begging at this point. You just can't wrap your mind around this, nor do you really want to, but you know you have to.

"I'm in a gang, Y/N." The Australian native drops his hands to his sides, looking at you with a soft but serious expression.

The laugh escapes your lips before you can even think about stopping it. "A gang? Really, Luke? You're kidding me, right?"

"I'm being serious, I told you you had to trust that what I'm telling you is the truth." You scoff and shake your head, this is ridiculous.

"You seriously expect me to believe that? You're in a band, Luke! One of the biggest ones out there, might I add. You couldn't possibly be in a gang, you're lying to me."

"I'm not lying! I'm telling you the truth, I swear. I'm in a gang and I have been for a long time. Before I even met you I was in it," Luke sighs, looking away from you before returning his gaze. "I've been in the gang as long as I've been in the band."

It takes a moment for it to click in your mind. If Luke's been in a gang as long as he's been in the band that means...

"Are the other guys in on this with you?" Luke nods curtly, his gaze hard at the realization everything's reached a fever pitch. This is happening and there's no turning back. "Oh my god."

Nearly doubling over, short gasps make their way between you lips. Your head spins at the fact not only has your boyfriend been keeping something so incredibly consequential a secret from you, but so have three of the most important people in your life.

"I'm sorry this is how you had to find out. I wanted to tell you when we got more serious as a couple, but I couldn't, for your own safety."

"For my own safety!? Luke, what the hell!? If anything you put me in more danger by not telling me!" You run your hands through your hair as you let out a frustrated groan. "How did you even get in a gang? You mean to tell me when you started this band, when you were fifteen years old, you also joined a gang?"

"That's exactly what I'm telling you! I know it sounds insane, but it's the truth! I told you how we didn't have any money when we started, our families couldn't help with everything we needed, so we looked into alternatives to help us keep the band going."

"So instead of getting jobs at a grocery store you went and joined a gang!?" Your voice is rising as the minutes go by, the anger and betrayal being the only thing keeping you going at this point.

"It wasn't supposed to be forever, okay!? Ashton was older than us, he went to school with different people. Some of them reached out to him and gave him an offer for us we couldn't refuse. We needed that money, Y/N. It was just petty stuff we had to do, no big deal!"

"No big deal? I don't think you can call torturing someone in our home, no big deal, Luke!" Luke is getting frustrated now, he's trying to explain it to you in a way he'd think you'd understand. He knows it's a lot to take in, but it's who he is, this is part of him, and he wants you to grasp that fact.

"It wasn't like that in the beginning. I'm telling you the truth when I say it was just small stuff we had to do. They understood our situation and didn't force us to do anything insane."

"Okay, if they were so understanding, why didn't you guys leave when the band got big? I know for a fact once you guys took off you could afford to fend for yourselves. Why stay and object yourselves to stuff like that when you knew the risks, knew you had a fanbase full of teenage girls that could easily get wrapped up in something like that if the wrong person came after you!"

"It's not that simple! Once you get in, it's really hard to get back out. We knew that when we joined and we've been doing just fine with it ever since. Nothing has ever happened that would put someone involved with us in danger, but to make sure, only the people that need to know about the gang, know. I know you saw the two security guards, they're part of the gang too, they just present themselves as our band security but they're really there to ensure everything is safe and to handle anything we need if something happens."

"Luke, you're saying all of this as if it somehow makes it better! Nothing about being in a gang is safe and it shocks me you're so sure it is. I don't care how hard it is, you and the other guys shouldn't be involved!" You can see the anger building in Luke's eyes, as you're sure he can see it building in yours.

"You don't understand and it's obvious you never will! I get it, you're probably scared, but you shouldn't be! You're safer than you think-"

Cutting him off immediately with a sharp scoff you say, "I shouldn't be scared? Please, tell me how I shouldn't be scared of coming home to find my boyfriend beating on a man in our house!"

"I'm sorry you saw that, you weren't supposed to! I've never brought people like that to our house before now. Things just got out of hand and we had to move fast so I brought him here in order to be in control of the environment, it won't happen again."

"You're damn right it won't happen again because you're leaving the gang!" Your voice echoes off the walls in the living room, your distress evident in every word.

Luke pulls at his curls, trying to keep his emotions in check, but it's getting increasingly difficult. You both are beginning to lose it. This is definitely not turning out how Luke had hoped.

"I'm not leaving the gang!"

"Why not!? Why are you so attached to this!? I know there has to be a way to get out of it, nothing is impossible! I don't understand why-"

"Because I'm the goddamn leader!" The blonde's voice practically rattles the walls around you, the admission sucking the air right out of your lungs.

"You're the leader of a gang?" You stare at your boyfriend with utter disbelief, tears prickling your eyes and your skin burning. "We've been together for over three years and I'm just now finding out that you're not just a member, but the leader of a fucking gang!?"

You're shaking your head, not wanting to believe any of this. Wanting so desperately to go back to being in ignorant bliss to everything that's just happened. "I'm sorry it took so long, but I told you why it had to be like this. I'm not leaving the gang and that's final. Over the years the original leader took notice in me and once it was his time to step down, I was his first choice as his replacement. I’ve been the leader for a while now and I have a responsibility, I have people and things to look after. This is important to me!"

The anger between you both seems to continuously deflate and swell. Each confession leaving room for a moment of dissipated anger, only for it to rise once more. Your eyes widen at Luke's comment, fury boiling under the surface of your skin in an instant.

"And am I no longer one of those important people!? What about me, Luke!? What about your family!? Those are the people you should be looking after! Not criminals who probably wouldn't hesitate to hurt you if it wasn't for your status!"

"Don't you dare try and flip this! I never said I didn't care about you or my family!" Luke takes several steps closer to you and you don't even think for a second about backing down. "I love you and I always have! It's not fair of you to try and diminish that!"

"Really, Luke!? Because it's pretty damn hard to tell right about now! I don't know what to believe anymore, it's like you're living some, some double life!" The tears are rolling rapidly down your face but they do nothing to cool your rising temper.

The blonde's eyes are filled with an emotion you've never witnessed from him before. His face is red and his lips are set in a straight line. You've never seen him like this, hoped you never would. He's such a different person right now, it makes you dizzy.

"That's the way it's supposed to be! How many fucking times-!" Luke raises his hand to try and annunciate his point, but the movement startles you, images of his hand raising to hit the man downstairs flashing in your mind.

You're frozen in your spot, blood running cold, nothing but fear running through your body. Luke stops talking, yelling, immediately. His eyes flash from his raised hand to your frightened expression. He notices the glossiness in your eyes, your rigid shoulders.

What's happening registers instantly in Luke's head. You thought he was going to hit you.

"Baby-," Luke croaks out, his voice weak. He continues, but it's at a whisper. "Did you, did you think I was going to hit you?"

Your silence is enough of an answer for the man before you. His eyes fill with tears, the anger and frustration leaving his body almost as quickly as it entered. "Y/N, I would never hurt you, I swear."

He reaches out towards you, wanting to embrace you and let you know just how much you mean to him, but you take a step back, turning your head away from his approaching hands.

"I-I need some time alone." It's barely a whisper, but Luke hears you and understands. His heart shatters at how he's made you feel, how he's handled this. "Please just let me be alone for a while."

Out of the corner of your eye you see Luke nod slightly. You waste no time in walking away from him, practically running up the stairs to your room.

When you walk in, you close the door and lock it. The action happens almost like an instinct and it causes your heart to break even more than it already was. How could it take less than an hour for your whole perspective to change on the man you love? How could it take less than an hour to become scared of the man you share this very room with...

Choked sobs erupt from your throat as you fling yourself onto your bed, burying your face in the pillows, wishing with everything you've got that you could start this whole day over and prevent any of this from even happening.

*****

It's been hours since your argument with Luke. The house is still, quiet. You heard his footsteps outside the bedroom door earlier, could practically hear the thoughts inside his head of if he should knock or not. He ended up walking away and it confused the hell out of you that you simultaneously were relieved and sad he had.

Your head and throat hurts, no doubt from all the crying and screaming earlier. Your eyes are puffy and you quickly gave up on trying to make yourself look presentable.

A little over an hour ago you called one of your best friends, you decided it was best to get away for a few days, try to clear your head and think all of this over. It's going to be hard just leaving like this, leaving Luke, but you don't know what else to do. You need to get away for a while, from all this, from Luke...

Taking your suitcase off the bed and putting it on the floor, you grab the last of your things and walk to the door. You take a deep breath before slowly unlocking and then opening it.

The hallway is empty, but now you can hear the light strumming of a guitar you couldn't hear before coming from downstairs. You can't help the small smile that graces your lips. You've always loved that sound, Luke playing random songs or ones he's working on. You feel a tiny squeeze on your heart as you go to make your way down the stairs.

You know the moment Luke notices you because suddenly the music stops and it's followed by shuffling as he gets up to make his way towards you. Using what little strength you have left, you look up and take him in. He's got a fresh set of clothes on, his hair is slightly damp, and you notice his hands are no longer caked in blood. He must've cleaned up in the guest room when you were holed up in your shared bedroom. You swallow the lump in your throat before it has a chance to grow.

"Hey," Luke says lightly. You can tell he's scared to make any sudden movements, to frighten you or cross a line.

"Hey," you reply. You watch as blue eyes trail swiftly over your luggage, can see the sadness that fills them when they reach your own again. "I'm gonna go stay at Y/F/N's for a bit."

Nodding his head, Luke gives you a small smile. He understands your need to get away, he would want to as well if roles were reversed. He feels like an idiot and wants to take it all back and start over, but he knows he can't.

"I really am sorry about everything, Y/N. I made such a mess of everything and I know I can't take any of it back. I hope you know that I truly would never, ever hit you. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I did." The sincerity in Luke's voice is evident, you can tell he means what he's saying.

"I-I know, Luke. I'm sorry too." Luke rushes towards you but stops dead in his tracks when he realizes it, knowing you could still be scared even if you're saying you know he wouldn't hurt you.

"Baby, you have nothing to be sorry for. This is on me, I did this to us. I should've told you. You're the most important person in the world to me and keeping something like that from you, even if I thought it was the right thing, was wrong. I understand why you feel the need to leave and I want you to know that you can take all the time you need. I'll be here for you, always." The Aussie takes a hesitant step towards you and at no sign of discomfort, he slowly reaches out and cups your face with his palms. "I love you so much."

Tears sting your eyes once more, but you do your best to blink them away. Taking an unsteady breath you say, "Somehow, I still love you too." A weak laugh mixed with a sob comes from Luke and the sight and sound nearly breaks you. You give him a small smile as you lightly place your hand on his chest.

Luke leans down, his lips brushing against yours and you make no move to turn him away. The moment you two connect, you feel yourself melting into him instantly. No matter how upset and heartbroken you are over everything, it still hasn't changed the way this man makes you feel when he kisses you.

It takes everything in you to pull away, but you do it. Luke leans his forehead on yours and you revel in it for a minute, not wanting to leave his warm embrace, but you have to. You need to take a few days, so you step back and grab the handle of your suitcase.

Turning towards the front door, you open it and begin to step outside. Before you can close the door behind you, you take one last look at your boyfriend, at this man you thought you knew everything about but now feel a little clueless over, this man you can't believe you still love with your whole heart.

"Goodbye, Luke."

#luke hemmings x reader #luke hemmings x y/n #luke hemmings x you #luke hemmings imagine #luke hemmings fanfiction #luke hemmings fanfic #luke hemmings angst #5sos fanfiction #5sos fanfic #luke hemmings #5sos #5 seconds of summer #requested

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rattilingus · 2 years

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I Wanna Watch You Close PT1

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

summary| All you wanna do is spend time with Eddie. Who knew all these feelings would come out?

word count| 3.2k

content warning| hurt/comfort, brief descriptions of sex, arguing, SEXUAL TENSION BABY!, idiots in love, reader is a bad bitch fr, idiots in love, slightly mean Eddie, 18+ MINORS DNI

AN| Sorry its been a while, babes. I got a job and have like no days off so writing has been crazy. But I’ve had this idea brewing for a while and had to do it. The second part is spicy and will be having the good stuff but enjoy this buildup for now. LMK what you think! XOXO

It wasn’t uncommon for you and Eddie to be placed in compromising situations. It’s bound to happen when every waking moment, you spend with one another. You’re his best friend, and he’s yours. Though, of course, harboring intense— daresay, crippling— feelings of love and lust for your ‘best buddy in the whole entire world’ (Eddie had said such in a sickeningly sweet, mocking tone as you gave him a free burger after his long day at school) is particularly damning. He wasn’t like anyone you’d ever met, and no one was nearly as eccentric, kind and gentle as him. He held your heart in his metal clad fingers, even if it was unbeknownst to him.

But there were moments, recently becoming less rare and bolder, where you think Eddie might harbor some attraction towards you too. It wasn’t too hard to believe. You were beautiful, everyone told you so daily, but Eddie’s behavior had become strange. Your relationship consisted of tons of physical touch. Eddies’ arm draped around your shoulders, fingers toying with the strands of your hair; hands gripping your waist, fingers digging into your skin as he watched from over your shoulder as you rolled a blunt or shuffled through some magazines in the store. He always found some way to have his hands on you, and you doing the same. It was one of your many ways of showing each other affection. But those touches have started to linger, become hotter and suffocate you with pleasure and confusion. His breath has begun to kiss your neck when he leans into you from behind. Your fingers ghosting over his cheekbones to brush a stray clump of curls out of his face, eyes unable to leave one another. Your persistent touches had become a reflection of something more.

The days you sleep over at one another’s place, you wake to your limbs tangled and chest pressed against him so closely that you can’t tell where he starts and you begin, arms wrapped around each other. His head will rest on yours, and you can smell the faint scent of his morning breath mingling with yours, but his warmth gives you a certain comfort that is inexplicable, indescribable. And he’ll wake an hour after you, the bare skin of his legs shifting around yours, and you’d quickly tangle your hands in his hair, rubbing smooth circles in this scalp that would lull him back to sleep. He’d mumble against your cheek, pressing a soft kiss there that would make your insides flutter, saying “If you keep doing that, I’ll never wanna leave.” You’d chuckle, a low rumbling in your chest that he could feel through his own, and promise to make breakfast if he got up in 10. The same routine, domestic and endearing, but it did nothing for your feelings.

Only made them more painful. Especially in moments like these.

You’d gone on your day off to Eddie's place, planning on asking him if he wanted to join you for a midnight swim at the Hawkins Community Pool. He’d always preferred going at night, not liking the feeling of people swimming away from him so obviously. Even though he acts so unbothered, things like that get to him; it would with anyone. So it became a little habit of yours. Going every now and then at night and luckily the pool never being covered and the storage never being closed allowed your illegal exploits. You’d hop the fence, clad only in your black bikini that did everything for your ass and Eddie would follow behind you, wearing a tee and black and red swimming trunks. It was thrilling and fun and everything you’d ever hope for. One of the many memories that you have with Eddie that’ll stay with you for eternity.

Letting out an excited huff, you ran up to the trailer only to find it empty. It was strange considering if Eddie wasn’t with you, or playing DnD, or performing, he was here in his room. You nibbled on your bottom lip, fingers drumming against your tee covered hip.

There was one other place you could think of.

You drove to the clearing, a small patch in the woods that he loved hanging at to clear his head and relax away from home. You’d seen his van parked, which confirmed his being there, and began pushing through the trees. The twigs scratched at your ankles and bugs nipped at the meat of your calves, but you didn’t mind. Your heart thrummed in your chest, the feeling of your new bathing suit, all polyester and acrylic, rubbing against your body reminding you of what you planned for tonight. A smile pulled on your features, eager to find your curly headed friend. It was a shame it fell as quickly as it came, your body stopping mid step as a noise, one too similar, echoed through the shrubbery. Your heart jolted, picking up a frantic pace of a different kind and head swimming with an anxious heat. No longer was the sweet thrum of excitement and love that clouded your mind. Your limbs felt like they couldn’t move and a sudden rush of dizziness lulled you forward. Silent prayers reverberated through your mind, begging that that sound wasn’t what you knew it to be, and with who you knew it could be. You listened once again.

And felt instantly nauseous.

Another high pitched moan echoed through the forest, followed by a ‘Fuck, yes!’ that made your skin crawl with something other than mosquitos. And for some stupid reason, you pushed forward until you stood face to… horizontal body with Eddie and some girl clad in Hawkins Highs’ cheer uniform. He had her bent over the picnic table, a blonde ponytail gripped roughly in his ring covered fist and hunched over her back, grunting filthy words in her ear. Her orange, pleated skirt and pretty polka dotted underwear hung on her ankle that was pushed up on the bench, while Eddie was fully clothed besides his pants pushed down enough to have his cock freed, which was buried roughly into the girl. You gulped, minor hints of arousal tugging at the base of your stomach, because Man, Eddie could fuck. And he looked good while doing it. Hair sticking to his forehead, a devious smile on his lips and voice gravely and hot and angry. But even with your minor attraction to catching him having sex, it didn’t hide the fact that you were fucking heartbroken. Your heart clenched painfully in your chest, and your hand shot up to grasp at the thin cloth of your Black Sabbath tee that Eddie had given you. That Eddie had given you.

You were amazed you could even speak, though the sound was garbled and wet with tears. “Fuck!” You choked out, causing both of the occupied people to look in your direction. The girl's face somehow turned an even brighter shade of red as she scrambled away with what could only be described as shame, tripping over herself to pull her skirt back up. Eddie, on the other hand, stood stiffly, eyes locked on your frame. But you looked anywhere but at him. You wanted to run, eyes brimming with hot tears and throat feeling tight and impossibly dry, but your limbs refused to move. The girl scurried up to you, eyes frantic and pretty, pale hands with nails painted pink gripped your arm.

“Please—oh my god, please don’t tell anyone! I’ll be kicked from the team.” And for some reason, the sight of her eyes filling with tears and searching yours rapidly made you fill with unabashed anger. As if she should be ashamed of having been caught having sex with Eddie. You swatted her hand away, the sound almost as loud as the slapping of skin that filled the clearing only moments prior.

Your eyes, cold and unforgiving, looked at her own baby blue ones. “I’m not trying to ruin your reputation, darling,” You spat. Your voice was remarkably even given the situation. “Get out of my fucking face. Now.” With that, she ran away, jumping over branches and disappearing into the deep of the woods. The sun trickled through the dense leaves of the trees, setting the clearing in a golden light that was too pretty for such a situation. Your eyes finally meet Eddies who still stood the way he was before, and you glanced down to see his now softened dick laying limp in-between his boxers. It would be hilarious any other time. But now, it only fueled the fire inside of your chest.

“Put your fucking dick away before the bugs are the next thing to devour it.” The scowl on your face was deadly, enough to break Eddie out of his spell. You turn on your heel, heading in the direction of your car far too eager to get home and sob into your pillow. You can hear the sound of Eddie zipping up his pants behind you, your name stumbling past his lips.

“Would you please stop?” He yells, rushing after your quickly retreating form. You ignore him, reaching into your pocket to pull out your keys. You barely make it to your car before Eddie screams, voice angered and exasperated. “I swear to fucking god, I said stop!”

At that you whip around, eye wild and frame slightly trembling. “Or what? Or what, Eddie? Or-fucking-what!” And while you and him had gotten in arguments before, they had never been so damaging, so straining. Finally the tears that had been threatening to pour out finally did. Your hands gripped your hair, tugging slightly before roughly running across your face.

“What is your issue?” He walked up to you, slowly, as if you were a wounded deer. It definitely felt like you were hit with a car. And though the way his words were spoken were soft, they were filled with a mixture of many emotions, some you could place. Worry, anger, shame. Others you couldn’t. “Why are you crying?”

And then he was surrounding you. His smell, his eyes, the still slightly damp frill of his curls. His hand cupped your cheek, stroking the ball of your cheekbone lightly and you could smell the lingering scent of her on his fingers. It made you nauseous. You pushed his hand away, your nose scrunching, and head turning away from him. He backed away; small, sad steps. The way he curled into himself, hands gripping each other as if he’d burned them and eyes looking at them angrily, made you want to reach out to him as if you were the one who broke his heart. Tell him that you were sorry. To touch you again and wipe away your tears. But you sucked your trembling lip into your mouth, taking a deep breath through your nose.

“I was just surprised.” You mutter, tears finally stopping and hands stuffing into the pockets of your shorts. You still refused to look at him and your heart hammered in your chest, but your voice calmed. “I just… I dunno, Eddie.” He sighs. It’s an angry sound that makes your head hot and tears threaten to fall again. You wish you could plug your ears.

“What do you mean, ‘you don’t know’?” Your eyes flicker to him at the harsh words, and part of you melts. His eyes are soft as they look at you. Those gorgeous, deep brown eyes that stare so intensely. As if you’re a puzzle he’s been trying to figure out. Won’t give up on. Even with his evident frustration. The frown on his face causes wrinkles that you would kill to kiss away. Rub with the pads of your thumbs until they smoothed down into his beautiful, pale skin. Have those long lashes flutter prettily. Have him look happy again.

You take a cautious step forward, hands moving from the comfort of your pockets back into the humid summer air. “I just… I never expected you to be fucking someone.” Your voice is uncharacteristically soft, sadness pooling into every word. Eddie notices this instantly, because of course he does. He’s your other half. He knows you better than anyone. He, too, steps forward. He tilts his head as if he’s examining you, eyes searching your face.

“Babydoll,” His voice is too soft. “You… you know I have done things before.” He’s too understanding. “I— I know you do t-things.” He’s too close.

It feels sudden when his hand touches your face. As if you weren’t watching his every move until this moment. So when his thumb strokes the curve of your jaw, you flinch. He doesn’t move this time. Only pushes even closer into your space. It must be habitual, because as your chests touch, you hook your pointer fingers into the loop of his pants. A small smile pulls on his face because you’re still you. Hurt and face sticky from tears, but still you.

“I know, I know.” Your eyes sting a little from mascara falling into your eyes, but you refuse to look away. “I guess I should say I never thought I’d see you fucking someone. Especially not in public.” He chuckles, and you can’t help but join. Even if it's weak and hurts your chest.

“We were covered.”

“And it hurt.” You didn’t want the words to come out. Then you’d have to explain why it hurt seeing him like that. Why you wished it was you and only you in that position with him. You also didn’t want him to pull away. With a look so accusatory and offended, leaving you cold even in the summer heat.

“How do you think I feel when I see you covered in hickies, huh? With wobbly legs,” The way he mimics your walk is insulting and a little humiliating. You huff out an angered breath. Maybe you should’ve paid attention to what he meant before, but you focused on rolling your eyes and throwing your hands up in the air. “Wait, no— or what about that post-orgasm glow you had two days ago?”

“That’s not fair!”

“Uh, yeah it is.” He points at you with one of his metal clad fingers. “How come you can storm away and make me feel like shit? That’s what’s not fair! Not when I—“ And he cuts himself off, words pouring out of his mouth and now you’re the one to feel guilt. It’s not his fault that you feel the way you do. Well, in a way it is but it’s not his problem. Not his consequence. And he’s allowed to do whatever he wants. Just like you do.

You nod, damp eyes big and filled with sorrow. All you have to do is take one step forward and you’re back in his space, grabbing his hand with both of yours and pulling it to your lips. You kiss the silver, metal cool against your lips. Your eyes flutter up to his, and all that anger is gone. Up close you can see the tears that hug his waterline, and your heart breaks once again. You coo, and not in a condescending way. The sound is soothing, a rumbling in your chest that causes your throat to vibrate. His name pours from your lips, accompanied by thousands of ‘I’m sorry’s and ‘You did nothing wrong’. You can feel his hiccup and the wet heat of tears hit your cheek as he smushes the side of his face against yours, hair tickling your cheek. You press into him until you feel like there’s no such thing as space. Just the two of you, connected by the rapid beating of your hearts. His mutterings are cut off by damp sniffles and choked breaths that make you cry too, but you can hear him clearly.

“I was such a fuckin’ asshole, you deserve the right to neuter me.” And even now he still can joke. You laugh through tears, and turn to kiss his cheek.

“And ruin your chances of going pro?” He barks out a laugh, one that makes your heart soar. He pulls back and looks at you, a smile on his features with cheeks flushed pink and glossy from tears.

“I was never one for sports anyways.” Eddie searches your face in a way that makes you worry, even if a small smile still rests on his features. “She meant nothing to me. They never do.” Your lips part. You can feel the pulling of skin and the breath you suck in is tiny and cool. His hands are still wrapped around your waist and they squeeze slightly, thumbs digging into the meat of your stomach. His eyes are endless, but he’s said the same about yours. An explanation as to why he always stares. Always looks at you as if he’s searching for water and you’re the oasis. You’re his haven. You can feel yourself sway forward, eyes locked on the pink curve of his lips. Eddie’s fingers tickle your side as they snake around to the curve of your lower back, pushing your pelvis slightly closer. Until the heat of his body is radiating into yours.

And the way he whispers your name, as if it is forsaken, makes your knees weak. You say his name right back, a gentle purr that makes his heart stutter in his chest. The sound of his sigh is wavering, shaky and dry. As if he’s parched. And maybe he’s just as thirsty as you.

The sudden clap of thunder tears the two of you apart. Jumping away from the other as if the other was an open flame. And maybe you were, your body was on fire, arousal pooling in the pit of your gut.

“I-I uh,” you rushed to pull your keys back out of your pocket, dangling them in the air as if you two weren’t two feet away from your car. “I came to see if you wanted to go swimming tonight?” And why did it sound so awkward? Maybe it was the way your eyes darted from his face back to the ground. Or the way he looked down at you, an amused smile on his face, one that made you feel small and a little pathetic and something else. Because he watched you with heat in his eyes. That same heat that you saw before you interrupted. You pulled your lip into your mouth, biting a little too hard but the pain distracted you. Fuck, get a grip.

“It’s gonna rain, babydoll.” He said, arms out and slowly walking towards you, smirk on his gorgeous face. He’s teasing you.

“Does a little rain make Santanists’ melt?” You purr back, wicked grin matching his own. Two can play at this game.

And his hands are back on you, fingers interlocking with your outstretched one, the metal of the keys pressing into your palms. He leans forwards, lips ghosting against your cheek, brushing against the gossamer strands of hair towards your ear. “Get me wet and we’ll see.” He pulls away, keys now in his hand and leaving you wanting. He walks towards his van, a smile resting on your face, watching his retreating form.

“I’ll drive, Sweetheart. I must fetch my armor!” He ducks into his van, an all too real sounding British accent echoing out. He runs out, trunks in hand and a dimpled smile pulling on his features. You take no time to hop in, eagerness filling your body once again.

Maybe this night will be promising after all.

#stranger things #eddie stranger things #eddie munson #eddie #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie my beloved #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson oneshot #x reader #stranger things angst #angst #stranger things fluff #eddie x you #don't feel like other tags

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grippingbeskar · 1 year

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salt, ice and fire | frank castle

chapter twenty five - witness statement

frank castle x fem!reader

warnings: canon typical violence, swearing, mentions of death, torture all that fun stuff, tiny mention of franks family stuff and a small illusion to sexy times.

a/n: oh my goddddd this series is simultaneously the best and worst thing happening to me. this chapter was originally so short, but i added heaps to the end and now that extra part i wrote in like 20 minutes is one of my favourites. as always i love you bitches so much. i think there’s only one chapter left. maybe an epilogue because i don’t want to blue ball you all. i can’t. this note is already too long and i’ve made you wait long enough. bye bye for now!

[series masterlist] [previous chapter]

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You know what a bad week is like.

Looking at your life in terms of numbers, something you used to try and do the first time you were locked up, you’ve had your fair share of them. It helped you count the days, keep track of how much time had passed. You’d look at it in weeks, seven days each— evaluating them, adding another scratch on the wall to keep count. A bad week would be lots of time drugged up, covered in blood, doing things you don’t think you can stomach to remember, and then passing out from exhaustion.

A good week to you used to be being left alone. Sleeping, getting food in a bowl and not slid across the floor. A warm day, one where you weren’t shivering to the point of pain. These past few weeks, though— they made you think that nearly every single week before this had been bad, because nothing could compare to this.

You could wake up whenever you wanted, a safety net of Frank Castle wrapped over and between you. You know he wakes up early, but he waits for you. Just sits there, holding you tight, waiting until whatever hour your eyes flutter open, just so you don’t have to wake up alone. When you finally regain consciousness out of the deepest sleeps of your life, you feel the warmth of the sun on your face. It streams in through the window, washing the room in a dull orange glow, and when you roll over it paints him in it too.

You allow yourself the freedom to indulge every instinct. He does, too. You spend hours there— wrapped in sheets, sometimes slow and searching, other times hard and rough, feeding parts of each other no one else seems to satisfy. He’s practically got you on lock, able to keep you on the edge for what feels like an eternity if he wants, but he always yields in the end. You learn him too, never looking away shyly, making sure he knows just how badly you want to look. You’d probably never leave that bed if you didn’t have to; happy to starve and fade away in his strong arms, the pleasure flooding your body far too tempting to be broken up by things as simple as food or water.

Eventually you get up, and you don’t care about the time. He cooks, and you watch. You try a few times, fucking up so many eggs that he has to go and buy more after one day. You settle on cleaning up if he makes sure the food is edible, and it’s sort of incredible how good he is at it. The smell of bacon quickly becomes a favourite, shaking off that final lull of sleep and post-sex haze.

You call your brother. A different phone every day, but you can hear his voice. He’s happy, safe, and making friends with the kids he’s staying with. You learn the mothers name— the one who was tortured by the Colonel— is Corinne. She talks to you, too. She is everything Sam needs, and tells you how well he’s doing. How much she cares for him, and how she owes you her children’s lives. Her husbands life.

You talk to the Doctor— who also has a name, Zaed. He is kind, and speaks softer than his wife. He tells you he will never be able to repay you and Frank for his life— but he already is. Keeping your brother safe is all you wanted, and he’s doing it.

Sam speaks broken Russian into the phone, with a horrible accent, but he’s learning. He sounds so happy there— a careless happiness you’d never be able to offer him if he was with you. He has to start school, and says he’s nervous, but he’s in the same grade as his best friend, Corinne and Zaed’s kid, Nikolai. You remember his face, how you thought for just a second that he was your brother when you and Frank broke into the sewerage system.

“They said the bus comes to my house and then drops me home! And, on Friday’s they serve pizza!” He told you, and you laugh at how he goes on to recite the rest of the school menu. You haven’t spoken to him since yesterday—his first day, but Corinne said he was so excited that when he came home he immediately fell asleep on the couch.

You can’t go out a whole lot, still playing it safe, but there’s no where you’d rather be. You and Frank spend your days like you had since you met each other— together. Even things you shouldn’t enjoy, like washing dishes or cleaning out the fridge that hadn’t been opened in three months feel good with him. You learn that he reads a lot, admittedly very slowly. You don’t understand how he can spend so much time in one book, absorbing every word and sentence like a sponge. You read how you watch movies— quickly, all at once, needing to know the ending right away.

You want to never leave this place. It seems he has that effect on you. Cementing you to wherever he is, just by hanging around. The trial sneaks up on you, and all the time in the world wouldn’t prepare you for it, but it comes anyways. Frank calls Matt the morning of, making sure everything is squared away. You talk to him too, spending three hours on speaker with him, planning for every possible defence and going over your statements to make sure he has everything he needs. The first few days are boring— long speeches against and for the states defense, along with a multitude of images from crime scenes. On about the fourth day, Matthew calls again, letting you know he’s presenting your evidence next.

Frank watches you like a hawk when it comes to the day, waiting for you to show some kind of sign to what your feeling, but you just sit in front of the TV, head in his lap, waiting for his face to pop up on the screen.

“The trial of the infamous crime boss Robert Gnucci is just minutes away from commencing its fifth and final day, and reports say the State have finalised their investigation and are ready to proceed. The lesser known firm Nelson & Murdock will also be providing statements today, representing an anonymous witness who corroborates the Gnucci’s ties to a multitude of assassinations, assaults, drug rings and extortion around the country. If so, this trial could be the end to New Yorks latest string of organised crime.” The presenter recites, and you close your eyes, focusing on the way Franks hand threads lightly through your hair. “We are now going live to the trial of the century, where lead FBI agent Dinah Madani’s representative Matthew Murdock will present the case against.”

“We don’t have to watch it.” Frank says, his hand still moving through your hair.

“Yeah, we do.”

“Why? Results will be the same at the end. Besides, the jury can take hours. Days.” You turn on your back, looking straight up at him.

“But this is the one that matters, right? This is my stuff— the things I said. I want to hear what the judge says. What… what people say about it.”

“About you.” He reads your mind, and you roll your eyes. “Fuck what they think.”

“Didn’t you care? When all this was happening to you— you didn’t care what people said about you?” He sighs, tugging on your shirt making you sit up. When you shuffle enough, he hooks his arms under you and pulls you into his lap, letting your head rest against his chest.

“This was different for me. I did what I did because I wanted to. I needed to… I needed them dead. It was a choice I made, and at the time nothing else mattered but killing them.” You keep looking at the TV, where Dinah is sitting on the stand, being sworn in. “I knew what people said, the shit they called me. I even read about myself— they put my face in all the papers. I couldn’t avoid it.”

“That didn’t eat at you?”

“I wasn’t in my head. Maybe if it was now, it might of stayed with me. But no, I didn’t give a fuck what people thought.” You nod, burying yourself closer to him. “You shouldn’t either. People will say all kinds of shit for the next few months, but it blows over. It always does. They’ll get some new Avenger, or another gang, and people won’t remember what they were so worried about. People don’t even recognise me anymore.”

“I know you’re right.” You turn your head straight to watch the TV again. “Still. I want to watch.”

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It goes for hours. Frank listens to Murdock talk for hours on end, so much that he thinks his ears will bleed next time he picks up the phone. There’s case after case, body and body. It’s almost never ending, but you watch the whole thing. Franks not sure if you even blink.

He expects some kind of reaction, seeing the photos of bodies and hearing what Bobby’s lawyers were saying about you. About what you did. Their whole angle was that you acted alone, and that you did what you did because you wanted to. Out of loyalty. It made him even more convinced he should of just killed him where he stood.

Then it’s Murdocks turn, and when it hits 2pm he’s still talking. Frank gets up and leaves you on the couch, figuring it’s been hours since you’d eaten something. He also isn’t sure he could sit and listen to anyone else talk about you like they know you. At least Murdock seemed like he was winning something.

“Frank! It’s over.” You call from the couch, and Frank abandons whatever he was about to make. “They said the jury’s going to decide.”

“Might be days from now. Come eat something.” He encourages.

When you finally drag yourself off the couch and come over to the table, Frank shoves a sandwich in your direction before answering the buzzing phone on the table.

“Yeah?” Your head perks up, eyes wide with hope when he hands the phone to you. “Corinne.”

He watches you talk, pacing up and down the small expanse of the kitchen. You ask about Sam, who’s at school, and he hears something about a soccer team he wants to join. You nearly cry, but hide it well in your voice. Corinne must start asking about the trial because you tell her you’ve been watching all day, but you haven’t heard anything. You look up at him when the call ends, and he can tell it’s not just today that hangs heavy on your shoulders.

“He okay?” Frank asks when you chuck the phone on the counter and run your hands through your hair.

“Amazing. apparently. Wants to play soccer.” You laugh dryly. “I’m such an asshole. I should be happy he’s happy, but all I can think of is how in a months time I’ll rip him away from whatever life he’s made up there.”

“He wants to be with you— where you are. He’ll be okay.”

“No. He… he wants to see me, but he doesn’t want to come back here.” Frank leans forward, dipping his head to look at you.

“He said that?”

“It’s more what he isn’t saying. He wants me to— us to come visit.” You sigh, and shake your head. “I’m not… I’m not his mother. I can’t take him away from that, from that safety net. He’s in school— making friends. He has a life there. A good one, one I didn’t think he’d get a shot at. And the longer I leave him there, the worse it will be when I take him away.”

“Kids are resilient.” Frank offers, and your shoulders slump.

“I don’t want him to have to be. He’s been through enough. I was worried he’d be all kinds of fucked up but he sounds so…happy. Would I really be doing the right thing if I took him back?” Frank has no idea what you’re trying to tell him, and the last thing he would do is tell you what to do with your own brother. Hell, he even likes the kid. “Corinne said… she said that she’d look after him.”

“What?” Frank moves around the table, reaching out for your hand.

“I don’t know how to raise a kid. I don’t even know if I can; but I know I want him to be happy. And safe. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. You know that’s all I wanted for him, right?”

“Of course. I know, and you got him out. He is.” He tucks you to his chest, moving to stand between your legs and hold you closer.

“Yeah, he is. He’s happy and safe and playing fucking soccer—“ You choke on a sob, and Franks hands fist in your hair. Like if he tries, he could pull you so close and take it all away. Fix it for you. “I can’t fuck this up for him. I can’t. He can’t come back here.”

“Shh. Shh, you’re okay.” He holds your face, thumbs gently swiping away your tears. “You’re okay.”

“She said he could stay.” Your voice is so small, Frank feels his chest crack at the sound. “Am I selfish if I let him? I… I don’t know how— I’m not his mom. I’m not. I can’t be my mom—“

“Hey. Look at me.” Your eyes are rimmed with tears, but you look. “You are not selfish, and you aren’t his mom.”

“I should act like it though, shouldn’t I? It’s my fault that he—“

“No, it isn’t. I would hate for my kids to of taken that shit on if I wasn’t there for them. You got him out, and kept him safe. All that shit you did? It was worth it. It was fucking worth it. He’s out. And you were always going to figure something out for him, because you’re not selfish.” Your eyes were shut, still blinking out tears. “I’m not gonna lie and say I wouldn’t love to have the kid here. He makes you happy, and he grew on me a little.”

“Really?” You open your eyes, eyebrows knitted together.

“Course he did. But raisin’ a kid— that is a full time gig, and it’s not one you signed up for. My life isn’t one I’d wish on anyone, and especially not for a kid like him.” He feels the wet stain of your tears on his hands, and he bends down to kiss them away. “Baby if you gotta go to him, I understand. My life won’t get less complicated. Yours could.”

“It won’t.” You say, voice strained and feather soft. “And I don’t want it to. If my life being complicated means you’re still in it, I wouldn’t change a thing. I know what I am now. Who I am. And I know I’m not what he needs.”

“You’re family. Nothin’ changes that.” Nodding, your bright red eyes stare up at him, and Frank knows his heart still works, that it’s still beating in his chest but when you look at him like that he swears it isn’t there for a second. “Whatever you choose, I’m with you.”

“Mhmm.” You say, and Frank thinks you’ll keep talking but instead you just kiss him, shutting yourself up. Franks happy to give you the distraction, calming your breathing by taking control, hands cupping your face with a newfound strength, anchoring you both to each other.

He thinks he could spend an eternity here— your mouth was addictive. Constantly surprising him, he could never pick how you would kiss him back. Sometimes it was messy and desperate, teeth and tongue fighting each other, and you’d match him with a strength only you could push him back with. Other times, like now, it was something more. Way more than he deserved, and more than he thought he was capable of giving someone. Full of something golden— something that turned his blood red hot and surging through his veins.

He knew what it was, but up until a few weeks ago he didn’t have the balls to admit it. He knew it was love, probably way earlier than he should of, but all that mattered was he knew it now, and he’d chase it to the ends of the god damn world if he had to.

Your phone buzzed on the table, and you pulled away, tears now dry on your face. Frank looked at it, seeing it wasn’t Murdock calling, but the other guy he worked with.

“Why’s Foggy calling?” You looked up at Frank after grabbing the phone, and Franks stomach dropped.

You answered the phone, listening intently, never taking your eyes off him.

“What are you saying?” You said after a while, sliding out from in front of Frank to start pacing around the table. “What?!”

“What’s he saying?” Frank follows after you but you wave him off, still trying to listen to the rambling on the other end of the line. Even Frank can hear how much he’s talking, even if he can’t decipher a word of it.

“I… okay. Thanks. Tell— yeah. Okay.” Your voice is small, and Frank stops your pacing with his hands, holding your shoulders as he pulls the phone from your ear. Your eyes are wide, staring up at him, showing nothing of what you just heard.

“Tell me what happened.” Frank says into the phone, his voice trained and hard.

“They… Frank, they found him not guilty. Bobby is free.”

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“Stop stalling. Do your fucking job.” You hear Frank in the other room, probably yelling at Matt. You don’t have the heart or the energy to tell him to calm down, and you just try to tune it out to focus on your own phone call.

“You are still there?” Corinne says through the line, snapping your attention back to her.

“Yeah, sorry. What were you saying?” You try your best to keep your voice high, but she seems to read right through it.

“It’s okay. I didn’t know if I should call… I just wish there was something I could do for you.” You can tell why Sam likes her so much.

“Trust me, you are doing more than enough.” You shut the door as Frank starts to talk louder, wanting to distract yourself. “How is he?”

“He’s a little angel. I’m watching him right now, kicking around the ball in the backyard. Him and Nikolai never leave each others side.” If you close your eyes, you can nearly see it. “They’ve been good for each other. I didn’t think either of them would settle so quickly, given… well, you know. But, they seem to have bonded.”

“Hm.” She speaks with such warmth— an open heartedness that you think only comes with being a mother. “I’m glad.”

“You are welcome here anytime, you know. The police said you could come, if you needed to leave the city. We have had no problems, no questions— like nothing had ever happened.” Frank opens the door softly, poking his head in. “If you would feel safer here…”

“Thank you, Corinne. Really. I… I would love that, but I can’t leave Fr— here. I can’t leave everything like it is.” You think if you could see her, she would be giving you a knowing smile.

“Of course.”

“I thought about what you said.” Frank closes the door behind him, walking over to you and sliding his hands around your stomach. “About having Sam stay.”

“You don’t think about that right now. You have to sort out you— please. Don’t worry. He is safe, and happy. The future will come as it is meant to.” Franks head rests on your shoulder, warmth wrapping around you like a blanket. “I will call you later, yes? The boys are hungry and I am worried they’ll eat through my drywall if I don’t feed them.”

“I wouldn’t put it past them.” Laughing, you feel at least a small weight rise of your chest. “Thank you.”

“Take care of yourselves.” Before you can figure out how she knew Frank was listening, the phone goes dead.

“You done yelling at Matt?” You say, and Frank drags you onto the bed in one tug, the air leaving your lungs as he wraps you into him.

“No.” He grumbles behind your ear. “You alright?”

“No.” He doesn’t say anything, just holds you a little tighter. “Did Matt say—“

“Nothing. He said nothing. Nothing he can do about this.” You squeeze your eyes shut. “You should take her up on it.”

“What?”

“Go to Florida. See Sam.” You try to twist on his arms, but he doesn’t let you budge an inch. “Calm down. I’m not saying forever. But Murdock said—“

“You said he didn’t say anything.” He grumbles something again, words lost in the mess of your hair he’s buried himself in.

“Nothin’ useful. Said you wouldn’t be safe in New York, and if it was up to him, he’d get you out of here until he can appeal.”

“We talked about this. I want to be wherever you are. I can handle myself.”

“I know, baby. I know that. You don’t need a babysitter. Which is why you should go to Florida.”

This time, he lets you roll over, faces almost touching. His eyes are closed, and no matter how many times you’ve seen him this close you still find it just as intriguing. Like a marble statue, the urge to reach out and run your fingers over his skin is too tempting, brushing over the scars on his cheek.

“What will you do? Will you come with me?” He keeps his eyes closed, his jaw relaxing under your soft touches.

“Yeah. I’ll come when it’s done.” You furrow your eyebrows, and he opens his eyes like he senses it. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“When it’s done?” You know what he means. It’s exactly like him— to think he has to do this. To take this loss on his shoulders, to think that he needs to do it. To fix this. “Frank—“

“Stop.” He says softly, but his face is hard. “I never should of let this go. Should of finished it in Washington.”

“That wasn’t up to you, and it’s not now. Whatever you’re thinking of doing…”

“You know what I’m doing. I’m doing the one thing that we both know will end this. The one thing that I know works.” You swallow hard.

“You’re gonna kill him.” Frank doesn’t nod, but he watches your face for your reaction. “Why would I need to go to Florida?”

“You can’t be anywhere near here. If Madani finds out, and she will— you need an alibi that isn’t me.”

“You’ve actually thought this through.” He laughs dryly, then leans forward to kiss you quickly.

“Don’t look so surprised.” Frank’s hands run down your body, his eyes tracking, watching the way you shiver when his rough hands graze over skin. Finding your hips, he tugs you closer, and you swing your leg over his torso languidly. Hair falls in front of your face that he dutifully tucks behind your ears, thumb tracing your eyebrow. “Do this for me, and let me do this for you.”

Now he’s below you, your own hands drift to his shoulders. He holds your hips, thumbs rubbing circles onto places they’ve become so familiar with its nearly impossible to remember a time they didn’t belong to him. Like he’s etched himself there, shadows of his hands always waiting for him to come home.

“I’ll pack tomorrow.” You say, and he tugs you down, kissing you hungrily. You give— let him lead you like he does so well. You know what you’re residing to, what he’s going to do. It’s what he was doing before he found you, and what he’s probably going to do for the rest of his life.

He wants this, by the way he’s moving your hips and groaning into your mouth, the answer you gave him is the one he wants. It goes against what your logical mind is shouting at you— that he’s putting himself in danger for you, again. He groans again when your hands tug on his hair.

He wants this, you hear in your brain again. He wants this. He was who he was— you’d never change Frank, and you didn’t want to. He was a protector, a brick wall you’d put your shoulder out trying to break down. He was hard and stubborn, shattered and glued back together a million times over, and when he wanted something, he did everything he could to get it. He wanted this— to do this for you. Take care of you. It was a part of him that would probably get him killed, but it also happened to be a part you treasured with everything you had. The part that made you feel safe.

“Good girl.” He says lowly, voice vibrating through you. The words make you both smile, then he pulls you underneath him and you’re lost again, and nothing else matters.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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