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autumnsart22 · 3 years

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Oikawa x reader ch. 12

Sorry for the angst this chapter 🤭 Hope you still enjoy though!

Kuroo flicked me hard on the cheek. “Wrong again! Damn, this isn’t that hard.”

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “Chemistry is so boring!”

Kenma looked up from across the table briefly from his game. “I wouldn’t say that, Y/n-san. Kuroo is a chemistry nerd. He loves it.”

Bokuto laughed loudly in agreement, Akaashi snapping at him to get back to work.

It was Sunday afternoon, and I sat at Kenma’s dining room table with Kuroo, Bokuto, Akaashi, and Kenma. Exams were coming up, and all of us were cramming as much studying in as possible. I had decided to tag along with the captains and setters of Fukurodani and Nekoma, knowing that they could help me with some of my work.

I let out a pathetic moan, shoving my science homework aside. “I can’t! My brain is fried, it’s too much!”

“Take a break,” Akaashi suggested. “Come back to it later.”

I sighed, sliding out of my chair. “How about I don’t come back to it later?”

Kuroo chuckled. “I hope you know you’re never going to pass your chemistry exam, sorry.”

I flipped him off, turning to Kenma. “Wanna play Mario Kart?”

The Nekoma setter glanced up from his game, eyeing me. “Really?”

“Dude I love Mario Kart, why wouldn’t I want to play?” The long haired boy moved faster than I had ever seen. “Ok, I’ll set it up.”

Bokuto whined. “Akaaashiiii please let me play? I don’t want to write this anymore.”

Akaashi sighed. “Bokuto-san, you’re failing English. You need to study if you’re going to pass.”

“But--!”

“Fine, but only twenty minutes.”

Bokuto whooped, and I covered my mouth to hide my smile. I noticed red staining Akaashi’s cheeks, and I glanced at Kuroo. The black haired captain was smirking as he surveyed the two Fukurodani players, and I resolved to ask him about it later.

Bokuto and I raced to the living room, where Kenma sat cross legged on the rug. A few controls were already laid out, and I positioned myself next to Kenma.

As we played, we got insanely loud, even Kenma. The short boy won every round, but I got kind of close on our third game, which caused him to start shouting louder than I had ever heard. Bokuto was the worst, flipping off the road more than actually driving and laughing giddily as he collided with other cars.

After our fifth round playing, I threw down my control in defeat. “Dammit Kenma, can’t you just let me win one??” He smiled a little. “No, definitely not.”

“Are you guys done?” Kuroo called from the kitchen.

I scrambled from my spot on the floor, grabbing Bokuto’s arm. “Time to get back to work!”

The Fukurodani captain groaned but followed me back into the kitchen, Kenma trailing behind.

As I took a seat at the table, my phone dinged. I pulled it from my pocket, feeling my stomach leap as I saw Oikawa’s name across the screen. I opened the message, smiling a little as I read it.

Oikawa

Hey Y/n-chan! R u free this saturday?

Y/n

Ya why?

Oikawa

There’s apparently a big volleyball club party happening in the city

Y/n

Oh cool with all the local teams?

Oikawa

Yeah, and its at this big club 😱

Y/n

Sure ill come :)

Oikawa

Do you have a ride? I can drive you

Y/n

R u sure? I can drive myself

Oikawa

No I want to drive u

Y/n

Haha ok if you say so

Oikawa

🤩

Ill pick you up at 6 on saturday

I laughed a little, setting my phone down, only to find everyone at the table staring at me.

“What?” I asked.

“Who were you just texting?” Kuroo asked, and I blushed furiously.

“No one.”

“Hm...right.”

Before I could blink, Bokuto snatched my phone off the table, clicking the screen and reading the last text from Oikawa.

“OHOHOOOO, Mr. Pretty Boy from the beach!” He yelled.

“Seijoh’s captain?” Kuroo asked.

I groaned. “Stoppppp, he was just asking about a party this weekend.”

“Then why are you blushing so much, Y/n-san?”

Everyone at the table laughed and I buried my burning face in my hands.

✨✨✨✨

Apparently the party at the club was going to be huge, even bigger than the beach one. Karasuno was going, as well as Nekoma and Fukurodani.

I debated for way too long on what I should wear, eventually facetiming Kiyoko for support. She was wearing a glittery gold cocktail dress, so I didn’t feel bad about wearing my skin tight black body con dress.

I usually didn’t wear much makeup, but I ended up putting on shimmery eyeshadow, eyeliner, and lip gloss, dressing the whole look down by wearing my adidas sneakers.

At 5:46, I was so nervous, I felt like I was going to puke. I paced around my room, tugging on my dress and second guessing everything I was doing. God, I needed to calm the fuck down. It was just Oikawa, and it wasn’t even like we were going alone.

I looped my bag over my shoulder, jogging down the stairs. I snatched my phone from the charger on the kitchen table and scrolled through my snapchat. Kiyoko was already at the club, proven by a video on her story of Tanaka and Nishinoya dancing together in the middle of a crowd, lights flashing different colors in a confusing blur.

As I clicked over to instagram, I heard a knock on the door and froze. I practically fell out of my chair as I scrambled over to the door, flinging it open.

Oikawa leaned against the side of the house, dressed in jeans, black shirt with a matching black bomber jacket, a pair of glasses sliding down his nose. My heart thumped, and I pressed my hands together to keep them from shaking.

“Hey,” I said, smiling.

Oikawa looked up and froze, eyes wide. “Y-You-” His gaze moved down my body, his lips partying slightly as he let out a breath. “You look great.”

I bit my lip and laughed a little. “Thanks. You do too.”

He raked his hand through his hair, looking slightly flustered. Clearing his throat, he smiled radiantly. “Are you ready?”

“Yup! How long is the drive?” We walked together to the car, and he opened the door to the passenger side for me. I tugged down my dress as I slid onto his leather seat, and Oikawa set up directions on his phone to the club.

“How is the rest of the team getting there?” I asked.

Oikawa shrugged. “No clue. I think most of them are hitching Ubers so they don’t have to worry about getting drunk.”

“Very responsible,” I grinned.

“Speaking of responsibility…” he whipped a joint and passed it to me with a lighter. I took it, sticking the end in my mouth, lighting it, and taking a large hit. “Hey save some for me!” He cried.

As we drove, top down, we blasted Harry Styles at full volume. I stood up with my hands in the air, the night air whipping across my skin and making me feel like I was flying.

It was a way shorter drive than I expected, but parking took forever. Cars were lined up all down all the surrounding blocks, and we had to find a spot a few blocks away. As we walked, Oikawa smoked the remainder of the joint and we poked fun at each other.

As we approached the club, there was a line of people out the door and down the block. I groaned when I saw it, but Oikawa spotted Iwaizumi and a few other Seijoh players closer to the door, so we slid down the line to be with them.

“Woah, Y/n, you’re looking fine as hell!” Yuda smirked. I felt Oikawa stiffen beside me, but I laughed out loud.

“Thanks Yuda, that means a lot.”

As we got closer to the doors, music echoed into the night, practically shaking the sidewalk. My adrenaline was spiking, and I bounced on my heels in excitement.

Iwaizumi looked a bit more stoic, and I leaned over to him to whisper in his ear. “Hey Iwa, how are you doing? Is your mom ok?”

Iwaizumi smiled and touched my arm, nodding. “Yeah, thanks for asking. She got back from the hospital yesterday, and she’s doing a lot better.”

“Oh that’s great to hear!”

He nodded, and I looped one of my arms with his, the other with Oikawa on the other side. “I’m glad you guys are here with me,” I said, smiling. “I’m glad I met you.”

“Aw, chibi-chan, no need to get so sentimental,” Oikawa smirked, poking my shoulder.

I pushed him lightly, but sighed. “I’m serious. I really thought that Aoba Johsai was going to be a terrible fit, but I’m so lucky to have you guys as friends.”

I didn’t notice the slightly pained expression on Oikawa’s face, or the pitying one Iwa shot his friend, practically screaming friendzoned.

Iwaizumi ruffled my hair. “I’m happy you ended up coming to Seijoh and becoming our manager too. I wish you had joined earlier so we could have spent more time with you in high school.”

Oikawa opened his mouth to add something, but we reached the front of the line. By that point, the music was so loud that we had to shout to be heard over it. The bouncers at the front waved us through after we showed our student IDs, marking us as part of a local volleyball team. Apparently one of the local players had rented out the entire club for this party.

As I entered the club with Iwaizumi and Oikawa on either side, I was momentarily overwhelmed. The huge dance floor was covered with people, colored lights flashing wildly across their writhing figures, smoke hovering in a cloud over the entire scene. The music pounded so hard, it was like I was feeling it in my chest.

My body automatically began to move, dragging me towards the mass of people. I grabbed Oikawa’s hand, pulling him along behind me as we entered the chaos.

“Call on Me” by Starley and Ryan Riback began to pound through the speakers, and I jumped up and down wildly, holding Oikawa’s hands and laughing until I was practically wheezing.

“Y/n-chan?!” I looked over to see Daichi and Suga emerging from the crowd, both of them looking a little breathless. I laughed giddily and hugged both of them, still dancing to the music. Oikawa also reintroduced himself, which was a little awkward over the volume of the music, but they were all civil.

“There’s a karaoke bar downstairs!” Suga yelled over the music, having to repeat himself a few times for me to finally hear him.

“Karaoke? Ooooh, fun. Oikawa, wanna go?”

“Yeah sure, and I can show you my amazing singing skills!”

“You’ve already shown me, and they were terrible, Oikawa-chan.”

“So mean!”

We made our way out of the crowd together, wandering through some twisting hallways and getting lost multiple times before we finally found the stairs. A huge group of people were gathered down by the karaoke machine, and I spotted Kuroo, Bokuto, Akaashi, and Hinata among them.

“Hey guys!” I cried, joining them. Hinata glared at Oikawa when he noticed him, but for once I was glad Kageyama wasn’t with him. At least that tension could be avoided for the time being.

“Y/n-chan!” Bokuto crushed me in a hug. “You ready for some karaoke?”

I smirked, tossing my hair. “Of course! Not to brag, but I’m a pretty good singer.” It was partially the truth; my mom had forced me to take singing lessons throughout junior high, and I had kept it up a bit in high school, so my voice was decent. Definitely not what could be considered very good though.

Bokuto ended up singing a slow Adele song to Akaashi, completely wrecking it with his horrendous voice. The Fukurodani setter seemed touched though, so I didn’t make fun of the captain that much.

I didn’t notice Oikawa disappear from beside me as a few more songs went by, but he reappeared after only a few minutes, grabbing my arm and tugging me to his chest.

“Wanna do a duet?”

I laughed. “Of what song?”

“Juice, by Lizzo,” he smirked. “Basically describes me, so it’s perfect!”

“But that’s not a duet--!”

I heard the beginning of the song starting on the speakers, and my eyes went wide as saucers. “You already requested it?!”

He shrugged. “Yup! Now let's go!”

He practically dragged me to the front, where we were handed two microphones. Oikawa began to sing almost immediately, his confidence making up for his horrible voice. The ridiculous way he wriggled around made me instantly more comfortable, so I threw caution to the wind and became his backup singer.

“If I’m shining everybody wanna shine…” He belted out.

“Yeah I’m goals!” I screamed.

“I was born like this, don't even gotta try--” “Now you know!”

“I'm like chardonnay, get better over time.”

“So you know!”

“Heard you say I'm not the baddest, bitch, you lied!”

The song ended, and I wrapped an arm around his waist to keep from collapsing from laughter. We stumbled off the stage together, making our way back to Kuroo, Bokuto, Akaashi, and Hinata, who all applauded us as we approached.

“I have to send you this video, Y/n-chan! It’s classic,” Kuroo said, gesturing to his phone, where a video of Oikawa and I’s performance played.

“HA! Please do.”

Oikawa turned to me, checking his phone. “Iwa is wondering where I am, so I’m going to try and find him. Want to come?”

I nodded. “Yeah, just one sec. Can I meet you up there? I’ll call if I can’t find you.”

Oikawa nodded, flicking me on the nose. “Don’t get lost, chibi-chan.”

I ended up staying with Kuroo, Bokuto, and Akaashi for another ten minutes. Kenma had apparently flat out refused to go to the club, and Kuroo had decided not to force him. Akaashi handed me a few different drinks as I talked to them, so when I finally decided to head back upstairs, I was walking a little crookedly.

Miraculously, I found Iwaizumi almost the instant I got to the second floor. “Heyyy, Iwa!”

“Y/n-chan, there you are! Oikawa was just going to look for you,” he grabbed my arm so I wouldn’t stumble. “Damn, you’re wasted.”

“Do you know where Oikawa went? I-I want to find him--”

Iwaizumi gave me a knowing look, a small smile on his lips. “Yeah, he went that way. Just try not to say or do anything you’ll regret tomorrow. ”

I giggled, face flushing. “I’ll tryyy.”

Iwaizumi patted me on the head, pointing towards the crowd again. “He’s somewhere over that way. If you can’t find him after a few minutes, come back. I’ll be waiting right here, got it?”

I nodded, already turning away. All my fog filled brain could think of was finding Oikawa and telling him...something. Did I really want to confess how I felt? My sober brain screamed absolutely not, but my drunken head said YES.

The second I entered the crowd, it was like entering utter chaos. I was bumped from all sides by dancers who paid me no attention, the smoke in the air making everything hazy, the smell of sweat and marijuana reeking from everything. I could barely make out the faces of the people around me because of the darkness, the only lumination coming from the colored flashing lights above our heads.

I pushed on, not paying any attention to the people around me. My eyes scanned the dark shadows for a familiar figure, but it was too confusing to be able to tell who was who.

“Y/n!” I whirled around to see Kiyoko squeezing between two people, her gold dress flashing as she moved. She gripped my hands, a wide smile on her face. “I’m so glad I found you!”

“Kiyoko, how are you doing!”

“Good! This is hella fun!” Her usually reserved way of being had been completely overturned, probably by alcohol.

“I know right? Hey, have you seen Oikawa?”

Kiyoko’s glasses flashed. “Oh my god, yeah actually! He was just looking for you!” “Really? Which way did he go?”

She pointed, and I hugged her tightly. “Thanks! I’ll try and find you later, ok?”

She nodded, and I moved in the direction she had indicated. “Gas Pedal” by Sage the Gemini came on, and I laughed out loud as girls all around me began shaking their asses.

I pushed past a line of four people grinding on each other, and my heart leapt as I finally found Oikawa. He had ditched his jacket somewhere, and his hair was pushed back and messy as he danced. Iwaizumi and Kiyoko had said he was looking for me but…

I felt all the blood drain from my face as I watched a tall, skinny girl with long black hair wrap her arms around his neck, one of her hands trailing down his chest. He smirked down at her, eyes dark and greedy, and I took a step back. I suddenly felt cold stone sober, and my hands began to shake.

As I watched, unable to tear my eyes away, as the girl turned around and began grinding her ass against Oikawa, and he grabbed her hips.

The music pounded through my brain and I finally forced myself to move. Whirling around, I almost fell as I crashed into another person.

“Oh-sorry,” I gasped, looking up and blinking in surprise.

“Hello again.” The guy from the beach, with the serious expression and olive hair looked down at me. “Are you ok?” I swallowed, forcing back tears as I focused on the guy in front of me. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m so sorry, I think we’ve met but I don’t remember your name.”

“It’s Wakatoshi Ushijima.”

“Right! I’m Y/n L/n. It’s good to see you again, Ushijima.”

He nodded, eyes sweeping down my short dress, and he tilted his head. “Do you want to get out of this crowd?”

I paused, feeling something in my chest tighten. No, I wanted to turn around and smack the girl Oikawa was with in the face. I wanted to shake my captain and ask him why didn’t he look at me like that?

But there was another attractive guy right in front of me, and he was looking at me with a slightly glazed expression. I smiled up at him through my lashes, licking my lips and nodding. “Let’s go.” Ushijima’s hand was fucking gigantic as I pulled him through the crowd, keeping my head down so hopefully no one I knew would recognize me.

I noticed Iwaizumi by the wall where I left him, and I walked by quickly, praying he didn’t see me with Ushijima. I told myself it didn’t matter even if he did; I was allowed to have as much fun as I wanted. I had no obligations to anyone.

It didn’t take very long to find a hallway away from the party where no one was, and I glanced up at Ushijima. He stared down at me, his eyes intense, and I leaned toward him, my hands going to his chest.

The second I moved, his broad hands wrapped around my waist and pushed me up against the wall. I gasped as his mouth crashed against mine, and I squeezed my eyes shut, hands running through his hair. I shoved all thoughts of Oikawa from my mind and let myself get swept away.

Oikawa POV:

I moved through the crowd of people, eyes scanning for Y/n. I hadn’t seen her in awhile, and I was suddenly worried.

The tall girl with the black hair tugged on my arm. “Baby, I’m not done with you,” she purred.

I gave her a death glare, tugging out of her grip. “Fuck off, that was a mistake. I’m looking for someone right now.”

She pouted, but I was already moving away. I spotted Iwa by the wall, and sauntered over to him. “Iwa-chan! You don’t look like you’re having much fun--” “Oikawa, did Y/n find you?” He said, eyes serious.

“Huh? No, I was looking for her…” “She came up here asking about you, so I pointed her in the right direction.” “I haven’t seen her, but she’s probably around here somewhere.” I could see clearly something else was on his mind. “What’s wrong?”

“She walked by just a second ago. She looked upset and....she was with Ushijima.”

I felt my stomach drop. Oh god no.

“Which way did they go?” I said, by voice completely blank of emotion.

Iwaizumi pointed, and I began to move quickly, shoving people out of the way in my haste.

I ran down a hallway, turning the corner and feeling my entire body go completely numb as I finally spotted her.

She was pushed up against the wall, hands running through his hair as she kissed fucking Ushijima. The tall ace of Shiritorizawa had one hand on her waist, the other running along her ass as he let out a low groan.

I moved without thinking, so angry I could barely see. I ripped Ushijima off of Y/n, shoving him as hard as I could, so he stumbled backward. He was bigger and stronger than me, but I had the element of surprise. While he was still off balance, I charged him, knocking him on his back and punching him as hard as I could in the face. He grunted, and I felt something crack under my knuckles.

Y/n was screaming behind me, trying to pull me off, but it just made me more furious. Was she trying to defend him?

Ushijima was attempting to cover his face, but I began to slam his head into the floor over and over.

“Stop Oikawa, you’re going to kill him!!!” I felt a pair of strong arms grab me around the neck in a chokehold, dragging me off of Ushijima and throwing me against the wall. Iwaizumi pounded me on the chest, his eyes furious. “Look what you’re doing, Shittykawa! You’re scaring her.”

My eyes moved to Y/n, her eyes filled with tears and her hands over her mouth in horror. Ushijima lay on the ground a few feet away, face covered in blood. All I could see was him kissing her.

Iwaizumi let go of me, and I slammed my fist into the wall as hard as I could, feeling my skin tear and knuckles crack. Y/n let out a sob, and I turned and strode away down the hall. I was too angry to be here anymore.

As I walked away, I heard Iwaizumi behind me. “I’ll take care of Ushiwaka. You go stop Oikawa before he does something else completely stupid.”

Y/n POV:

What had I done? Ushijima lay on the ground, his face completely fucked up, and Oikawa stalked away down the hall, blood dripping from his knuckles. It was utterly my fault.

I was terrified, but not of Oikawa. No matter how angry he was, I didn’t think he would do anything to hurt me. I decided not to second guess that assumption as I spirited down the hall after him. Now was not the time to be afraid.

“Oikawa!” I yelled, but he didn’t pause. “Oikawa, stop!” I grabbed his wrist, and he whirled around, eyes furious.

“Get the fuck off me,” he snarled.

“No! What the hell is wrong with you?”

“With me?” His eyes were wild as he raked his hands violently through his hair. “You’re the one who was about to fuck Ushijima!”

I gaped at him. “I wasn’t...wait, you know him?”

“He’s the captain of Shiratorizawa!” He yelled and I felt my stomach drop. Oh god, I didn’t know…

“I-I didn’t--” “Who gives a fuck! Who it was doesn’t matter anyway!” “Then why do you care so much if I kissed him?” I shouted, clenching my fists. “You don’t give a fuck about me, so why the hell did you have to beat the shit out of him if it wasn’t because of who he is?”

“I don’t give a fuck about you?” Rage was boiling beneath every word.

“No! Go back to that dumb bitch you were with before if you want to feel better about youself!”

“What the fuck are you even talking about?” He snarled. Realization suddenly dawned in his eyes, almost instantly replaced with fury. “Maybe I will! Even she’s not as much of a whore as you.”

I felt like I had been slapped. A whore? That’s what he thought of me? Tears pricked behind my eyes. “You fucking asshole.” I stepped back. “You act like you’re better than everyone all the time, like you’re so perfect, but really you’re just a piece of shit!”

“God, you couldn’t possibly be any worse,” he hissed, eyes dark.

Tears spilled over my cheeks, and took another step back. “I-I am done with you. Stay the fuck out of my life.”

I whirled around, not looking back as I ran down the hall.

The rest of the night passed in a blur. I somehow found Kiyoko and Daichi, but I was crying too hard to explain exactly what had happened. Apparently, Karasuno had been about to leave anyway, so I left with an entourage of tall, angry boys surrounding me like bodyguards. Yamaguchi held my hand tightly, and Kageyama looked like he was about to murder whoever had made me cry.

I noticed Suga talking to Iwa as we left, and an ambulance pulled up in front of the club. Hopefully Ushijima was ok. I couldn’t find it in myself to care very much.

Asahi drove Kiyoko, Tsukki, Yamaguchi, Tanaka, Nishinoya and I home, but I was silent the whole ride back, entering some form of shock.

Kiyoko walked me up to my house when we got dropped off, holding my hand so tightly it hurt. “Y/n, Suga told me what happened. Breathe ok? I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think.”

I felt my body begin to shake. “K-Kiyoko...I think I just…” I clamped a hand over my mouth so I wouldn’t throw up. “I think I just completely ruined my friendship with the guy I’m in love with.”

My friend looked momentarily shocked, but she began to shake her head. “No, no, that’s not true, Y/n-chan. He’ll forgive you.”

“No,” I began to sob. “He thinks I’m some sort of horrible slut. Oh god, he hates me.”

Kiyoko hugged me tightly, quickly opening the door to my house and pulling me inside. “Ok, ok, it’s ok just get it out.”

She led me upstairs, helping me strip out of my party clothes, washing off my face and gently brushing out my hair. For once, I was happy that my parents were so busy most nights.

It was 4 in the morning by the time she ushered me into my bed, curling up next to me and hugging my tightly. I fell asleep to her murmuring in my ear, but I couldn’t help but think how much better it would feel if Oikawa was there instead.

Chapter 11

#oikawa #oikawa tooru #haikyuu oikawa #oikawa fic #oikawa tōru #fanfiction #fandom #fanfic #anime #haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#haikyu x reader #xreader #angst #oikawa fluff

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the-hopeless-haze · 4 years

Text

Someone You Have to Let In (Being Alive Chapter 7)

A/N: this is another long one - like 5-6k words? IDK! Someone needs to stop me lol. This chapter gave me so much grief so I hope you enjoy :)

Warnings: mentions of past abuse, suspect gets handsy; par for the course for SVU episode

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Rafael walks up the stairs to the precinct, his pulse racing and his heart pounding in his ears. Even his stomach feels queasy, and he can’t remember the last time he was ever this anxious. Olivia called him at one in the morning, saying she needed him there to talk about where they could get with this case. She never mentioned you - and he knew you were set up to be the thirst trap. Why wouldn’t she say anything about how you were? All he can think is the worst, and of course, she wouldn’t say anything to him. She may have suspected something was going on between the two of you, but she was never going to push his buttons and call him out on it over the phone. But that also meant that if you were hurt... he’d be the last to know. You hadn’t called him on your own, either, so something must have happened.

And sure enough, when he gets to the bullpen you’re at your desk, alone, huddled in a shock blanket, staring listlessly at the walls. Your makeup is done up like a working girl’s, all heavy dark eyeshadow and red lipstick, and he can see peeks of a tight sequined black dress underneath the blanket and torn fishnets on your legs. Eventually, your gaze meets his and you furrow your brow in confusion as he walks quicker toward you.

“What’s the matter with you?” you ask.

“What's the matter with me? (Y/n), what the hell? Why didn’t you call me?” he asks frantically. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Rafael,” you say as he kneels down in front of you. “Be quiet. They’re going to hear you and Sonny’s gonna be back any minute.“

“You think I care about that? What the hell happened?”

“Nothing! I’m fine. Olivia just didn’t want me in the room with him. It’s okay,” you mutter, shrugging. “I’m only wearing the blanket because I’m cold. Nothing happened to me.”

Rafael walks over to you and kneels down in front of you, peeling the blanket off to reveal fresh bruises and scratches, the imprints of another man’s fingertips and nails brandishing the skin of your shoulders. “Nothing happened to you? Bullshit. What’s all over your arms, cariño?”

“He got handsy. What did you think was going to happen? But do you honestly think Olivia would let anything worse than that happen to me? I’m okay,” you say defensively as tears build up in your eyes.

“You don't look okay! Why are you crying, then? (Y/n)--"

“Why are you yelling at me?” you cut him off, your voice straining as you wipe under your eyes with the back of your hands, black streaks of eyeliner smudging onto them. “Jesus Christ. You’re making me feel like I'm the one you're prosecuting. Go do your job. Don’t worry about me.”

But he did worry, now, because you had somehow figured out how to weasel into his life even though the No Vacancy sign was flashing. And it doesn’t even feel like a choice, it feels more like he owes it to you, and he’s honestly not sure how much he likes that. Still, though, he presses his lips to yours and takes off his suit jacket, draping it around your shoulders, giving you something of him to comfort you and put over the wounds someone else caused you. And isn’t that all love is? A healing balm for the pain we’ve been caused?

Rafael swallows thickly. He can’t be bothered to think of that now. He cares about you, but he doesn’t love you. Right?

Okay then.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you. Stop crying,” he says, trying to level his voice.

You laugh a little, a few tears still rolling down your cheeks. “Wow. You could teach a class on comfort. Stop crying? Who knew that was all anyone had to say?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to do,” he whispers, reaching down and squeezing your hands.

“Hey. You got me to laugh. And anyway... It’s okay. I told you I’m fine.”

You don’t say anything else, and Rafael really doesn’t know what else to do, so he just kisses you, one of his hands leaving yours to smooth down your hair.

“I’m okay,” you whisper against his lips as you pull away. “You weren’t called here because of me. Go do your job.”

“(Y/n)—“

But he’s cut off from continuing because he hears the bullpen office door open and he glances up at you. “I told you Sonny was gonna be back,” you whisper, and your eyes are urging him to go but it’s too late. You’re still wearing his suit jacket and Rafael has your lipstick on his mouth. The unspoken “secret” is going to be spoken now, and fuck it, maybe it’s about time.

“Hey, (y/n), they didn’t have that tea you wanted so I got you a hot chocolate and... oh. I’m sorry. Am I interrupting something?” he says as he walks in, standing in front of your desk with a tray of hot drinks and a bag of pastries.

“No,” you say. “Rafael was just gonna go see what Liv needed.��

“I know that, but I mean...” His blue eyes dart between you and Rafael knowingly and he grins. “Guess you weren’t lying about the boyfriend just so I’d stop trying to set you up with my Fordham buddies.”

“No,” you say, winking at Rafael. “I deserve better than that, anyway. I like ‘em Harvard Law educated.”

Even Rafael has to laugh at that, especially when Carisi rolls his eyes as he puts the food down on his desk. “You got her dogging Fordham now, Barba? She used to be such a nice girl, too.”

“Mm. Rafael made me mean just like him,” you giggle, clearly having too much fun with this. “He’s an awful influence.”

“Well, damn. I guess Amanda was right. I mean, we all kinda figured, but... Amanda would’ve bet her whole life savings that something was going on. Well, good for you guys. You want me to keep my mouth shut, too, or...?”

“Can we trust you to?” you ask.

“Won’t even tell Sarge. Promise.”

“Mm. No. It’s okay, (y/n),” Rafael interjects was he glances at you. “I think it’s time we give up the charade, don’t you?”

“I’ve only been saying that for a good two months,” you tease, but you lean over and press your lips to the side of his mouth. Was this how you were going to be, now that you could show affection in front of them? Maybe this is part of why he wanted it under wraps; he didn’t want the squad to see just how much he had let you into his life. He has a reputation to uphold, and a lot of it was built on the fact that he came off as stoic, stern, and standoffish. And yet, with a simple touch, you destroyed that illusion and made it seem like the front that it was.

“Olivia’s going to be wondering where you are. I’m fine. Go,” you tell him, and he nods, squeezing your hand again before getting up and heading down the hallway to meet her.

The case seemed simple enough, although he needs a positive ID from the rape victims and the suspect wasn’t budging. He kept telling Amanda that you wanted it, and it’s all Rafael can do to not break through the glass and choke him out. And it’s not that Rafael was jealous, because he wasn’t. As long as you wanted him more than others, that was all that mattered, and he knows you’d never want this son of a bitch in a million years. But he’d never quite had the sympathy for upset significant others in these situations until now. Listening to this asshole talk in hypotheticals about what he’d do to you? Thank god you weren’t subjected to listen to this.

“Sorry for waking you up,” Olivia says. “But thank you for coming. I wanted to know what you thought when we brought him in.”

“It’s fine, Liv,” he says. “I don’t sleep anyway. Besides, it’s always good to get ahead. Is (y/n) set to testify? She’s going to need to, considering she was bait and...I know that can be difficult for her. I just want this airtight.”

“She’s just a little shaken right now. Did you talk to her when you came in?”

“Yes. You know what happened to her, though, when she was younger, don’t you? I just don’t think it’s fair to have her be the one who draws the suspects out like that, considering..."

Olivia’s eyes widen and she touches his shoulder, forcing him to look at her worried facial expression. “Did she say something to you? I know she can push herself too far sometimes, but I wouldn’t have allowed this if I thought she wasn’t able to handle it.”

“No. I think she can handle it. I just don’t think she should have to.”

Her hand squeezes his shoulder gently before letting go, and she gives him a tight smile. "I know. It's really sweet that you care so much, though, Rafael. I guess you really do have a soft spot for her, hm?"

"Oh Jesus Christ, Olivia. Just say that you know I've been seeing her outside of work,” he sighs exasperatedly.

Olivia laughs, her brown eyes gleaming. "I was wondering if you were ever going to tell me. Carisi catch you?"

"Maybe."

"So how long? Amanda thinks six months, but I wasn't sure."

Rafael snickers. "You need to keep her on a leash. But no. She's right. It's been about six months."

"Well, good for you, Rafael."

“So what happens now?”

“You take her home.”

“That’s it?”

“Yeah. That’s it.”

“You’re not upset?”

“Upset? Why would I be upset? I think you two are good for each other. You keep her grounded, she keeps you young.”

Rafael scoffs. “Nice armchair psychoanalysis.”

“Is that why you tried to keep it hidden, though? You thought I was going to be upset?”

“I don’t know. I’m a lot older—“

“Not my concern. If she's okay with it, who am I to intervene? She’s not someone I ever pictured you with, but... like I said. You’re good for each other, and I trust you to keep things in line. You have so far.”

“Maybe not, if everyone figured it out."

"Well, you may be careful to a fault, Rafael, but subtlety is not your strong suit."

"Do I want to know what that refers to?"

"Probably not," she says, her brown eyes teasing. "But I was sitting next to you at the bar a few weeks ago and that's when I knew without a shadow of a doubt."

It takes Rafael a minute to think back to what she might be thinking of - so what, he left abruptly? Amanda was the one who got you two in a cab together... and then he remembers his hands between your thighs and your hands between his, and he feels his face flush of its own accord. "I'm sorry--"

"Keep in mind that I have eyes, and this is fine with me, okay?" Olivia laughs. "You might have a tougher time with the D.A., though."

Rafael shrugs, willing his blush to cool down. "I'll deal with it when the time comes.”

Just then, Amanda and Nick come out from the interrogation room, and immediately Amanda’s saying, “Hey, what’s got Barba all flustered? (Y/n) in that dress too much for him?”

Rafael shoots Olivia a glare. “That leash? It needs to be about ten inches shorter.”

Olivia chuckles and looks at Amanda. “Cat’s out of the bag, Amanda. You were right. He just admitted it.”

“Son of a bitch,” Nick sighs. “I can’t believe I’m going to be out $100 for this shit.”

“You actually bet on us?” Rafael asks incredulously. “You two are unbelievable. I thought you weren’t supposed to gamble, Rollins?”

“It’s not gambling when you know you’ll win, is it?” Amanda grins. “Thanks for the $100, Barba.”

“Yeah, no problem,” he snarks.

“You charging him so we can get out of here?” Nick asks.

“Yeah. Attempted assault for now so we can book him,” Rafael says, nodding.

Rafael talks to the suspect’s lawyer and has a conversation that will give him a headache into tomorrow, but there isn’t much to be said when there’s footage of him grabbing you thanks to cameras set up outside the club. And for the first time, he gets to leave the precinct with you without staggering your departure times so the squad didn’t see you leave together. He's surprised at how nice it is, even if he could do without Amanda and Carisi's comments.

“I told you it wouldn’t be so bad if they knew. I honestly don’t think they care as much as you thought they were going to,” you say as you walk with him down the stairs, your hand in his. You’re still clad in his suit jacket, wearing it like it was yours now, even buttoning one of the buttons toward the top.

“Still. It’s not exactly appropriate that we’re seeing each other.”

“Yeah, I know. But thank you for coming around.”

Rafael doesn’t say anything, just hails a cab. You lean your head against his shoulder as you wait, your tousled hair brushing against his lips. “Are you sure you’re alright? I watched the footage and—“

“I’m fine, Rafael. Really. Bruises will heal.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

You’re about to answer but a cab pulls over and you get in wordlessly, Rafael following. He thinks you’re about to continue, but you don’t, you stay silent.

“(Y/n)? Talk to me,” he says gently after a few moments.

You draw in a breath, nodding slowly. “Yeah. I’ll be alright, honey. I mean, I had to expect that would happen. This is what happens when you’re the youngest female detective on the squad... and... let’s just say I look forward to getting older.”

“They can’t force you to go undercover like that. I can talk to—“

“No. You’re not talking to anyone for me, tough guy,” you say, smiling softly. “It’s not like that. I offered. I hate doing it, but...whenever I do, I just think about how I’m going to get away practically unscathed because I have a whole team of detectives watching out for me. What about all those girls who don’t have that? I’m doing it for them, so we get these pieces of shit off the street. It’s just... what gets to you is them looking at you like another piece of meat. That’s what haunts me, that’s what’s going to keep me up at night... but I’m okay.”

“It doesn’t sound like it! Jesus Christ.”

“It was worse doing it for homicide in Boston, looking into eyes that envisioned you dead,” you say, and Rafael feels a shiver run up his spine. “Believe me. I’ve had worse nights.”

“I just don’t think you should be doing it at all, though, given what happened to you—“

“It’s part of the job. It’s not the same. I expected this,” you murmur, and you’re silent for the rest of the ride, and you’re silent as you walk up to the apartment with him, and you’re silent as you take your makeup off in his bathroom, sullen tears slipping from your eyes down your cheeks. Rafael stands in the doorway, feeling that pit in his stomach grow stronger.

“Cariño? Why are you crying? Did I push you too far? I’m sorry.” He walks in, coming to stand next to you.

“It’s... the rape. Sometimes I still feel like I’ll never get over it.”

“Oh, bebita,” he exhales, his heart breaking a little, you seeping in through the cracks. In his career, he dealt with many victims of horrible things, men and women of similar circumstances to yours. He never quite thought about what happened to them after he prosecuted their rapists, never thought of the havoc it could wreak even decades later, and now he feels terrible for it. Who was he to think his prosecution of their rapists did anything more than placate them momentarily? “Did I do something wrong? I shouldn’t have brought it up. I’m sorry.”

“No. It’s not you. You’ve been so good,” you say, wiping your eyes with the tissue, a few leftover streaks of mascara bleeding onto it. “I don’t know. I was always told I’d never be a detective by my superiors in the academy, that I’d be stuck doing desk work because I was ‘too emotional’ or ‘too damaged’. I lasted a week in the Crimes Against Children Unit in Boston. A fucking week! The only reason I ever made it out onto the field was because the homicide lieutenant was desperate for staff. He would alternate between keeping the training wheels on and then taking them off, and it was just sickening. I never felt like a real detective. And here, I mean... Olivia’s like that too, kind of, but at least she only makes me step back when it is absolutely necessary. I don’t know. Maybe I shouldn’t have been a detective. It would’ve been nice to have one part of my life this didn’t touch.”

“Come here,” Rafael says quietly, because he doesn’t know what else to say, and he lets you into his embrace, hugging you tightly into his chest. “You’re a great detective, and I’m not just saying that, (y/n). But you don’t have to do this to do your job. I don’t see Carisi wearing skintight dresses and I don’t see him with bruises up and down his arms, and he still gets paid the same as you.”

“Mm, Sonny in a skintight dress? That’d be something to see,” you giggle. “But I told you why I do this. It’s not just because I want to prove myself to the NYPD, it’s to protect those girls—“

“Okay. That’s admirable. But you’re paying for it now. And who’s protecting you?” You lift your head from his chest to look at him incredulously; as if he just figured out the world’s most complex math problem, and maybe he did just figure out one of your enigmas. “Let’s get you out of this dress, hmm?”

“I don’t want to have sex tonight,” you murmur. “Sorry—“

“That isn’t what I meant,” he says quietly. “Don’t apologize to me.”

“Oh?” you ask, your brow furrowing even more. “I thought—“

"No. Come on."

And it's quiet as he unzips your dress, as you slip one of his shirts over his head, as both of you brush your teeth before heading to bed. Rafael thinks you fell asleep as you're still silent for a few moments, staying stiff on your side of the bed, but you turn over and say, "Thank you, Rafi."

"For what?"

"For being so understanding. For being here, you know?" you say, pressing your lips to his. "I don't like to bring up my exes, but a lot of them just didn't get it and they just made me feel like I was never gonna be normal."

Rafael pulls you into his chest, kissing the top of your head. "You deserve so much better than that," he says, all too aware of how hollow that statement is. Of course you did. But was he really that much better? And did you love those exes? Was that all you were destined for, loving men who would never let you into their lives? You'd probably picked the most emotionally unavailable man on the block this time. But he wants to let you in, needs to, even if it terrifies him. He does care about you that much, and you had weaseled your way into most aspects of his life.

Still, though, there was a huge part of his life you hadn’t been introduced to: his Mami.

He has to let you meet her. You’ve been asking, maybe even practically begging, and he has to now. There’s a list of men and women he slept with that his mother never met, and maybe that’s a sin, maybe that’s what will send him to hell, because yes, maybe those rules about abstaining from sex before marriage are antiquated, but at least your mother should meet her, preferably before you bang her. He was too late for before, now, but you have to at some point.

The problem was that he hadn't mentioned you to his mother at all.

"Six months, Rafael Eduardo Barba, six months, you been taking this girl out on dates, you been buying her dinners, having her over your apartment, sleeping with her, and you don't have the decency to tell your mother? Ay, what is she like? Is she bonita? Is she inteligente? Oh, Rafa, is she Catholic?" His mother's phone tangent almost never ended. She wanted to know everything about you down to your social security number. Part of it was probably due to the fact that he hadn't introduced anyone to his mother in at least three years, maybe five, and she hated the last woman with a passion. God, Rafael barely remembered her name now, and he thinks Alex set him up with her.

He almost thought his mother passed out when he told her how old you were. But then, of course, she said it was a sign from God and that you were going to give her at least three grandchildren, preferably five. It was always one of Lucia Barba’s biggest regrets that she only had one child, having grown up with seven siblings, but Rafael always saw it as a blessing in disguise. His father didn’t need any more targets.

God, that phone call was hell. But he has to let you into his family life, so... it was going out to dinner with his mother on a Wednesday night.

“When am I going to meet your parents?” He asks you at dinner while you’re waiting for his mother to show up.

You smile. “We’ll see.”

“Not really fair.”

“My parents are miles away. Your mother is a cab ride away. It’s really not fair that I haven’t met her yet.”

“You use up all your vacation days to go see your brother. You could’ve taken me to meet them any of those times. You’ve gone at least three times since we’ve started dating.”

“Well. You’re always busy when I go.”

“I can ask for time off, (y/n),” he says, but that thought is left on hold as his mother walks in the restaurant, heading straight for their table. He smiles when he sees her, getting up and hugging her and kissing her cheek.

You get up too, scooting out of the booth behind Rafael. You shake her hand. “It’s so nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Barba. I’m (Y/n).”

“Si, it’s nice to meet you too, sweetheart. You can call me Lucia. So. How did you meet my boy?"

“Work,” you say, sliding back into the booth before Rafael. “He works with the squad I’m on.”

“Yes. Special victims unit. Tough job. You must be a tough woman,” she says, sympathetically. “Now...You’re a lot younger than my boy,” she says after a few minutes and Rafael almost slams the table and walks out. God, he loves his mother but this wasn’t what he wanted to talk about.

“What is it, 15 years, give or take?” you ask, turning to Rafael.

“Seventeen,” he murmurs, feeling sick. He’s never felt so old. There was his mother, who had him at seventeen years old. What the hell did she actually think about him being with you?

“Do your parents know how old he is?” Mami asks.

You nod, which surprises him. He didn’t know you’d had that conversation. “He hasn’t met them yet, though.”

“Ay, at least you have a good excuse. They live away. You know, I haven’t met anyone in a few years. Rafa’s been a priest. Or didn’t like them enough to bring them to me. You must be special.”

Thankfully, the waiter comes over, takes everyone’s order, and Rafael is able to rein the conversation in a little, talk about work, the weather, anything other than the topics his Mami was particularly drawn to. You ask about his abuelita, and his mother frowns.

“She doesn’t get out much these days. We’re worried about her health.”

“She should be in a nursing home,” Rafael says, pursing his lips. “She’s stubborn, though.”

“Let her have one more Thanksgiving and Christmas at home, Rafa,” Mami says. “We can talk about that next year.”

“I’d love to meet her,” you say. “Rafael talks highly of her.”

“Ay, she raised him the days I couldn’t. We both owe her so much,” she says, her eyes welling up. “When’s the next time you’re free during the day? Come with Rafa and me and being her groceries. She really never gets to meet Rafa’s girlfriends.”

“I’d love to,” you say, smiling brightly.

"You know, Rafa tells me you cook. You want some recipes?" She asks you. "I've always wanted to pass down abuelita's recipes, but Rafael can barely make rice, and he's never had a girlfriend who could cook either, far as I know."

"I'd love them, thank you! Rafael's always asking if I know how to make Cuban recipes, but I don't."

"Rafael eats too much takeout. I worry about his blood pressure," his mother says.

"That's what I tell him!" you say and Rafael rolls his eyes. Of course his mother would find something to gang up with you on against him. Traitor.

His mother gets a cab, and leaves you and Rafael alone on the street. “Do you think she likes me?”

Rafael laughs, hugging you. “Yes. She wouldn’t give recipes to just anyone, believe me. It’d be hard to dislike you, cariño.” He lets you go, taking your hand in his as you walk down the street toward your apartment a few blocks away.

“Really? Because you hated me when we first met.”

“No, I didn’t. Why are you saying that?”

“You sure didn’t seem like you liked me.”

“I did. I always did.”

“Even when I told you off?”

“Mm. What did you say to me? No woman wants anything to do with me?”

“I guess I might’ve been wrong?”

“You think? I got you to stick around.”

“Hey. It’s been six months. Don’t get cocky. Anyone can do six months.”

He doesn’t say anything, just squeezes your hand. He hadn’t put in over six months with anyone in well, about six years. So maybe not anyone could, but he'd let you in, and you were staying, weren’t you?

“I like her. I see where you got a lot of things from.”

“Really? Everyone used to say I look like my father.”

“I don’t mean you look like her, I mean you act like her.”

“Oh,” Rafael says, pondering on that for a moment. Maybe he could handle looking into his father’s face in the mirror if his mother’s values were truly behind it. “When do I meet your parents?”

“Christmas?”

“Why not Thanksgiving?”

“Too soon.”

“How is that fair? And it’s two months away.”

“Fine,” you grumble. “Thanksgiving. All they do when they’re in the same room is fight. I’m not really looking forward to you seeing that.”

Rafael laughs. “Looks like I won’t get in a word in edgewise. Perfect first impression: they won’t even notice me.”

You chuckle. “They care. They’re good parents. But they shouldn’t have had children together, that’s a certainty."

——

His mother calls him that night, a few moments after he gets back to his apartment. “Mami, what are you still doing up?”

“Why didn’t you tell me about that girl?” she asks.

“What?”

“You heard me, Rafael. Don’t play stupid with me, not anymore.”

Rafael sighs. “I just didn’t. I’ve been meaning to.”

“You’re my son. I know when you lie to me. There’s a reason you kept her from me.”

“Mami, I’m 43,” he says heavily.

“I know how old you are, I was there the day you were born. You give me a good reason now, Rafael. Because I don’t understand it. She’s smart, she’s beautiful. She has a good job. I can tell she cares about you. Why did you think I wouldn’t like her?”

Rafael laughs, smiling against his phone. “I knew you’d like her. That’s why I haven’t mentioned her.”

“Ay, Rafael, you make no sense.”

“Yes. I’m aware.”

“So explain to your poor madre!”

“I didn’t want to get your hopes up,” he says softly.

“What? My hopes up for what?”

“Don’t make me say it,” he whispers.

“No. You say it, Rafael. Tell me so I don’t make any mistake.”

“I didn’t want you to get your hopes up in case I don’t end up marrying her!” The words hurt as they leave his mouth, turning around and stabbing him in the chest.

“But you did introduce me to her.”

And that’s where Rafael realizes his mistake.

“Do you want to marry this girl, Rafael?”

“I... I don’t know. You know how I feel about that—“

“Hmm. So you give me false hope anyway.”

“I care about her a lot, Mami.”

“But do you care about her enough?”

Well, that was the question, wasn’t it? He doesn’t know the answer. You two could never be perfect; could never be the ideal he had in his head because ideals weren’t real. Fairy tale romances didn't exist. So why try? Why get married, get tied down? Why not just keep a distance? You didn’t need to live with him, you didn’t need to take his last name, you didn’t need to have his children. You could just keep him company when he was lonely, and you could leave when he wasn't. And even now - you went back to sleep at your apartment because you had to wake up early the next morning to run with Amanda before work, and he had work to do tonight, and this way you didn't disturb him. It was just easier this way.

Right?

Maybe you didn’t want to get married at all, much less to an old man like him. You were still young, and you had years to settle down and figure things out.

Why was he hesitating? Men like him didn’t get women like you every day, and maybe that’s why men buy rings and ask for signatures on binding documents, he realizes with disgust. It’s why his father did it - his father was a decade older than his mother and he knocked her up and trapped her to a lifetime of suffering before she was legally able to vote or drink. Rafael didn’t want to be like that- you should feel free to leave him without worrying about divorce papers or the wrath of God.

Okay then.

If he could only have the good parts, it'd be fine. Waking up with you in the morning, your homecooked dinners that pull him away from his work just when he's getting fed up, the teasing that drives him up the wall but eases the tension in his shoulders... it's just, when you get upset and cry too much, when he's genuinely trying to work and you want to make out... and, oh, god, when you see him, when you just look at him and act like you know everything he's been through for the past four decades... It's too much. He doesn't want all of that.

Right?

Okay then.

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#rafael barba #rafael barba x reader #barba x reader #barba #law and order svu #law and order special victims unit #raul esparza #law and order: special victims unit #law & order svu #if you read this closely you can hear me screaming into the void #company 2006 #company #being alive from company

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yukippe · 3 years

Text

the ease you put me in

[ID: A moodboard of six photos. There is gold text above and below the six photos. The text above reads, “korrasami net event 1 - formal.” Below that, in a larger font, it says “the ease you put me in.” The images are arranged by two images by three rows. each row contains a long, horizontal rectangular image and a shorter rectangle beside it. the opposite lengths alternate with each row. The first image, which is long, is of a mirror attached to makeup pallet and a tube of red lipstick. The second image is short, and of a chandelier reflected in a mirror. The third is short and a close up of the sides two faces pressed against each other, the face on the right has brown skin and the face on the left has pale skin. The fourth image is long and of three chandeliers made up of long dangling streams of light. The fifth image is long and blurry and is of someone in a fancy dress exploring a room. The sixth image is short and is of sparkling wine glasses. The golden text beneath the images says, “rey | ao3 - svnflowerz”. End ID]

for @korrasaminet event 1: formal | ao3 , 2.2k

korra is perched on the bench next to the vanity, her arms around her knees and her hair half done. her eyes are only on asami, sitting with her back against the bench and her legs crossed, a makeup pallet in her hand. asami carefully applies eyeshadow and the radio murmurs quietly in the background. neither of them are listening, asami focused on making herself up and korra focused on asami.

asami finishes with her eyeshadow and lifts the pallet above her head. korra neatly plucks it out of her hands and places it on the messy vanity, selecting eyeliner, a hand mirror. a much larger mirror with necklaces hanging off, and ribbons tied to notches and pictures carefully tucked into the lining is attached to the vanity. it goes neglected, but still reflects the smile on korra’s face as she holds up a hand mirror in front of asami’s face while asami applies neat black lines with the help of a pocket knife.

the lights catch the sparkle in asami’s eyes reflected in the hand mirror as asami caps her eyeliner. asami winks into the mirror and rests her head back on the bench, her eyes catching korra’s. they smile at each other, their faces full of warmth. korra takes the eyeliner and puts it and the hand mirror back on the vanity, then she moves around so there is room next to her on the bench. asami stands up, stretching her arms out as she moves, her long lines gliding together until she’s slipping into the seat next to korra.

the two lean in together, seamlessly. their lips meet in the middle in a clearly well practiced movement. they are both smiling into the kiss, and korra’s grin turns slantwise as they separate. korra lifts a red tube into the air and waves it back and forth, her bangs falling in her face when she winks at asami. a light, quiet giggle falls out as asami drops her mouth open when korra uncaps the lipstick.

korra swats at asami’s leg lightly, “shh,” she says. “i don’t want to make a mess of this, sweetheart.” korra’s eyes are wide open as she neatly slides the lipstick across asami’s lips. the red pops against asami’s skin. korra lifts her thumb up to the corner of asami’s mouth to wipe away a slight smudge. asami smiles into the contact and korra moves forward to peck asami’s lips, again. when she moves back there’s the slightest trace of red on korra’s mouth.

asami giggles and points to the mirror, korra makes a funny face and asami slumps into korra laughing. korra shrugs her off, smiling fondly. asami smiles back and stands up and offers a hand to korra. korra takes it and lets asami pull her up onto her feet. their arms slide around each other and their heads meet together. korra brushes their noses together once, twice, before turning around. asami plucks a necklace off the vanity and unclaspes it before, carefully, painstakingly, lifting it over korra’s head and letting it collapse gently onto korra’s collarbone. she closes the clasp and tilts her head down to press a kiss onto korra’s shoulder. korra turns her head and they smile easily at each other.

“your turn,” asami says. korra nods and sits back in the bench, asami takes a brush off the vanity and walks around the bench and finishes korra’s hair. they distract each other in the mirror, neither caring about the clock ticking or how late they will be. when asami finishes korra leaps off the bench and they walk down the steps of their home, hands swinging between them. they slip into their shoes and asami helps korra into her coat before korra does the same for her. asami pulls the umbrella out of the stand and korra makes sure everything they need is in the clutch. they nod to each other before slipping out of the door, one after the other.

the party is long underway, a band playing and lights twinkling, loud laughter and chatter spills out of the hall, and with it two girls tripping over their heels holding hands.

korra pushes back a strand of asami’s hair and asami catches korras wrist to press a kiss on the inside of it. the hallway they stand in is quiet, the lights dimmer. “hey,” asami whispers, not wanting to break the hush they’ve settled into. “do you want to explore while no one’s looking for you?”

korra raises an eyebrow at her, smiling, and says just as quiet, “everyone’s going to be looking for you when they realize we’re missing, miss ceo of future industries.” asami makes a face at her and korra reaches up to kiss it away. “but sure,” korra says as she pulls away. “let’s explore.”

asami lifts her hand from korra’s wrist to intwine their fingers together, she squeezes korra’s hand once before letting their hands fall down in between them. their eyes catch and asami tugs korra along through the dusty unlit halls and rooms. they pass by too fancy bathrooms and vases with fake flowers and real wilted flowers and real fresh flowers.

a window, with the last wisp of sun, sparkles and catches korra’s eye. korra pauses for a moment in front of it. asami looks between the window and korra and tugs them forward. the window shows the side garden. a gentle fountain spills over and asami squints to try to get a better look at the pattern on the fountain and the flowers around it. “hm, do you think you could bend the water from here?” asami asks korra.

korra’s smile slants to the side, her eyes lighting up at the challenge. “hell, yeah.” asami giggles, smiling at her girlfriends well earned confidence. asami crosses her arms and raises and eyebrow expectantly. korra nods, once, and steps back, slipping into waterbending stance.

her face is focused, but calm as her eyes fall shut and her arms start to flow. asami turns her gaze back down to the fountain. the water is swirling up into a heart, and it startles a laugh out of asami. she watches the fountain until the stream of water gracefully falls back into the tiled basin. asami turns her head back to see korra wrap her arms around asami, korra’s chin settling on asami’s shoulder. “i love you too, babe,” asami says, her voice soft and warm.

then, the loud cry of “hey!!” interrupts. korra and asami sigh into each other at the noise, separating slowly as bolin and opal run up to them.

“guys,” bolin says, very seriously. “you’ve had your turn to run around and explore, we distracted everyone and know it’s your turn to mingle so opal and i can figure out if this place is really haunted.”

asami and korra exchange a look, asami lifting her eyebrows and korra shrugs. “okay,” korra says. “just don’t break anything.”

“of course not!” bolin assures them.

opal nods reassuringly, “don’t worry, if pabu gets out and breaks anything we’re blaming it on bolin.” bolin mock gasps at her and korra and asami giggle and let the two drift into another hallway, teasing each other fondly.

the band has been playing for hours and korra has been trying to convince asami to dance with her for almost as long. “c’mon,” korra asks, tugging on asami’s hand to no avail. “please, asami?”

asami turns her head as if she’s heard nothing and neatly plucks a champagne glass off of a tray passing by. korra sighs and takes the glass offered and lifts it up to clink it against asami’s. the many glittery lights reflecting against the rims of their drinks. Asami holds it up to the light, curious at the colours reflecting onto the glass.

“asami! c’mon, i have mako on the watch so no one will try and cut in or anything.” korra slips an arm around asami’s waist and catches her eyes. korra’s pouting slightly and asami sighs and downs her glass.

“okay,” asami says letting a slight smile settle. “one dance,” she insists, though they both know they won’t leave the dance floor for hours now. korra nods and they leave their glasses and wander over to the dancing couples. the music switches, as if one cue, to a slower, gentle song. asami smiles and kisses korra’s cheek as their arms settle familiarly around each other. their heads both tilt forward so that their foreheads rest against each other in the middle.

some couples around them like bolin and opal and jinora and kai know the latest dance moves and korra and asami smile to each other as they sneak glances of jinora and kai using their bending to do almost impossible lifts, or tenzin who always seems to hover over the steps he and pema take. korra moves to rest her head in the crook of asami’s neck when ikki and kya’s very dramatic and loud duet catches her eyes.

“uh, asami, are you seeing that too?” asami turns to where korra’s gaze points and has to cover her mouth with her hand to keep from laughing. it is difficult to tell if kya and ikki are in a bending duel or dancing. korra lets her head fall into asami’s neck, but this time she is attempting to stifle her laughter.

the music raises in volume, as if to try to cover up the mess of kya and ikki’s aunt and niece routine, and korra and asami let the rhythm of the music sink into their movements. asami twirls korra under the sparkling lights and korra, giggling she settles back into asami’s arms, makes sure to dip asami as the song comes to an end.

it’s past midnight when they manage to slip away. their feet are swollen from dancing, and they’ve both had to clean off lipstick stains in the bathroom. they say their goodbyes to their friends and step out the front door to see rain rushing down. asami taps their umbrella twice against the ground before lifting it up.

“you know,” korra says as their heels make quiet splashes in the puddles forming beneath their feet. “i could just bend us a moving roof.”

asami hms, “sure. but you also look like you’re about to fall asleep.” korra doesn’t say anything to refute that, her head already resting against asami’s side, her eyes fluttering shut. the pitter patter of the rain sounds almost like a lullaby, the world dark and quiet around them besides the gentle ball of fire korra holds out between them every time they step between patches of light from street lamps and apartment windows.

“i love you,” korra murmurs as they stumble slightly, walking too close to one another, but not wanting to move apart.

“i love you too,” asami says, smiling at her girlfriend. the rain still falls, and home isn’t far away now.

korra lies back on the bed, her feet up in the air as she moves her legs back and forth, watching the stars she and asami painted onto the ceiling when they moved in. the smell of rose petals from their bath clings to her skin and she waits patiently for asami to finish in the bathroom.

finally, asami steps out to see korra sprawled across the fluffy blankets, holding a heart shaped furry pillow to her chest. “hi sweetheart,” korra says, her legs falling back onto the bed as she sits up at the sight of asami.

“i thought you would be asleep by now,” asami notes as she collapses onto the bed next to korra, stealing the heart pillow away. “you were half asleep on the walk.

korra falls back onto the bed and they shift so they’re both lying on their sides and smiling at each other, still on top of the covers. too lazy too move anymore at the moment. “oh,” korra says. “well i have one more thing on my to do list before we go to sleep.”

asami giggles and leans forward, kissing korra softly and quickly, “is that good?”

korra smiles warmly, “that was pretty great, but it’s something else.”

“oh?” asami asks, an eyebrow quirking up.

“yeah,” korra says. she sits up and turns around and asami props herself up on one arm, curious. korra turns back with a pastry from the party between her fingers and a smirk on her face. “i saved you a treat, babe.”

asami snorts and sits up one hand out expectantly. korra breaks it apart and they both sigh, but do nothing, at the crumbs that fall onto the bed spread. they bite into the pastry at the same time. it’s fluffy and sweet, some sort of berry in it. asami wipes her hands off on korra’s pajama pants and korra swats away her hands. the only light left in the room is the lamp next to korra and as they slowly shift to move under the blankets, korra turns it off. darkness settles over them so neither can see the others smile, but they can both feel it as they sneak one last goodnight kiss before sleep takes them.

a thump sounds at the edge of the bed and korra and asami groan into each other good naturedly as naga curls up at their feet. “goodnight naga,” asami calls, quietly, receiving a gentle bark in return.

#korrasami net #lok #korrasami #korra #asami #rey's writering #r.txt #i cant believe it takes me a 61 pin board to make a 6 image mb ;;

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whore4anime · 4 years

Text

Vegas Baby-

Oscar DiazxReader

@ashh30

Warnings: adult language

Summary: Oscar invites you on a trip to Las Vegas knowing that you’ve always wanted to go. You guys go out to explore and end up having one to many drinks. Waking up and seeing something that will change your relationship with Oscar.

A/n this is one of my favorite works I’ve done. I had a great time writing this I thought it was so cuteee. Request are open!!

Word count: 2k yesssirrrrrr

Excuse my mistakes not proofread

Oscar and I have been best friends since we were little. I was there for him when his mom left and his dad went to jail. When he went to jail I took care of Cesar. I guess feelings started to form awhile ago, Oscar was different with me and I liked that. He claimed me when he joined the Santos making sure no one laid a finger on me. I was upset at first but I soon realized that maybe there was a reason for him not wanting anyone else to be able to claim me.

I laid there on Oscars couch my legs of his lap. I was scrolling threw the channels trying to find something worth watching. “Hey you know how you always wanted to go to Vegas?” Oscar said looking up from his phone to me. “Yeahhhh?” I said questioning why he asked. “I’m going tomorrow there’s a Santos meeting. You wanna come?” My smile grew I sat up moving my body towards him “yessssss” now hugging him tightly. “Cálmate” he said chuckling at how excited I was. “I’m gonna go back to mine and pack.” I said getting up and jumping.

It was the next morning, I got up to get ready to be on my way to Oscars. I put on black ripped jeans with a white crop top, and white air forces. I had my Santos cross necklace on that Oscar gave to me when he claimed me I never took it off. He’d always get upset when I didn’t wear it.

I got my bag I packed for three days just in case I can convince Oscar to stay for a few more days. I walked out of my apartment locking the door behind me. I was carrying two bags one with my clothes the other with makeup. Oscar only lived a few blocks from mine so I got there fast.

I walked into the house looking at Oscar who was sitting down on the couch watching tv. “What are you doing? We need to go. Are you even packed?” I said walking up to the tv turning it off. “Aye what the hell? We don’t have to go till 2 it’s 12.” He said grabbing the remonte and turning the tv back on. “But I want to get there early so I can look around.” I said now standing in front of the tv now giving him my best puppy face. Oscar groaning and getting up to grab his stuff.

“Finally” I said as Oscar walked out his room with his bag. I got up and grabbed my bags. “What you need so many bags for?” Oscar said opening the door. “Ones for clothes and ones for makeup. Not everyone can just get up throw on shorts and a shirt and leave.” I said letting out a little laugh as he rolled his eyes. I set my bags in his trunk and got into the passenger seat. Oscar getting in on the drivers side and turned on the car and began driving.

“Are we almost there yet?” I groaned grabbing Oscars phone and looking at the Map. “An hourrr? We’ve driving for hours.” I said throwing his phone back onto his lap. “What the fuck” Oscar said moving his hand down to his dick. “Oops” I said reaching over “Mira sana sana” now laughing my ass off. “Shits not funny. That hurt.” He said now kissing his teeth. “You’re no fun.” I said now turning up the music. My favorite song started to play and I began to sing the song dancing with my upper body.

Oscar looking at me like I was the love of his life his smile grew wider with every word I sang.

“We’re hereee!” I shouted unbuckling my seat belt. Looking around at all the hotels. Oscar pulling into the ballet at Caesar’s Palace. “Cesars palace!? You’re joking??” I said excitedly knowing that this was one of the best hotels in Las Vegas. “I know it’s your first time here so I wanted to make it good.” He said smiling getting out of the car and handing his keys to someone. He opened the trunk now grabbing all of our bags.

“Let’s go check in.” He said nodding his head towards the door. “Wow a spinning door.” I said like a little kid. Oscar laughed at how excited I was to be there. After checking in we went to our room. I walked in heading straight for the window to see the view. “Look how many pools there are! Let’s go?!” I said now grabbing my bad to grab one of the several bathing suits I brought. “ I have to go to the meeting but I’ll be back in like an hour or two.” My facial expression changing “whatttt? Fine but I’ll be at the pool waiting for you so better be get in with me when you come back.” I said grabbing my red two piece bathing suit and going to the bathroom to get changed. When I came out Oscar was gonna already he left a key on the table so I grabbed it.

I got to the pool trying to see which one I wanted to go into first. I set my towel and phone down on the seat. I get into the pool for about 20 minutes then I got out to tan. Laying down on my stomach.

I opened my eyes to see a shirtless Oscar standing over me a smile growing on my face. “What took you so long?” I said now turning on my back. “Had to take care of something’s.” He said his eyes wandering down your body. “Stop looking at my ass.” I said giggling as Oscar quickly looked up. “I was just looking at your swimsuit. It’s nice.” He said now rubbing the side of his neck.

“Let’s go into the pool” he said putting his towel down onto the seat next to me. “Just wait i-“ I felt his arms grabbing my sides and picking me up. “O-Oscar!” I said laughing. He began to run towards the pool his grasp on me getting tighter as he jumped into the pool. Once our heads rises above the water I began to splash him starting a splash war. Which soon came to an end when a life guard told us to stop.

“Let’s get out and walk around.” I said walking to the stairs to get out and looking back to see if Oscar was following, he was. I grabbed my towel patting down my body then grabbing my stuff slipping on my chanclas. “Vamos” I said as I started to walk back into the building.

Once we got to the room Oscar grabbed his clothes and took them to the bathroom to change. I grabbed a pair of shorts and the shirt I was wearing before to wear. I stripped down when Oscar exited the bathroom because he was done changing. His eyes looking up and down my naked body. “yo what the hell!” I said grabbing a towel and quickly covering my body. “Fuck my bad” he said walking back into the bathroom. I quickly changed “you can come out now.” I said knocking on the door to the bathroom so I could go in and do my hair and makeup. The door soon opening and Oscar exited. “I’ll be quick.” I said setting down my stuff.

“You almost done? you said you were gonna be quick.” Oscar said n un ow leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom as you finished putting on your eyeliner. “Yes, yes Im done.” I said closing my bag and walking to the bed to put on my shoes.

“Okay let’s go!” I shouted walking towards the door opening it. Oscar following behind.

“Where do you wanna go?” Oscar asked. “Let’s go to a bar first.” I said grabbing Oscars hand so I wouldn’t lose him in the crowd of people, even though he was hard to lose. I felt him squeeze my hand as I dragged him through the people till I found a bar.

“Here we are” I said now letting go of his hand and walking into the bar and taking a seat. Oscar taking a seat next to me. “What can I get you guys?” The bar tender asked. “I’ll just get a bucket.” Oscar said then looking at you. “Uhhhh I’ll have a hmmm” I looked over to Oscar because I’ve never been to a bar before. “She’ll have a Manhattan.” Oscar ordering for me. “I’m gonna have to see some ID” the bartender said as me and Oscar pulled out our wallets and showed him our IDs.

It was dark outside, Oscar and I barley walking out of the bar. “I have an amazing idea.” I said while tripping over my feet. That idea I probably wouldn’t remember.

I woke up next to Oscar in bed. My head throbbing from all of the alcohol I drank last night. Oscars arm wrapped around me. “Oscar wake up” I groaned shaking him getting a groan back. Did we? I lifted the blanket to see my bra and underwear still on. “ we didn’t.” Oscar said knowing what I was thinking and why I lifted the blanket. “What happened last night?” I asked getting up from the bed. I walked over to the desk seeing that there was a paper on it. A marriage certificate. To me and Oscar. Oh no. “We got fucking married” I shouted now walking towards Oscar who was still laying on the bed. I put the certificate on his chest. He sat giving the certificate one look and began to laugh. “This isn’t funny Oscar!” I shouted beginning to pace back and forth in the hotel room. “I can’t get married to someone who doesn’t love me. This is bad my moms gonna freak out. I’m freaking out.” I said still pacing.

“It’s not that serious.” Oscar said putting the certificate on the counter. “Not that bad? Oscar we’re married! And you don’t even love me and and I don’t want to be married to someone who doesn’t share the same emotions as I do! And fuck maybe remembering my wedding would be nice!” I said accidentally revealing my feelings towards Oscar. Fuck me. Oscar got up and stoped me from pacing his hands on my arms. “Y/n I love you. I’ve loved you ever since I got jumped into the Santos and claimed. The thought of someone being able to have you made my blood boil because I loved you and I still do. So no it’s not that serious because my feelings for you y/n are real.” His hands moving up to my face as he closed the gap between us or lips meeting for the first time. I pulled apart a smile growing on both of our faces, “I love you too.”

We pulled up to Oscars driveway to see Santos hanging out in the front like they always were. “They just don’t leave do they.” I said laughing and opened the car door getting out and grabbing my bags. When some Santos came ups don greeted Spooky. I went inside put my bags on the couch and came out and sat next to Oscar on an old beat up coach that laid in the front of his house. “What’d y’all do?” Sad eyes asked looking at me and Oscar suspiciously. “We got really really drunk and got married.” I said not giggling at Sad eyes and some other Santos who heard reactions. Oscar letting out a chuckle. “Should have taken her a long time ago.” Oscar said giving me a kiss and wrapping his arm around me.

Tag list: @babienay @dcpcnxx @merakiaes @amethyst09 @firebenderwolf @dolanackles @flamingweasley

#cesar on my block #on my block imagine #ruby on my block #reader insert #on my block #how-to-make-a-masterlist #santos #imagine #oscardiaz #oscar diaz x reader imagine #omb imagine #lasvegas #smut

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versatilewindow · 4 years

Text

A Night in ‘Las Vegas’ (its actually Daphne’s mansion)

Find it on Ao3!

Summary:Party at Daphne's, Velma experiences requited gay panic. Written for @scrubyjay<3

A/N: if u asked me a week ago what id be writing, scooby doo lesbian fanfic definitely wouldn't have been anywhere near my mind. im kinda surprised i even had this much to say about them.

In the past few years, the Mystery Gang had made a habit of meeting up before a new semester of college started to relax and hang out before their studies took over their lives. Daphne was hosting at her childhood home (as she called it, though most would consider the estate a real true mansion) as usual, (Her parents were off on their yearly honeymoon or what Daphne would call their regularly scheduled time for absolute debauchery among other acts that are certainly in a legal grey area.) and she had full reign of the staff and tonight's event. This semester’s theme was “A Night in Las Vegas”, meaning the gang would be dressed in their best cocktail outfits, and that there were actual slot machines and gambling tables, complete with dealers using rigged card decks to make sure no one would threaten the casino’s nightly earnings, not that they were actually gambling it’s all for realism.

This was the week before most the gang’s final semester, most as in Shaggy decided that he’d rather learn some cooking skills on the job rather than some pompous 75 year old teacher at the nearest cooking school, not realizing he would instead have to deal with an egotistical 40 year old going through what was surely the world’s worst case of mid-life crisis. The rest of the gang was spread around the country, Fred was at the local state college on a football scholarship, studying business and was the VP of the school’s biggest fraternity. Daphne was studying investigative journalism at Colombia, if asked she went to school in New York, and she was in fact related to the Blakes financially backing the new Blake scholarship for students studying journalism. Velma was at Stanford double majoring in Criminal Psychology and Forensic Science, and was set to continue her studies in a Phd program at Harvard.

Out of all the gang, Velma was the most excited for the night, she rarely got to see the others because of the physical distance between them. She walked up the marble steps outside the front doors of the Blake estate, duffel bag in tow, (they always ended up absolutely sloshed at the end of these dinners, opting to stay in one of the many guest rooms with plush king sized beds rather than waiting for a taxi) and pressed the buzzer which linked to a pager on the butler’s uniform. It was only a few moments before Jenkins opened the heavy oak doors.

“Ah, Miss Dinkley, glad to see you’ve made it here safely, would you like someone to take your bag to your room?”

“No, thank you Jenkins, Daphne wanted to get ready together and I have some things I’ll need in the bag. Is she in her room?”

“Yes, allow me to escort you there.” With that Jenkins turned into the Foyer, walking under the first of many grand chandeliers, and up the grand blush pink marble stairs towards Daphne’s suite. Before she knew it they were in front of the door to the bedroom.

Jenkins knocked on the pale door, “Miss Blake, Miss Dinkley has arrived.”

“Oh Yes! Send her in please! The door’s unlocked!” A light rustling was heard behind the door as Jenkins opened the door for Velma, revealing Daphne moving towards her vanity in a silk lavender robe that ended mid thigh. “Velma! I’m so happy you could come early!” The taller woman changed her course towards the shorter one, who seemed almost frozen in the doorway. “Come on in! Thank you Jenkins, let me know when the boys have arrived.” Jenkins responded with a light bow before swiftly turning away, no doubt to continue the prep for tonight's event.

Velma walked in the room, closing the door behind her, and setting her bag down on the loveseat in front of the room’s TV. “I’m glad I could make it too, I wasn’t sure if I would’ve been able to trade shifts with someone at the bookstore, but Sarah S., remember her from high school? She was trying to avoid a family event that was going on earlier today, her aunts are always setting her up on dates and she didn’t want to deal with that again. So it all worked out!”

Daphne smiled at Velma, “Oh Sarah’s wonderful, I almost forgot she worked at the bookstore too during the breaks. There’s a robe for you in the bathroom to change into before we do our manicures.” Velma turned into the attached bathroom, quickly changing into the orange silk robe she usually used while at Daphne’s, the light geometric patterns reminding her of all the sleepovers the two shared in high school. Stepping out of the bathroom, Velma saw that Daphne had already set up the station to paint their nails. “So what’s tonight’s color scheme for you? I’m going with glittery hot pink.” Daphne had started with the base coat already.

“I brought an orange leather skirt, and I was thinking of a black top, but the options I brought don’t really fit with the cocktail dress code for tonight.” Velma sat down across from her friend in a dark luxurious chair, fiddling with the collection of polishes in front of her.

Daphne grabbed a mid-tone orange from the selection, “Don’t worry about your top, you know I have a lot to choose from.” The smile on her face was audible, and she continued, “If it’s the leather skirt I’m thinking of, it would pair great with this sheer, flowy turtleneck I have.” Daphne’s delicate hands grabbed Velma’s, and with skillful light touches started applying the polish. The two took turns with the materials, falling into a comfortable silence finishing the task quickly.

“It’s make-up and hair next, right? I have some things in my bag.” Deeming her nails dry enough, Velma stood and made her way over to the aforementioned bag, pulling out a travel toiletries bag that had her small selection of make-up. It’s not that she was against make-up in any way, it was really more for special events than the day to day, also her college-student budget meant some luxuries were limited, and make-up was on that list. Adjusting her glasses, Velma turned to where Daphne was standing next to the vanity chair, she had a slight pout on her face, the one she used to get what she wanted from anyone.

“Can I please do your make-up? You know I love to do it and you love the outcome every time.” The pout stayed on her face.

“I suppose I could let you do my makeup Daph, seeing as you’re asking so kindly.” Daphne let out a light giggle at the fake sass in Velma's statement. (They both knew that Velma would never say no to Daphne, with or without the pout, not that Velma would ever admit it.) Velma sat down, leaning against the back of the chair, removing her glasses and setting them down on the vanity to allow Daphne full vision of her canvas.

Feathery touches moved across Velma’s face, applying the primer on to soft moisturized skin. “Are you wearing contacts tonight?”

“I brought them, but I’m not sure I’ll remember to take them off before sleeping tonight.”

Daphne continued with the base make-up. “Don’t wear them, you look cute with your glasses.”

A light blush covered the tips of Velma’s cheeks and nose, it certainly wasn’t her first time hearing that phrase, but something about hearing it from Daph’s rosy lips made it different.

Working swiftly, Daphne made her way to the eyes, she grabbed Velma’s eyeliner, leaning in close to work on the wing. The controlled, concentrated breaths tickled the lightly covered freckles on Velma’s face, the flush from before continuing on strong through the powder pink blush Daphne already placed on the high point’s of her cheek bones. Daphne leaned away from her to examine the work done, hands lingering behind on Velma’s face, a satisfied smile appearing when she decided the two sides were even. “We’ll do lips after we change, you good on your own for hair?” Velma nodded while putting her frames back on to inspect the work Daphne had done on her face. It was simple, what she liked best, but it was better than anything Velma could do on her own. Daphne had perfected her technique in blending and choosing colors, if she didn’t know the other for years, Velma would’ve expected Daphne to enroll in a fashion and design school.

The two made quick work of the rest of their prep work, gossiping about the town’s latest scandals. (The Adam’s were being investigated for tax fraud, and the Miller’s were going through a particularly nasty divorce.) Velma straightened out her hair, smoothing it from the usual halo of frizz, stealing glances at Daphne while she did her own make-up and hair. Their gazes met each other once, staring deep into the other’s dark eyes for a beat before looking away as though nothing happened.

The evening drew to a close, night just beginning to settle in, the others would be here soon. Their attention was now drawn to the expansive walk-in closet in the room. Daphne pulled out the sheer turtleneck mentioned before for Velma, it had shiny glittery threads spread throughout, perfect for tonight’s event, and a hot pink sequined mini dress. They both changed in front of each other, as they had many times before, but something in the air was different, there was an unspoken tension between the two of them growing from the lingering touches and frequent glances from earlier. Velma looked up from her skirt’s zipper to see Daphne’s bare back in front of her, dress unzipped. She said a light ‘I got it’ before pulling the hidden zipper up the pale back, the dress tightly hugging the curve of the toned body before her.

The tension dissipated as they walked over to the rack of shoes covering a wall of the closet, Daphne thinking out loud, wondering if she should go with boots or a strappy pump. She grabbed a chunky platform heel for Velma, one she often borrowed, before deciding on black suede thigh high boots. Daphne’s pink phone pinged, a text from the boys, they were five minutes away. As she pulled the boots over her long legs, Daphne saw Velma staring at her thighs, pinked nose, where skin met suede, and blushed herself, not mentioning that she’d caught the other.

Shrugging this off, Daphne stood and walked out of the closet, to the door of her room, waiting for Velma. As the shorter walked to the doorway, fingertips touched the small of her back guiding her through. The two walked to the main room on the ground floor where it had been transformed to feel like a real casino, the lights were dimmed, 5 slot machines took up a wall, a dealer’s table next to the grand fireplace, tall, small tables with tea lights and stools took up the center floor, and two servants stood at the edge, one with a tray of hors d'oeuvres and the other a tray of champagne. Meeting the ladies at the bottom were their friends, and Jenkin’s informing them that dinner would be served within the hour. The boys cleaned up well, Shaggy’s usual mop of hair gelled back, with burgundy suspenders against a white button up holding up light green slacks. Fred opted for a more classic black and white suit, with a sapphire blue tie to add his own flair. Even Scooby looked prepped for a red carpet, his nails cut, a light almond scent from soap rather than his usual distinct dog smell.

The forty or so minutes before dinner was served went smoothly, Shaggy, Scooby, and Daphne spent their time catching up at the slot machine; Fred and Velma playing black jack while laughing about funny stories from the past semester. The waiters did their jobs, handing out each person’s favorite snack before the meal, or snacks in Shaggy and Scoob’s case, leaving no glass unfilled, although they insisted they all have at least a glass of plain water for every couple of refills.

Once it was time for the meal, the servants put their trays down to push the tables together, so the group could enjoy the dishes together. Daphne pulled her stool next to Velma’s brushing her hand against the smooth skin of the other’s thigh, and noticed how the seated girl’s relaxed, slightly tipsy posture tensed at the quick touch. The dinner continued with similar interactions, a tap of one’s foot against the other, a brush of knees under the table, dabbing away sauce at the edge of the other’s lips. If the boys had noticed these seemingly innocent interactions, they either didn’t care about the clear subtext, or were too drunk to even notice the tension growing with each lingering touch.

After they had finished eating, the ladies continued with their behavior at the table even though the others moved to the dealer’s table for poker. With a well placed hand on the other girl’s thigh, Velma took things a step further and gave a light squeeze, causing Daphne to get out her stool, pulling the other by the wrist to the nearest bathroom, offhandedly mentioning their destination to the hired boy bringing out chicken nuggets for Shaggy.

In the bathroom, Velma locked the door behind them as the taller girl pulled her onto the granite countertop in a rushed passionate kiss. Contrary to popular belief, Velma was no stranger to Saturday night party bathroom hook-ups, but she was in her childhood best friend’s home having a bathroom hook-up, with her childhood best friend no less. The flutter in her stomach that was growing during dinner, turned into heat and a blazing fire at her core as Daphne’s supple pink lips trailed down the side of the other neck, lightly biting where the top of the turtleneck ended. A quick hand undid the button at the top of the sheer shirt, allowing Daphne more places to nip and kiss. Velma’s hands pulled the other closer as a soft moan left her lips, making Daphne continue the attack at her neck with more vigor. With a light squeeze on her butt, the orange haired girl looked up from the other’s neck with half lidded eyes before asking, “do you,” a kiss on the cheek, “want to take this” a kiss on the other, “to my room?” a kiss on the nose, “I have some things there that could make this even better” a kiss on the lips. At this, Velma hopped off the counter, straightening out her disheveled clothes as best she could before unlocking the door and rushing towards the stairs, Daphne close behind with a large grin on her face. The only thing that pulled them away from their mission of making it to the room was a quick stop telling the boys they were turning in for the night.

The next morning, Daphne figured it was a good thing her parents insisted the boy’s sleep on the other side of the house.

Bonus: after the ladies mentioned they were off to bed

Shaggy turned to Fred, he was drunk, but sober enough to notice the smeared lipstick on Daphne, or the trail of lip marks down Velma’s neck. "You're gonna have to pay up man, did you see them?"

Fred slumped down onto the table and mumbled, "Why couldn't they stick it out a few more months till after graduation, I'll have your money on Monday."

A/N: uhhhh, velma got RAILED, lets leave that as the description for the smut. I would also like to get dommed by Daphne Blake. Lmk if u liked it!

#Scooby doo #velma x daphne #Velma Dinkley #Daphne Blake #wlw #implied smut #idk whats more wild me writing this or posting it at all

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skullrock · 4 years

Text

the partners, chapter 5 - Steve x Reader

chapter 5 - I know it’s over

series summary: you and Steve are police apprentices at Hawkins Police Station in the fall of 1986. you get along famously, but there’s something Steve is hiding, and there is an unknown evil lurking in Hawkins. [friends to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff]

chapter summary: You and Steve head to Bartini to investigate; you pursue your feelings for Steve with devastating results.

warnings: swearing, angst!!!!!!!!!, drinking, mentions of getting sick

word count: 4k (oof!)

a/n: here’s the Spotify playlist that goes with the series, and you can catch up here. pirate door scene from this and make sure you buckle up for this chapter fellas

=====

Saturday comes around, and you prep for the night. You throw on your disguise, which is just a dress that you typically would not wear and a wig from Halloween a few years ago. You attempt to do some makeup that you wouldn’t typically do as well – Steve said it had to be good. Steve also recommended carrying a weapon, just in case – you grab a switchblade and tuck it into a garter that your mother had given you years ago. You find yourself obsessing over how you look, and you’re not sure if it’s because you’re worried of being caught or worried that you won’t look good enough for Steve.

Your palms get sweatier the closer you get to his house, and your heart rate picks up. You mentally kick yourself over this, but it’s not like it helps.

You pull up to his house around 10 pm, honking the horn once to signal your arrival. Steve steps out a few seconds later. You can’t see much of him in the dark, but you can make out that he’s carrying something pretty large in his hand. Your brows furrow and you watch as he opens the back door, the back seat illuminated by the light in your car. He throws in a wooden bat, riddled with nails, and shuts the door.

Shocked is an understatement.

“Hey!” he says, climbing into the car.

You can’t talk for a moment. “Steve, what-“

“You look so great,” he says, and he means it. He thinks you look downright breathtaking, not that he would admit that to himself or anyone else.

“No,” you say harshly, turning the lights in the car on. “What the hell is that?” You point to the backseat.

He looks at you innocently. “A bat.”

“Steve, that’s not a bat. That’s a fucking – that’s a war weapon. That’s shit they used to use in medieval times to kill- to kill monsters and shit.”

He is impressed by your accidental accuracy.

“We might need it,” he retorts.

You shake your head in disbelief and laugh slightly. “For what?”

“Just trust me, alright?”

“Who even gave that to you?”

“Jonathan.”

“Jonathan Byers?!”

“Yes.”

You stare at him, slack jawed. “What?!”

“Look,” he sighs. “I need you to drop this and just trust me, okay?”

“Okay, but you can’t take that into the bar.”

“I won’t,” he says. “I just – I need it, alright?”

You don’t understand, but he’s your best friend and you care about him, so you relent. It’s now that you notice him, looking sleek in his black duster, sunglasses hanging off his shirt. His hair is slicked back. He looks like a movie star, and it catches you off guard.

“What’s this?” you muse finally, tugging on his jacket.

“It’s my risky business costume from ’84,” he smiles. “Do you like it?”

“No,” you respond, to his surprise. “You don’t look different enough.”

Steve scoffs. “What do you mean? My hair is slicked back, dude.”

You roll your eyes and grab your bag, sifting through it. He watches you nervously, making sure to take his eyes away from looking at your exposed thighs, because it’s weird to look at your friend like that. He looks away sharply and clears his throat, running a hand through his hair. You eventually produce a stick of black eyeliner and red chapstick.

“No,” he says. “No way!”

“You have to!” you plea.

“You are not putting makeup on me,” he huffs. “End of discussion.”

“Steve, stop being so fragile,” you say, exasperated. “Men in makeup look hot.”

He stills. “Do you think?”

“I don’t think, I know,” you say, twirling the eyeliner in your hand. “Now lean over here and close your eyes.”

Steve does as you request, closing his eyes and leaning over to rest his arms on the center console. He laughs awkwardly as you begin. The little lighting in the car isn’t much, but it doesn’t have to be perfect. He has sunglasses, anyway. You quickly put it on, smudging it, explain to him that yes, you need to smudge it, and no, this isn’t a joke.

“Open,” you say, and he opens his eyes.

You’re both just inches apart, and your eyes lock. Your stomach flips and palms sweat. You want to look away, but you couldn’t – you were completely enamored, impressed with his warm brown irises, the speckles of gold within them, how happy and soft he looks as he meets your gaze.

“Um,” you say finally, dropping your eyes down to the chapstick. “You’ll need this, too – it’ll tint your lips.”

“I’m going to look like a vampire,” he mumbles, amused, and you smile gently. You uncap the chapstick, but instead of giving it to him to do himself, you lean over and run it across his lips. His heart skips, but he figures it’s just from surprise. No one has ever applied chapstick on him before – well, not this way. You run it along his lips slowly, making sure to get every crevice. You now notice just how soft his lips look – like pillows, red and lush, as soft as his eyes. Your eyes linger a little too long, and you don’t notice that you slowed down, stopping your swipe half way.

“Uh, Y/N?” he says through the chapstick.

“Oh, shit,” you whisper. “Sorry – I was just – uh – I was thinking about something else.”

He quirks a brow, but doesn’t question it.

Steve’s nervous – no, Steve’s scared shitless. He had the shakes the entire day, considering not going through with the plan. He was horrified at the aspect of getting caught again, but more importantly, he was worried about you getting hurt. He would never be able to live with the guilt of getting you into something dangerous. The very thought of you getting the same treatment he did last year makes his stomach turn, makes him feel faint, makes him breathless. He was momentarily distracted from the fear when he saw you, but it’s back full force as you drive to the other side of town.

You notice his stiffness and the tension in the air. “Steve?”

“I’m scared,” he says, teeth chattering.

Your brows pull together in worry. “Do you want me to pull over?”

“No,” he says quickly. “No – I’ll be alright.”

You know better than to ask for an elaboration. You glance over at him and see his hands shaking, so you grab one and squeeze it. He squeezes back, and it’s a nice gesture – the bond of trust that you both have, solid and strong.

You pull into the parking lot at the bar and shut the car off. You turn to face him fully. He really looks like a vampire with his face drained of all color, terrified, but he swallows the apprehension and smiles. You smile back gently.

“ID?” you ask. He pulls his out and shows it to you – your hook-up was able to be quick and got it to you within a few days. Steve’s fake name was “Ford Skywalker” – you tried to explain that it was a silly name that was way too obvious, but he insisted.

“Weapon?” Your eyes glance to the bat, but he pats his hip and nods.

“Warning phrase?”

“Ghostbusters is on.”

You nod and sigh heavily. “Let’s do this.”

Steve is shitfaced within an hour.

You had suggested he try to drink something to get his nerves calmed, but he went a bit overboard. While you socialized and tried to find any clues that something was happening, Steve slammed back beer after beer. He felt lighter, better, happier with each sip, and by the time he was totally slammed, he was nearly in bliss.

Steve walks over to where you’re leaning against a tall table, where you’re nursing your first beer and observing the crowd. The bar was admittedly a bit crazier than you expected, more of a club than anything. Lots of people were dancing, the music was loud; if it weren’t for the potential tie to a murder, you’d think it was a great place.

Steve’s eyes are again drawn to your exposed legs, but also to your exposed neck. He thinks to himself how beautiful you look, how beautiful you always look, how it seems like you don’t even have to put effort into it.

“Hey,” he says as he leans in beside you. You smell him and know he’s gone too far. You open your mouth to scold him, but he cuts you off.

“You see that door over there?” he says, pointing towards a darkened corner. “The one that says ‘pirate’?”

You follow his gaze, eyes hardening when you see the door he is talking about.

“You think a pirate lives in there?”

You turn to look at him, pupils flaring. “I see a door marked private.”

Steve opens and closes his mouth a few times, embarrassed in his drunken state. “Uh… that’s – yeah, I said that?”

“No –“

“What did you think I said?” he slurs.

“Steve, you definitely said –“

“Are we gonna go find out if a pirate lives in there or what?”

You sigh out your entire soul and pinch the bridge of your nose. He is the one who suggested going to this bar, and now you’re carrying nearly all the weight of this investigation while he gets hammered. It’s irritating, to say the least, and all the weird things he has done since this started creep into your memory. But he did point out the door, and you hadn’t seen it before, so at least he was good for something tonight.

“Stay here while I go check it out,” you say. “I mean it – stay put.”

He salutes, then adds, “I’ll miss you.”

You ignore the butterflies in your stomach and head over to the door.

Upon closer inspection, it reads “VIP – PRIVATE LOUNGE.” Your brows furrow and you look around before pressing your ear to the door. Of course it’s loud all around you, and you can hardly hear – but you definitely hear some voices behind the door, and the language does not sound like anything you knew. You look around again and drop to the floor, peaking under it. You can see shoes, which is a start, but nothing very helpful. You sigh and dust yourself off, heading back to where you left Steve.

Except he wasn’t there.

You groan and search the crowd. He’s not very hard to find, dancing erratically in the middle of the floor, arms flailing about. You should have known better – of course he was going to dance. He dances all the time when he’s sober; it must increase tenfold when he’s drunk. You push past people to reach him, and he looks happier than you’ve ever seen him. It breaks your heart a bit. You wish he was this happy all the time, this carefree. His eyes reach yours and he grabs you quickly, pulling you to him. You open your mouth to protest, but the song changes.

It’s Come on Eileen. It’s Steve’s favorite.

“Oh, fuck yeah!” he shouts, fist punching the air, and he grabs you again, spinning you around before dancing.

Seeing Steve dance sober was a spectacle enough. Seeing Steve dance drunk was almost too much to handle.

His body has no limits. His arms fly out, he spins, he kicks. His head bangs so hard that it must hurt, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t have a care in the world – all he notices is the beat, the music. Steve moves all around, crazily, happily, and you can’t help but laugh at the sheer delight he exhibits.

You think he looks beautiful. You think maybe you love him.

He grabs you and spins you again. “Dance with me!”

You decide that you will, letting some stress off of you, too. He flings his arms around your waist as the song slows. You wrap yours around his neck and stare up at him, once again captured by his eyes. He’s caught by yours, too, and he thinks he feels even dizzier while he looks at you, hardly even moving, just taking you in.

As the pace picks up, Steve’s hands slide up, grabbing yours. He clutches them tightly and smirks before spinning you. It garners attention, and you beg him to stop, but he keeps spinning you until the song takes off again. He spins on his own and continues to dance while you laugh and catch your breath. You wish you were still mad at him, but seeing him like this makes you remember why he was so special to you.

The song fades and he turns to look at you. He’s smiling widely, but then his face falls.

“I’m gonna be sick.”

You usher him outside quickly and pat his back as he leans over a set of bushes. He pulls back and wipes his mouth, making your face scrunch. He smiles cheekily. “You’re cute when you’re grossed out.”

“Come on, Ford,” you say, leading him to your car. You get the door for him and he bows, laughing nearly hysterically, before climbing in.

“If you puke in my car, you’re dead,” you warn, and he nods with a thumbs up.

As you drive, his hands reach over to you and rest on your knee. Your heart leaps to your throat, but you try to seem unfazed. “Getting handsy, buddy?”

“Legs,” he responds.

You pause. “Yes.”

“They’re nice,” he says, rubbing circles into your knee. You roll your eyes as you scream internally.

You pull into his house, bat forgotten in the back seat, and you help him inside. He steps inside and shouts, “Daddy’s home!” before reaching into the pockets of his duster and pulling out two cans of pepper spray.

Your eyes follow the cans as they drop to the floor, head racing – didn’t he just point to his hip earlier? He continues to undress, for no apparent reason.

“Hey, hey,” you say, lunging for him before he takes his shirt off. “You’ve got company, bud.”

“Oops!”

Steve reaches down into his pockets and pulls out a swiss army knife and a tactical pen. He reaches into his waistband and produces another knife, similar to the one you have. You’re thoroughly shocked and confused. “What the hell is this all about?”

He looks at you like you’re stupid. “I have to have weapons, Y/N.”

“Where did you even get these? Did Jonathan get you them, too?”

“Nah,” he slurs. “Got ‘em myself after last year.”

Your heart slams in your chest and you want an explanation, but you know you won’t get one. What the hell happened to him last year that makes him carry around this kind of shit? And that bat?!

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks. He steps towards you and wraps his arms around your waist. Your cheeks flush but you have no complaints. His hand reaches down and he runs it lightly up your leg. “I know where you keep yours!”

“Steve!”

“What?” he asks, genuine confusion written on his features. You step out of his grasp (it was admittedly not that tight) and he seems to forget the incident even happened. You’re disappointed with yourself – disappointed that you wanted more than that, and the heat of his fingers was still felt on your thigh. You shake your head to clear it and you sit him on the couch. After getting him a water bottle and some pills to take in the morning when he inevitably has a hangover, you pull him back up again. You guide him to the bathroom and he brushes his teeth.

He frowns as he looks at himself in the mirror, then grabs a washcloth and wipes the makeup off. “I look like a clown.”

“You are a clown,” you tease, and he smiles, content with the observation. He runs his hands through his hair rapidly to release the gelled-down locks and shakes it out. It’s wild, but quite handsome.

“Better?” he asks.

“That’s up to you, champ,” you say, taking his arm and leading him into his bedroom.

“Did I tell you that you have a really nice house?” you ask, lugging him down the hall.

“Do you wanna tour?” he asks, stumbling a bit.

“I want you to sleep, Harrington.”

You follow his lead to find his bedroom, as there are quite a few doors in his house. You’re surprised at how well kept it is – he even made his bed.

“Thought you’d be a slob,” you quip, and he shakes his head vigorously, but has no verbal retort.

You look away as he changes into a shirt and boxers, instead focusing on putting the pills and water bottle down and getting his bed ready for him. You hear him come up behind you and begin to turn, but he grabs you by the waist and pulls you right into bed with him.

You don’t know if this is your worst nightmare or best dream. You’d always wanted to be close to him like this, but not like this. Not while he’s drunk and stumbling, slurring his words together. But the feeling of his arms wrapped around you, pressing you against him, was nearly too much to handle.

“Stay,” he whispers. “Please.”

“Steve,” you whisper back, avoiding eye contact. You know if you look at him that you’re fucked.

“Please,” he repeats, pulling you tighter. Your hands rest on his chest, and you chance a look up.

Big mistake.

To you, his eyes say everything. Steve looks at you like you’re the only person in the world. It’s intense and passionate, yet quiet and contemplative. His lips are quirked up in a smile, and you don’t know if you’ve ever seen a more beautiful sight than him above you, messy hair covering his forehead, eyes locked with yours.

Robin’s warning rings through your head. “You need to be careful with him.”

“I’m worried you’re going to fall for him, and not be able to have him.”

Maybe Robin was right – or maybe she was wrong. She’d been wrong before – one time she told you a note was an E flat when it was an F sharp, and one time she told you that it was spaghetti for lunch when it was actually hamburgers. So she could be wrong about this, right? And drunk people are the most truthful, aren’t they? Steve’s being pretty handsy and sweet tonight. Maybe she was wrong.

“Steve.”

He leans in, not to kiss, but because he can’t hear you.

But you think it’s for a kiss.

“Are you sure?” you whisper, barely audible.

He thinks you’re talking about staying the night.

“Yeah,” he slurs, brows knitted. “Of course.”

You smile, heart soaring. If you’ve ever been this happy before, you don’t remember.

You start to lean in, and Steve’s brows knit together even more, to the point that it hurts. For a second, he’s confused – but then he gets it.

He’s out of the bed in less than a second.

You blink in surprise and sit up, pain and confusion coursing through you. Steve sobers up enough to realize this cannot happen. He sobers up enough to remember why he can’t be with you, why he swallows his feelings, why he has been vague and discreet with you the past few weeks. He remembers why he didn’t hang out with you for a long time.

He remembers why he can’t have you.

The room is silent before he finally speaks. “What are you doing?”

“I thought –“

“What are you doing?”

It feels like a slap in the face. Irritated and hurt, you respond, “Well, I thought you were trying to kiss me.”

He shakes his head, eyes wide. “What? Why?”

You crawl out of the bed, standing on the opposite side of Steve. “Because I asked if you were sure, and you said ‘of course’?”

He blinks, dumbfounded. “No, I didn’t.”

Confusion twists into you deeper. “Yes, you did?”

“Y/N,” he breathes. “I can’t kiss you.”

“Why?” You’re hurt, but more confused than anything. Like Steve is trying to pull a sick joke or something. “You’ve been feeling me up all night – looking at me like –“

“Like what?” he snaps.

You shrink, eyes downcast. “I don’t know.”

“Like what?” he repeats, standing still as a statue. His anger grows and he directs it towards you. “Like what, Y/N?”

You shake your head, desperate. “Like – like you – I don’t know, like you thought… like you liked me.”

He shakes his head again. “Y/N, we’re just friends. We’re friends. I’m sorry if you misinterpreted things.”

Your heart pangs. Your confusion turns to fury. “Why do you always lie?”

“What?”

“Why can’t you be real with me, for one minute? Just one minute? Why can’t you tell me what’s going on – why can’t you be real with me?”

He crosses his arms and scoffs. “Want me to be real with you?”

You nod.

“It is impossible for me to love you.”

The silence that falls over the room is deafening. You swear you could hear your heart breaking, splintering apart like wood.

The pause lasts a long time. Finally, meekly, you whisper, “Do you mean that?”

“Of course, I mean it,” he spits, eyes glaring into yours. They aren’t warm anymore; they’re cold and unforgiving. They’re mean. They’re sharp and harsh. “It’s impossible for me to love you, to be with you, to think about you like that. I could never be with someone like you.”

Steve’s voice is unwavering, as is his gaze. He reminds you of stone, rough and painful and cold. The confession, however, is devastating, and it takes a conscious effort for you to keep upright. You swallow hard as a million thoughts race into your mind, as your emotions come and go rapidly.

“I thought you changed,” you finally say, voice cracking. You can’t stop the hot tears from falling onto your cheeks. “I thought you changed, Steve. But you’re the same asshole you were in high school.”

You turn on your heels, beelining for the door. As you swing it open, you look back at him – his face is still nothing but mean and uninviting. You’ve never seen him like that before. “Enjoy being alone again, your highness.”

You slam the door behind you but stop yourself from going down the stairs. A part of you thinks he will come out and get you – wrap you up in his arms like he always does, pull you to him, say he’s sorry.

But he never comes.

You descend the stairs slowly, listening with strained ears for any sound of him following you.

Nothing.

You pause at the front door, fiddling with the lock. You click it so that it’s ready to lock behind you. You look back up the steps, but only find darkness. You look forward again and step over the threshold, slamming the door behind you.

Steve crumbles to the ground when he hears the front door close. He puts his head in his hands and sobs, pulling his arms around himself tightly. The image of you, heartbroken, sad, devastated, all because of him, floods through his mind.

He tried to protect you the wrong way, from the wrong people.

He’s not really sure why he’s so upset – it’s not like he’s never lost friends through a big blow out before. And he doesn’t regret pushing you away – it’s what needed to be done to keep you safe. But the emptiness he feels inside himself is greater than he felt when he cut off Tommy and Carol, and he can’t understand. All he knows is that it hurts.

You lean against the steering wheel of your car, absolutely enraged that it still smells like his woodsy cologne. You sit up to wipe at your face and remember the bat in your back seat. You feel the urge to bring it in to him, but you can’t bring yourself to go back in. Instead, you grab a Smiths album from your console – playing it not only because you’d feel it, but also because you know Steve hates them – and blast it as you pull out of his driveway and careen down the road.

You didn’t notice the black car sitting on the corner as you sped off, and you didn’t notice it pull into Steve’s driveway as you left him behind you.

=====

taglist (join here): @harrington-ofhawkins @wolfish-willow @gothackedalready @m-blasterrr @sourapplebaby @bluebellbrooke @sassisaluxury @comedy-witch

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #the partners #my fics #very PROUD of this one fellas... (lights cigar)

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marshmallowprotection · 3 years

Note

hi can i request a matchup? :)

i use they/them and my appearance is masc leaning androgynous. i have an undercut thats basically covered by my short dyed hair and im 5’4”. i wear baggier black clothing generally, but i want to take more inspo from the techwear style. usually have black nail polish on and the makeup i wear basically extends to a lip tint and eyeliner! i have 6 piercings in total (3 in each ear) and really want a tongue piercing and tattoos eventually :]

my personality— i act really cutesy/nice when i first meet people (to increase the chances of them liking me tbfh LOL) but once im more comfortable that persona kind of drops and i am just. a brat. just an absolute stinker man. like the type that shows my love by either ranting to them for 20 minutes without a breath or teasing them during conversation. i am. not usually a fan of opening up to people (i find it embarrassing) and deflect using humor. this usually goes out the window if im trying to relate to something someone is telling me, but id rather chug hot sauce than willingly open up on my own out of the blue LOL

speaking of ranting i genuinely do not stop thinking about things i like the entire day. im an ISTP and i usually like entertaining myself by making content for the things im really interested in at the moment (which usually changes monthly to yearly), so i have a bunch of sketchbooks and notes filled with ideas or AUs or stuff like that. ive been drawing for around 7 years so its been a big de stressor for me :)!! i also have a lot of trouble keeping up with people/relationships in general due to my adhd :’). a lot of the time i just... forget that things outside of my own head exist? and then that turns into me accidentally ghosting my friends for a week or something. id like to think im pretty smart! i was in the gifted program when i was a little kid after they found out my iq made me “moderately gifted” whatever that means. im kind of going through a burnout atm but i am stubborn as fuck and live my life to spite people i dont like so i wont let this get me too down.

a lot of the relationships/super close friendships ive had ended badly bc of the therapist role i adopt early on (thats how i feel like i “earn” their affection at first). my love language is physical touch!

i really love tea and ghibli movies!! the things i like change often but those have been constant for as long as ive been alive haha, im also really into mythology and religion, specifically in relation to irish/celtic faerie lore! it really makes me want to live in places like that.

the one major dislike i have is when people assume things about me. whether thats what im gonna say or what im comfortable with, i wish they’d just ask me. largely because they get the assumptions wrong. something similar is when people lie to me unless they have an actual reason for it. little white lies people use to “spare my feelings” only make me feel like they cant trust me enough to tell me whats actually happening

for hobbies, as i said, i draw. but another major hobby i have is rock climbing! i like being active and ive been doing it for around the same time i picked up art. currently, im actually getting back into serious cosplay which is super fun! i put too much pressure on myself to make it look good (+ no funds) that i sapped the fun out of it real quickly, but now im reapproaching it and i genuinely like it.

thank you so much :] have a good day!

I match you with....

Zen!

You have a very solid love language. You know what you like and you know how to treat the people around you with the utmost care and respect. Your friendship is like a whirlwind and there is no denying that. You're looking for people that you can show the world to and that you can hold on to when you need them the most. You know who you are and not a lot of people can say that they know that. This is that weightless feeling of knowing that you are who you are. You're always giving more of yourself and you intend to give. It's not always a bad thing but it does weigh on you like a rock at times because you wished that people would put you first instead of the other way around. That's not a selfish wish. You want someone to be honest with you. Even if it's not kind. You're just looking for someone who has a passion for life and a passion for you. That is why the person that works for you in these circumstances is Zen!

Not only are the two of you are very active and very open with everything that you enjoy. The passion that you have for the things that you try is insurmountable. There's no denying that you put your heart into everything that you do even if it changes every now and again. Zen is the kind of person that will love passion. He loves when he can see how much something means to someone and whenever he sees you exploring what makes you happy, nothing makes him happier. It took him forever to be able to find what made him a happy seeing other people experience that, especially the one that he cares about the most, is better than anything. Are both honest types and you're very blunt with each other and that keeps the relationship very healthy. Because neither of you have anything to hide it just means that you're both open books.

With a man like this at your side, you can learn what it feels like to have someone put you first. Your needs are what matter to him. It honestly might be a little overwhelming with how much praise he gives you, but with every kiss and with every nudge oh, he means every word that he says. You're the most wonderful person that he's ever met in his entire life and he wants to show you that so you can learn that for yourself.

#mod kait #mystic messenger #ask #anon #matchup #hyun ryu

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sunshine--temptress · 4 years

Text

Untitled Shawn Mendes/Reader [Angst with a happy ending]

It's been a while since I posted anything so here we go! Originally posted on 'babyboyshawny', I deleted blah blah blah you know the drill!

Please enjoy x

°•°•°•°

There's a knock on your door and the last thing you want is to see someone. Your eyes are puffy and red from crying, your hair is starting to feel greasy and you've been wearing the same old sweatpants and bathrobe for the past three days. All you did is watching crappy movies and eat junk food. The break up was your idea but it doesn't mean you're dealing well with it. Not being able to see or talk to Shawn is torture and you miss him so much. You know you took the right decision, you didn't want to be someone’s dirty little secret. His management team wanted him to look available and had asked him to hide your relationship from the public.

At first you were okay with the idea and understanding but as the months passed it was getting harder to see a new rumor about Shawn being linked to every new popstar every damn week, not being able to see him whenever you want and when you finally had some time together it was always hidden somewhere. It was impossible to go on date, walking down the street holding hands. You talked to Shawn about it and he promised it wouldn't be for long, that he would convince his manager to let you two date publicly but he never did and you finally got enough. You finally found the courage to cut things off with Shawn.

The person at the door knocks again, you sigh loudly and go to open the door. There is a delivery boy standing in the hallway, holding a big bouquet of all your favorite flowers, when he moves the flowers to give them to you, the judgement in his eyes when he sees in what state you’re in doesn't go unnoticed.

“Yes?”

“Hi, these are flowers from-”

“I'm pretty sure I know who they're from,” you interrupt the poor boy, but right at this moment you can't even care if you are being rude. You take the little card on top of the bouquet of flowers and read it.

‘I'm sorry, I love you. S.’

Can't even sign his name. You feel more and more angered, if Shawn thinks he can win you back with some flowers he's deeply mistaken.

“I don't want them,” you say and the delivery boy looks confused, it clearly never happened to him before, someone refusing flowers. Everybody loves flowers.

“But-”

“No but, give them to my neighbor or the first person you'll see in the street, I don't care. I just don't want them.”

The boy is standing there, awkwardly holding the flowers, still hoping you will take them and make his job easier but you give him a little apologetic smile and close the door. As soon as the door is closed you feel yourself starting to shake and your eyes fill with tears. You realise you are still holding the little card and you can't help but reread the words on them. You read them until the letters don't make sense anymore and everything is blurry because of the tears.You let yourself fall against the door and slide to the floor. With your head between your knees you try to catch your breath and stop crying. You tear the card into little pieces and let them fall on the floor. You have no idea how long you stay on the floor, long enough to feel your ass become numb and your neck hurting from the position its in. Getting back up on your feet, you clean up the mess you made and go back to the living room. You fall on the couch and bury yourself under your blanket, falling asleep in a matter of seconds.

Of course the universe seems to be against you because you see Shawn everywhere, every magazine you look at, every time your turn on the tv, every time you open the radio his songs are playing... You have to concentrate very hard to no break down in public every time something reminds you of Shawn. The worst thing is that you have no one to talk to. Shawn had to keep your relationship from the public, but you had to keep it a secret from your friends and family. You told one friend, your best friend since kindergarten. You wish you could talk to her now but she is on her honeymoon, a month in Greece, and who takes a month long honeymoon? Well, your best friend apparently, and for a moment you hate her for having everything you want. It doesn't last, it's not her fault after all.

You just sit in your car, when you hear your phone vibrating in the front pocket of your purse. You answer without looking at the call id and your breath catch in your throat when you hear Shawn's voice.

“Hey,” his voice is soft, like he doesn't want to scare you, “how are you?”

“Shawn, you can't call me,” you say, ignoring his question. He must know how you feel.

“I miss you,” he whispers and once again your eyes filled with tears, and it's not the time, you have to get to work and you don't have time to touch up your makeup.

“Shawn, please stop.”

You reach for the glove compartment and takes the small tissue box out of it. Taking one, you try to pat your eyes dry without smudging your eyeliner.

“I miss you,” he repeats, “I need to see you.”

Breath in, hold, breath out, breath in, hold, breath out, breath in, hold, breath out.

“No, we can't see each other,” you finally reply. You can't see him because you know the second you lay your eyes on him you will cave in and it took you long enough to end your relationship, there is no way you will go back to him. Not so fast.

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” you say, because there is no point in lying, you haven't stopped loving him.

“Then why did you broke up with me?”

The question angers you because you know he knows the reasons.

“You know exactly why Shawn and until things change, we can't be together. Please just, just don't call me anymore.”

Not letting him time to say anything else, to say it will change, that he will talk to his team, you hang up and put the phone back in your purse. You look at yourself in the mirror on the back of the sun visor to make sure you still look presentable, and it's a miracle your mascara and eyeliner didn't run down your cheeks. You close the visor and start the car. It will be a long day.

Surprisingly Shawn listened to you and stopped calling. He still send a text message from time to time, asking you how you are doing, telling you he's nervous about an upcoming appearance on a morning TV show or when he sees something that reminds him of you. You never reply, you want to, so bad, but you know you can't let him win you back with pretty words and empty promises. When you were together he promised many times that soon you’d be able to live your relationship openly but it never happens. You still wonder if he really talked to his team if he just said that to appease you, to make you stay.

Day turns into weeks and weeks into months and you still feel sad sometimes, you're getting better. It's easier to smile and laugh. Shawn stopped texting you a while ago and it hurts at first because you felt like he had finally gave up on winning you back. You know your thoughts are contradictory but deep down you loved when he messaged you random things but it also helped you when he stopped. You realise it's when you started feeling better.

When you open your tv and see Shawn, which happen all the time since he's back on tour, you don't feel like your heart is breaking, you don't shake and cry anymore. You still love him, with all your heart but you let go of your anger and prefer to remember all the good times you had together.

You wake up from the incessant vibration of your phone on the nightstand. You rub your eyes with the back of your hands and take your phone. It's only 7 a.m. and you have nine missed text from your best friend. Your guts twist, she never message you like that unless there is an emergency and as you swipe your finger across the screen to unlock your phone, you fear for the worst. You open the messages and all you see is eight messages in caps lock and your friend seems very excited about something. It must be important because she never do this.

[6:40] OH. MY. GOD.

[6:43] YOU'LL NEVER BELIEVE THIS

[6:47] COME ON WAKE UP!!

[6:47] WAKE UP!

[6:48] WAKE UP!

[6:49] WAKE UP!

[6:53] YOU HAVE TO SEE THIS!!!!

[6:57] WATCH THIS!!!

The last message is a YouTube link. You click on it, not too sure about what you're about to look at. The YouTube app open and it's a fan video from Shawn's last show. For a second you almost close it, not sure you want to see whatever happens in this video but you trust your friend and she wouldn't send something that could upset you.

Shawn looks gorgeous, as always, he's wearing his usual tight black jeans and a deep red shirt, his messy curls falling on his forehead and you swallow the thick balls of emotions forming in your throat. You miss playing with his hair while he laid his head on your thighs. He's talking to the crowd and you realise you haven't heard a word he said when you hear the girl holding the phone scream an excited “oh my god”. You start the video again and this time you pay attention to what Shawn is saying instead of just looking at him.

“The next song is a new one, I wrote it for someone really dear to my heart. Last year I met an incredible woman who made me extremely happy, but I have been an idiot and I let her go. I don't know if she will see this, I hope she does, because I love her with all my heart and I don't want anything to keep us apart. I love you and this song is for you, this is ‘Because I had you’.”

Shawn takes his guitar from behind his back and you start crying at the moment you hear the first notes and the lyrics.

“I think it's time that I be honest Should've told you not to go Thought I knew just what I wanted I didn't know myself at all…”

The video ends and you don't know what to do, you're frozen in place, in the middle of your bed. You can't believe what just happened. Shawn really did that, you don't know if his management team let him do it or if it was his way of telling them to fuck off but either way Shawn did it. He did what you wanted him to do for months. You have to call him, you need to talk to him. He said he hoped you would see this and he said he still loved you.

You put your phone back on the nightstand, deciding to get dressed before you call Shawn. It will give you the time to get your ideas in order. You're standing in front of your closet, searching for your favorite sweater when there’s a knock on the door. You grab your bathrobe from the chair in the corner of your room and you shiver when your bare feet touch the ceramic tiles in the lobby. You open the door and Shawn is standing there, a small smile on his lips and your heart is suddenly beating so fast you fear it will leap out of your chest.

“Can I come in?” he asks gently and you move to the side and let him in. The door close behind him and you catch him by the lapel of his coat and crash your lips together, catching him off guard. He puts his warm hands on your hips, under your bathrobe and you sigh. Eventually you break the kiss but you keep your forehead pressed against his, breathing deeply.

“How did you know I wouldn't close the door in your face at the second I saw you?”

He looks at you and he has a sheepish grin on his face.

“I made sure you saw the video, I sent it to your friend asking her to send it to you. But honestly I don't know how you would react, I just hoped for the best.”

“I can't believe you really did that.”

“My manager is pissed at me but it's worth it if it means I get to have you in my life. He'll get over it, but I can't get over you.”

You’re smiling so much your face is starting to hurt but you just can't stop. You know you will have to talk about it but right now all you want is being close to Shawn. You take him by the hand and dragged him to your bedroom. Talking can wait.

#Shawn Mendes #Shawn Mendes fic #Shawn Mendes fanfic #Shawn Mendes fanfiction #Shawn Mendes x reader #Shawn Mendes x you #Shawn Mendes/reader #Shawn Mendes/you #Shawn x reader #Shawn x you #Shawn Mendes fluff #Shawn Mendes angst #my writing

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headoverhiddles · 5 years

Text

Hotel, Motel, Holiday Inn - Marilyn Manson x Reader [Smut]

Synopsis: You, your boyfriend Brian, and his best friend Jeordie are forced by lack of finances to share a hotel room one night while Brian's band performs in Miami Beach. You two have to be quiet not to wake Jeordie...

Notes: Set during Spooky Kids era!! Partially inspired by this video. **Twiggy wasn't a part of the band at this point in time, but fuck it. I wanted to include him.

July 17, 1992.

"I've got... thirteen dollars."

Everyone (aka you, Brian and Jeordie) is sitting around in a circle on Jeordie's messy living room floor.

You and your boyfriend look over to the bassist.

"Thirteen?" Brian sputters, "You stupid fucker, you had 500 dollars last night. Where the hell'd all that go, up your ass?"

Jeordie picks at a hangnail. "Hookers and blow." He begins to pat his leg, drumming a beat. "We should make that a song..."

"We have better things to sing about than hookers and blow," Brian snaps.

"I don't know, I think it'd go with your whole theme," you tease, resting your head on his shoulder. Brian glances down, gaze softening fondly as his fingers thread with yours.

"Yeah, says the girl who probably encouraged him to burn our valuable hotel money on dumb shit last night."

You giggle. "I promise, I had nothing to do with it. Besides, I was with you last night, remember?" Brian smirks, recalling the record you two set.

"Yeah. I remember making you come a bunch of times. What was the challenge again?"

"I dared you to make me come more times than my vibrator could in one night."

"Mmm, and did I pass?"

"With flying colours."

Jeordie whistles, then tries to flip one of the coins from the pooling pile on the floor. It pings off something then disappears into the pit that is his studio apartment.

"Twelve seventy five," Jeordie corrects, staring sadly behind him at the lost quarter. Brian shakes his head, scratching through his hair.

"Jesus Christ, what are we gonna do?! This is a huge stop on the tour. Daisy, Pogo, and Sarah are already there, and the Spooky Kids can't afford to cancel this show because we're... fuckin broke hobos!"

"I'm not a hobo..." Jeordie whispers, watching an ant crawl across his toe. Brian scrapes up some bills to count again, painted fingernails a blur as he shells them out. You count your own too, nodding.

"Okay. I've got 210. Together with your 600... we should have enough for airfare and hotel room, for one night."

Jeordie gives a punched out snort-laugh, staring at the ceiling like it's about to cave in. "Yeah, for one shared room between the three of us."

You and Brian look at each other, shrugging. Jeordie hesitates, then looks at you two in distress.

"Awww."

So, the next day, after successfully making it to the next stop on the Spooky Kids' tour by way of crappy budget airline, you get to the hotel to check in before the show. It's not awful-- it's a pretty good motel, at least.

"I can't wait til we can afford a tour bus," Brian growls miserably, flopping down on one of the double beds. It shoots his lanky body up four feet off the bed as the overly-loaded springs catapult him, and you double over with laughter. Though he looks ready to murder, your laugh is infectious, and Brian starts to chuckle too.

"What the fuck is this?" He goes on, picking up a towel folded into a swan. He turns it around, and pretends to stick his dick into it, humping it as he waddles around the room.

"It's a swan," Jeordie smiles, face smushed into his own bed opposite yours, "I requested the towels be made into pretty swans for us."

"Yeah?" Brian discards the towel in a heap. " Did you also request little chocolates be left on our pillow every night, princess?"

"Dammit. I knew I forgot something."

"Why did we let Jeordie book this?" you groan. "We all know I'm the responsible mom here."

"I beg to differ," Brian says, crawling over top of you and securing his stringbean limbs around you like a giant spider. "I'm more of a mom than you." You giggle.

"Says the man who just pretended to fuck a towel swan."

"What do you mean pretended? That slutty motherfucker's got my jizz all over him, he was begging for it." Brian grins, collapsing on top of you, and you shriek as he attacks you with kisses.

"Go put your makeup on, or you'll be late getting on stage! Then nobody'll ever know who the Spooky Kids are, and your career will never take off, all because you wanted to fuck your girlfriend. Again."

"I'll just tell the bouncers we were busy with hookers and blow, like proper rockstars," Brian murmurs, sucking a hicky into your neck. "They'll buy anything people like us feed em."

"Hookers and blow?" Jeordie perks up, turning to you two.

"No," you and your boyfriend both say at the same time.

Brian does his makeup with a little help from you, and Jeordie does as well. Brian's lower face is covered in red lipstick, and he’s got his striped pink and black leggings on, with an unbuttoned vest and a cat in the hat top hat on his head, long hair brushed out and down to his waist. Jeordie's got one of his green ragdoll dresses on, dreads done up in pigtails.

You three meet up with the other band members, all dressed and ready for the show as well, and you can immediately tell Brian is slipping into his stage persona when he tells the bouncer to go fuck himself on a butcher knife after being asked for ID. (You display the IDs you've got in your purse with many apologies after your boyfriend and his delinquent band waltz in like they own the place, despite the fact that they're only the opening act.)

You stand in the front row of the make-do mosh pit of the dive bar, all big smiles and support. Despite what your family warns you, you have the utmost faith in Brian and his aspirations, and even though he's got an absolute clusterfuck of personalities making up the band behind him, it's a wild wonder of a musical act, and you just know the five of them are gonna go places someday.

"Good evening, all you crazy motherfuckers here in Miami Beach," Brian points out to the crowd, "Let's fuck shit up!" Their opener, Thrift, leads to Lucy In The Sky With Demons, then eventually to everyone's apparent favourite, if the cheering is any guage-- Lunchbox. You like that song too, bouncing around and screaming for it like one of the fans for the night. Brian keeps looking at you, and halfway through the song, he pulls you up on stage, obscenely groping his hands all over your breasts and sucking on them through your bra. You don't mind-- you make a show of moaning, squeezing them together, until you eventually slap him off, wag your finger, and slip back into the crowd, to the laughter and heckles from the crowd.

The show goes later than expected due to the enthusiasm of the crowd. After the show, everyone hung around the bar for a bit too, drinking a couple beers and doing a few lines of coke to mingle with any ego-stroking fans or labels that may have been scouting.

The guys are still all riding the high of the adrenaline and drugs, but it's 3 in the morning now, and since you three have not only one shared suitcase and one shared hotel room but one shared brain cell as well, you all decided it would be a good idea to book a 7 am flight home.

Well. Blame it on it being the most affordable return time.

Once you get back to the room, some Judas Priest is cranked on the tinny room radio because "fuck the other hotel guests, I'm Marilyn Manson", and the air guitars are broken out.

Brian inspects himself in the mirror, making Herculean poses and sticking his tongue out grotesquely, checking for warts or something. He pinches his nipples, scratching down his pale torso.

"I need more tattoos."

"The ones you have now are rad," you mention, kicking off your shoes, "But a few more would make you look even more badass."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, I already wouldn't want to fuck with you. More tattoos? I'd be terrified."

"I thought you were already terrified. You scream every time you see my cock."

"That's cause it's so big..." You playfully lick your lips.

"Yeah? You wanna suck it?" Brian unzips his pants. "Wanna suck on it, baby?"

"I wanna get into bed, is what I want to do," you yawn, peeling your top off and tossing it at Jeordie. Jeordie catches it and dutifully slingshots it into your great big shared suitcase. The neighboring hotel room tenants bang on the wall, mumbling something bitterly incoherent about turning the music down.

"I will kick down your door and skullfuck you, you entitled asshole!" Brian shouts back. The pounding stops abruptly, and you question how you haven't been arrested yet.

"Seriously, I think it's time for bed though," Jeordie mumbles, crawling under his covers like an elderly cat. He jumps and frowns at something on the wall, something you're glad you can't see.

"Fine, grandpa," Brian rolls his eyes, and kills the volume on the rock station.

Five minutes later, you come out of the bathroom in one of Brian's oversized Black Sabbath T-shirts, and run a hand through your hair, walking over to get into bed with Brian. He's still scrubbing some of the eyeliner at the sink, and you beckon him.

"Come here. I wanna cuddle."

Brian grunts, and rubs his face once more, walking over to the door naked save for his boxer briefs to make doubly sure it's locked.

"Only space for three psychos in this room," he says, then does a barrel roll into bed, sweeping the covers over you both. The light is turned out, and Brian snuggles into you from behind, wrapping his arms around your middle.

"Bri," you whisper. He hums into your hair.

"Yeah."

You flip around to face him, your noses touching. He blinks, and you bite your lip, reaching under the covers. He bites back a moan, and you lean in to whisper.

"I'm wet for you."

Brian immediately looks over, and tosses a pillow at his best friend's head. "Hey Jeordie, fuck off for the night."

"What? No! I'm... trying to sleep..."

"The one night he decides not to get shitfaced and wander the streets," Brian sighs.

"It's no fun to do that yourself," Jeordie mopes. "Actually, that's not true. I'm just tired."

"Fuck," Brian mutters. You two let a few seconds go by.

"Is he asleep?" you whisper.

"I think so," Brian mumbles back, then gasps as you cup him again through his underwear, reaching in with the other hand to wrap around his half-hard dick.

"(y/n), I gotta be in you," he hisses, "Fast."

"Just... shhh..." you giggle, and he bites his lower lip, rolling on top of you under the covers. His long raven hair curtains around you, and he reaches down to pull his dick out. You wiggle your hips excitedly, holding onto his forearms, and he takes a condom off the bedside table, rolling it on. He winces at the contact, the touch of his own hand to get the rubber on enough to make him harden even more. He moans, finally pushing into you.

"O-oh..." you try to keep your voice down to a squeak. "Bri... Bri, Bri, Brian, fuck... I love your cock..."

"Call me Marilyn," he whispers.

"Hmm?"

"Call me Marilyn, I wanna hear you say it," he grunts, rocking his hips in again. He holds your wrists together above your head as his thrusts get deeper.

"God, please... fuck me harder, Marilyn," you breathe softly. His pace increases, both of you still attempting to be quiet so as not to wake your partner.

"Yeah... yeah, yeah," he whispers, "Fuck yeah, baby. You're so good for me. God, oh..."

Your eyes roll back as you smile in bliss, feeling your hands down your boyfriend's back as he does his best to make you come not in record quantity tonight, but record time.

"That feel good?"

"Uh huh..."

"Your pussy feel good now? Nice and full?"

"Yeah, oh my god. Mar... Marilyn..." You feel your orgasm coming, so you hook your feet just above his ass and smirk, thinking of something you know will do the trick. It may be dumb, but it's bound to work.

"It feels so fucking amazing getting fucked by the antichrist."

He buries his face beside your shoulder as his hips stutter, and you can feel him finish inside the condom, thrusting his hips erratically and quickly as he milks it. Each thrust is taking you closer, and you two breathe and pant together as Brian holds you, making you come with wave after wave of a gorgeous climax.

"Ah, fuck that was good," you breathe. Brian rolls off of you, depositing the condom and tucking it under his pillow. You wrinkle your nose. “Ew, man.”

"It'll make housekeeping smile. She can sell it on eBay, make more than we earn in a tour. Or she can jam it up inside her and call us for child support."

You giggle, and slap his chest lightly. He kisses you, and settles comfortably down beside you again, slipping his arms underneath yours.

"Do you think Jeordie's still asleep?" you whisper, stifling a laugh. Suddenly, a clear voice rings out.

"If you two loud assholes think I slept through that, then you must think I'm fucking deaf," Jeordie blurts. "Assholes."

Brian starts laughing, even as his friend keeps calling him an asshole. "You're next," Brian teases, and Jeordie sighs.

"Leave me alone and let me sleep."

"Get the lube, (y/n), it's Jeordie's turn to be violated by the dirty man who broke into this hotel room, aka me."

"Fuck off!"

"Fine, fuck you, more dick for (y/n)," Brian grins, and you smile, holding him to you.

You listen to the white noise of the deteriorating air conditioner. The rhythmic rising and falling of his chest tells you he's passed out behind you, dreaming and adorable with his face pressed into the back of your neck.

You glance behind you. "Jeord, babe? Sorry for keeping you up. Really."

Jeordie just smiles. "Honestly, I was listening the whole time to see what his secret is. How do you make someone come that much? It's insane."

You giggle into the pillow, and Brian wakes up long enough to croak: "Cause I am the God of Fuck."

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fromthadiningtable · 5 years

Text

Nikki Sixx x Reader Imagine: Brotherly Love

[Anon request: Could you write something about nikki sixx where you are Tommy's sister and he has a crush on you and fluff please]

Warnings: language, fluff

Of course, Tommy had the car for the night. He always had the car for the night and was always stealing your cute clothes and always playing the drums way too loudly. But you loved him. Your brother was definitely a crazy guy, but he was endearing and caring and loved you just as much. At certain times though, especially when you needed the car, you would get aggravated with him and how up in the clouds he seemed to be lately. He had just joined a new band and it seemed to be what was taking up so much of his time and thoughts. You were proud though, he was genuinely happy and seemed ambitious about this new gig. Regardless though, you needed the car and now you were stuck in the house for the night because of your brother. Your parents didn’t even seem affected by this issue, as per usual. You decided you’d call one of your friends for a ride to the strip and you’d go and find him yourself. You’d done this before, confronting your brother in public about household grievances. It usually either went really well or was a complete disaster. You decided to gamble your chances at this point.

The strip was the place to be on a night like this. The summer air was creeping in and becoming a little hotter each day. Everyone was out of school, so everyone was running around like crazy trying to get their kicks wherever they could.

“Where do you think he is?” Your friend asks you as you ride down the strip, checking every marquee for the band name he had mentioned only a few times.

“I don’t actually know the name, I’d have to see it and then I’ll recognize it.” You admitted while continually scanning the street. Tommy had only mentioned his band name a few times, worrying he might jinx their success if he acted too excited in the beginning. You did know he had practicing like a maniac the past couple of weeks though, so it must be really important to him.

“There, right there!” You exclaimed, as you saw Mötley Crüe in black letters on one of the signs you had passed by. Your friend turned around and went back to the building that was lit up with lights and dropped you off with a farewell telling you to be careful. You always were, the strip could be rough but you always kept your wits about you. You prayed that your ID would pass as you walked up to the line and waited for your turn as everyone inched to the front. You tried to act as naturally as you could, you weren’t twenty one yet so you knew you could be turned away. You also knew that your brother must have some hidden charm because he was also underage but managed to get into every club on this block.

“Sorry sweetie, too young.” The bouncer said, as you look cluelessly at him.

“No no, my brother’s playing in that band. I just need to talk to him really quickly.” You explained and pointed up at the marquee for emphasis.

The bouncer laughed and handed your ID back while shaking his head. This one isn’t going to let up anytime soon, you thought.

“Look, can you at least ask him to come out here? I honestly only need about five minutes.” You even attempted to bat your eyelashes at him, just for added affect and hope that he would let you in.

“They’re playing their set as we speak, so no. Next please.” He said and began checking IDs behind you and letting people in. Frustrated, you left the line and stood outside of the building for a moment. You weren’t one to try and sneak in and break the rules but tonight might be the night. You had nothing better to do, seeing as the car wasn’t in your possession and you were already here. You scaled to the back of the building, avoiding being seen by an bouncer outside of the clubs. After sneaking through a small alleyway, you saw a door on the back of the club and knew it was the one back stage. You could hear the drums and the guitars from outside and even some of the vocals. It was loud and it was definitely some heavy rock n roll but from what your ears could detect, it was some pretty good stuff. You smiled to yourself, proud of your brother and his new found band but quickly remembered why you were there in the first place. You opened the door with some anxiety about getting caught but now it would be on Tommy and you’d finally show him. Sure, you were younger but you could figure things out for yourself with or without the car and you had half a mind to finally tell Tommy off about always taking it. The thrill of everything happened finally convinced you to go all the way inside and the music filled your ears more fully now. It was good, something with a steady beat and an awesome guitar riff but of course you didn’t know the name. You’d have to ask more about it later but for now, the mission was to wait for Tommy backstage. You hoped their set wouldn’t be too much longer and you tried to blend in with the people backstage and find their dressing room so you could hide out. The music continued to go on and no one seemed to notice you were out of place at all. Finally, you found a door with the band name on it and crept inside, shutting the door so no one would come in.

The room wasn’t well lit and the place was already trashed, but you thought sitting on the small couch wouldn’t be a bad idea while you waited. There was makeup and wrappers and bottles all over the counter spaces and side tables. Some items of clothing were strewn across the floor. You looked around and listened to the music, waiting for the band to come in so you could confront Tommy. It was about another fifteen minutes until they finally exited the stage and were done with their set. A blonde haired guy walked in first with three others trailing behind him.

“Woah, who’s the hot chick?” The blonde boy grinned and began to show off his confidence.

“That’s my fucking sister, back off. What the hell are you doing here?” Tommy said, he didn’t seem angry but he definitely wasn’t overjoyed that you were here.

“Hello to you, too.” You rolled your eyes and continued on with what you had to say. “If you must know, I’m sick of you taking the car like I don’t have anything better to do. Mom and dad said nothing of course, so I’m taking action into my own hands.” You say back and crossed your arms.

“Jesus, Y/N. You’re not even old enough to get in!” He said back, getting slightly defensive.

“I have my ways, and apparently you do too.” You cocked an eyebrow at him, knowing he wasn’t of age either.

One of the guys with long dark hair and heavy eyeliner was practically eyeing you up and down from the corner of the room. When you caught his gaze, he smiled at you. It was really more of a smirk but he was clearly enjoying this banter between you and Tommy.

“I’m sorry about the car, wasn’t cool of me. But bottom line, you gotta get out of here before they catch you.” Tommy said, fixing his shirt in the mirror for a moment.

“I mean...she might as well stay?” The dark haired boy chimed in and you knew Tommy wouldn’t take it well.

“Yeah, T. Might as well stay,” you smirk at your brother, knowing he wants you out of there as soon as possible. Tommy didn’t mind you being around him and his friends, but if you got into any trouble, your parents would go absolutely ballistic on him.

“She might be young, but she’s your sister, so she must be cool.” The blonde also chimed in. You were enjoying all of this support from strangers, especially against Tommy’s judgment call.

The other dark haired guy who was sporting eyeliner as well, was keeping quiet by the blonde haired one. This was quite a bunch, you thought to yourself. Tommy was growing frustrated. He wanted to go out after the show without having to worry about you and keeping you safe. He loved you but you liked to do things separately and he knew these guys were also different from what you were used to.

“So, what’s it going to be?” You ask, as Tommy stands there not quite knowing what to say.

“I have an idea,” the dark haired boy chimes in once again.

Tommy glances back at him waiting for this grand idea.

“I’ll take her back to your house,” he said and winked at you. You scoffed, annoyed that now he was plotting to get rid of you altogether.

“No, I’m staying here.” You glared back at him as he smirked and then you looked at Tommy, raising your eyebrows.

“No no, this could work. Y/N, Nikki’s going to take you home. You can come out another night, I promise.” Tommy said, considering his options and realizing it would be easier than anything else. Nikki wanted to go out with his friends as well but you seemed to be a more appealing option at the moment.

You looked around the room and now, no one was coming to your rescue. You knew Tommy wasn’t going to budge, he was just going to pawn you off to someone else so he could have all of the fun. Deep down inside, you knew you couldn’t stay out as long as he could and at least he promised to let you come out some other time. You resided yourself to the fact that you would just catch a ride with this Nikki guy and have fun another time. Tommy rarely came back around on his word so easily.

“Fine.” You said and stood up. “Well, are we going?” You eyed Nikki from the door and he immediately walked over and held the door.

“Shall we?” He says, still with the smirk on his face.

“Take good care of her. No kissing or sex or anything close to those two things.” Tommy said and punched Nikki on the arm. Nikki gave him a look to clarify that his intentions were pure but you weren’t so sure. He’d been staring at you the whole night. Maybe this won’t be so bad, he’s pretty attractive, you thought to yourself as you both left the back of the club and headed to the street.

“Well, Y/N. I’m Nikki, the bass player. And what do you do?” He asked, looking at you from the side as you two walked around to his car parked on the street further down.

“I’m taking some college classes, and I sing a little bit.” You said nonchalantly.

“A singer, huh? I guess music runs in the family.”

“Oh I’m nothing special, just a little choir in school and shower singing.” You laughed a little at your own expense and he smiled as you said this.

“Singing is singing man, it’s a powerful way to express yourself.” He replied.

“Wow, who knew he was deep?” You said, crossing your arms as a breeze came along.

“Damn...you’re a mean one.” He was still smiling slightly at you as he said this, he liked the fire you had in you. Noticing you were cold, he removed his leather jacket and handed it to you.

“Oh no, I’m okay.” You pushed it away from your body.

“No, you’re cold. Just take it for now.”

You wrapped yourself up in the jacket and noticed that it smelled like a men’s cologne and a little bit of sweat. It wasn’t a bad smell, in fact you found it intoxicating. You felt a lot better now that the air was off of your arms as well. You both arrived at Nikki’s car and you both hop in. He opens the door for you and you’re surprised. He didn’t strike you as a gentleman in a lot of ways, but he was turning out to be one.

“Okay,” He says as he hops in the driver’s side, “I say we go grab some food before we head back.”

The idea of food actually did sound great, so you agreed to go to this diner that Nikki was apparently a huge fan of. The car ride consisted of the two of you mainly talking about how tonight’s show went and what other interests you had outside of music and school. He was incredibly curious about you and it showed.

You could see why he loved the diner so much. Not only was it packed with people (a good sign) but the staff seemed to know him and were already giving him some special treatment. He had a booth that he always sat in apparently and the waitress even grabbed him a Jack and coke without even having to be asked. You gawked at him from across the table, as he seemed so used to this.

“I come here a lot.” He said, looking down slightly almost embarrassed.

“I can tell.” You giggle to yourself as he downs a Jack Daniels mini bottle and washes it down with some coke out of a glass.

“So, what’s it like being Tommy’s little sister?” Nikki catches you off guard with this question. You thought he probably wouldn’t even bring it up. You didn’t want it to be awkward and didn’t want to feel like that annoying little sister that hangs around.

“I mean you know him, he’s crazy. I love him though, he makes me laugh and keeps me on my toes.” You say simply, to avoid furthering the conversation. Nikki nods his head in agreement. You both order some pancakes and continue to talk about how the band formed and how lucky they were that Tommy basically brought it all together. You were glad your brother had people like this he could rely on.

You felt Nikki staring at you again as you people watched around the room.

“What?” You finally asked, genuinely curious about his wandering eyes.

“You’re beautiful.” He said matter of factly. You were taken aback at his sudden honesty but flattered as well.

“Oh, well you’re not so bad yourself.” You tuck a stray hair behind your ear and glance down at the floor to avoid his gaze once more. You really did find him attractive and you felt guilty because all you could hear were Tommy’s words in your head. But after all, he was the dumbass that let you ride home with his attractive band mate and friend.

The pancakes came and there was silence while you ate, a sign that you were both hungrier than you thought. You looked at Nikki a few times across the table, looking down every time he’d catch you.

“It’s alright to look you know,” he grinned up at you after finishing a bite.

You blushed, not knowing why he was making you this nervous. After you both finished, Nikki decided it was time to get you home. You knew your parents would be worried soon, they always worried when you stayed out too late. It annoyed you slightly that they didn’t care about Tommy’s nonexistent curfew but you didn’t mind right now. The drive home, both of you were nervous. Nikki was confident before but now that you knew what he thought of you, it gave him butterflies.

As he pulled up to your house, he cut the radio off and sat in stillness.

“Well, here’s me.” You said, gathering your purse and other things and opening the door. Nikki leaned across you and shut the door, counteracting all your movements.

“I just wanna say, I know you really wanted to stay out, but I enjoyed dinner and hanging out.” He said, fiddling with the gear shift in the middle.

“I did too.” You smile back at him, cheeks burning like fire.

“And I meant what I said earlier,” Nikki said, now moving his hand over to your lap to place his hand on top of yours. Your heart rate began quickening and you began to sweat a little bit. You looked at him questioning what he meant.

“That you’re beautiful, I meant that.” He said, looking into your eyes from the driver’s seat. He leaned in closely and looked once more into your eyes again before placing a kiss on your lips.

You felt as if you should fight it, but you went with anyways. You opened your mouth ever so slightly and allowed his tongue inside of your mouth. You kiss like that for a few minutes until you both come up for air. Nikki held the side of your face in his hands, gently caressing your hair and placed one more kiss on your lips.

“I’d better get going, thank you. For everything.” You smile at him, finally opening the door for real this time.

He hands you a slip of paper with his phone number on it and he’s almost nervous to do so. You take it and smile at him which makes his heart rate skyrocket.

“There’s more where that came from,” he says, and you wave and head back inside, Nikki watching you the whole time.

Tags: @itsmotleyfuckingcrue @swoopygorl @madsthegroupie @caos18blog @pandem--onium @annabeth-14 @langdonsdemon @rxsesinjune @machinegunkiki @itsharleyalb @sisterchristixn @luv4fandoms @yesloverboy @solohqrry @anxious-diabetic @she-likes-dead-flowers @leterscam @kennisababe @twistnet @kat-976 @jongkey1221 @peyton-wieland

#personal #writings #the dirt #mötley crüe #douglas!nikki #douglas booth #nikki sixx #vince neil #mick mars #tommy lee #the dirt imagine

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escapingreality1992 · 4 years

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Strange Impressions Ch. 10

Two days after our capture, I returned to the compound to pack my things. I planned on moving in with Stephen; a new step in our relationship. Everyone appeared to be fine with the change; all except Tony, who tried to get me to stay at the compound.

“Tell him to move in here with you. I’ll miss you too much. Who will I go to for party ideas or for food? You’re one of the best cooks in the compound. Who will stop Loki from pranking me? Sophie don’t go. Please,” he begged, following me around the building as I moved boxes to the front entrance. I giggled at him, turning to place my palms on his shoulders.

“One, he can’t move in here. He has to be the protector of the Sanctum. Two, I’m sure there’s someone else who’s better with cooking and you have your own vault of ideas for parties. If you seek advice, I’m a phone call away,”

“But-,”

“Three, I will talk to Loki before I leave and convince him not to prank you. Don’t worry Tony. I’ll come back and visit some. How could I leave you behind? Plus, Natasha still lives here. I have to see my best friend too,” I told him.

“You better because who else will I talk to about relationship advice?” Nat asked, walking in the lounge. She came over to me, wrapping her arms around me.

“I don’t know Nat. You’ve got a handle on things with Steve. You may not need me anymore,”

“I’ll always need you. You’re my best friend. Stephen’s a lucky man. He’s got you after all,”

“I plan on keeping her. I can’t imagine my life without Sophie,” Stephen’s voice said from behind me. I turned and placed a kiss on his lips, standing beside him with an arm wrapped around his middle once I pulled back. I almost burst out laughing at Tony’s face; anger contorted his features making his skin red, a vein popping out on his forehead, a frown deep enough to produce more wrinkles.

“You! You’re taking my Sophie away from us. Give her back,” he growled. This time I did laugh at his outburst, reaching out with my free hand to pat his shoulder.

“Calm down. It’s not like I’m moving that far away. We’re still in New York. Does it matter that I love him? You’d do the same if Pepper asked you to move in with her. Let me begin my future with Stephen. Please?” I stated. Tony’s features softened, releasing a sigh of defeat.

“You’re right. Go on Sophie. Live with the wizard if he makes you happy,” he said.

“Thank you,” Stephen and I grabbed some boxes, leaving a portal open to remove all of them from the compound. Sticking to my promise to Tony about talking to Loki, I confronted the God and convinced him of not playing pranks unless he wanted to face my wrath, which was never good in some situations.

With the final box removed from the compound, we closed the portal and I placed my hands on my hips, staring at the stacks of boxes. I didn’t have much, but enough where I didn’t know where to start.

“Where to begin? Hmm…Maybe with-,”

“Sophie, you can have one of the spare rooms to store your belongings. Books can be added to the library downstairs. That’s the one where we keep our normal books separate from the magic volumes,” Stephen told me, grabbing a box and walking up the steps.

“Spare room? You don’t want me staying with you?” I asked, grabbing another one and catching up to him. He chuckled, turning his sparkling blue eyes on me.

“You’ll be sleeping in my room. Your clothes and other belongings will stay in the spare room next to mine. I’m not sure there’s enough room to fit both of our clothes. There’s enough room to fit you in my bed by my side. Think of all the possibilities,” he told me. The look he gave me at the statement sent tingles and heat throughout my body. I knew what he’s been implying, and a lot of scenarios came to my mind.

“You’re such a flirt, Doctor. Don’t stop on my account. In fact, you can flirt all you want. I enjoy every bit of it. I might even flirt back, handsome,” I commented, leaning close to his lips; his breath hitched, anticipating a kiss from me. Deciding to be a tease, I pulled back at the last second, walking past him, hips swaying, to the right where the spare room was located.

“You, Sophie, are a tease. Playing with my emotions like that. I might need to kiss you later or maybe…strip you from all those clothes and do some teasing of my own,”

“I might let you. Strip and tease me? Is that all you wish to do Stephen? What were to happen if I took off all your clothing now? Would you have sex with me on these stairs? What do you say, sexy? Wouldn’t it be fun?” I responded, placing my box down, approaching him. I ran my hands over his chest, grabbing the box from him and placing it aside.

I managed to back his body against the railing. He swallowed, getting nervous. His blue eyes darkened; pupils dilated with apparent desire. I ghosted my lips over his, those brilliant eyes of his closing as I did so. I moved my lips against his neck, kissing it swift and light, my hands finding their way under his shirt, his skin hot to the touch. Sliding them around to his back, I let my fingers brush over his muscles. I could hear his erratic breathing; it got heavier with each touch.

I pressed closer, his erection pushing against my thigh. Using it to my advantage, I moved my thigh slow against his jeans, causing friction, his length hardening even more.

“Sophie. Please, I…”

“Sh. Relax, enjoy the pleasure,” I continued my teasing, withdrawing once I sensed I’d done enough, leaving him with a simple kiss.

“Stephen, sweetheart. Open your eyes,” I stated. He released a shuddering breath, adjusting himself and cracked open his eyes, desire still lingering within them.

“How do you do that? When I first met you, I never realized you could be so…so…”

“Dominant?”

“Powerful. It’s not just the teasing or the domination, or the fire. It’s power. You’ve got an innate ability to take control. You saved me twice by doing just that. You’re magical,” he responded. Heat flushed my cheeks at his comment.

“You’ve realized this now? Did you think me weak before or-?”

“Sophie, you misunderstand me. You’ve never been weak to me. I knew you had power, a strength to which everyone should have. I meant you have more power than I previously though. It’s one of the things I love about you,” he answered. The heat deepened and I feared I resembled a tomato.

“Good. I love your power as well. I think it complements my own. We should get back to unpacking these boxes. Less mess in the Sanctum, the better,” We grabbed our boxes, toting them to the spare bedroom. I opened mine and put away my shirts, pants and dresses; Stephen helped hang thinks, discovering my lingerie at the bottom of his box.

“Will I get to see any of these on later?” he asked, arching an eyebrow. I took the lacy dress from him folding it to put it away in a drawer.

“Maybe. Do you…”

“Do I what?”

“Never mind,” I replied, tucking away the rest of the lingerie.

“What do you want to ask me?” he pressed, coming to me and lifting my chin with his fingers. His gaze held mine, opening up my walls.

“Do you ever think back to the night we met?” I asked. He smiled, kissing my forehead.

“Of course. Not every day, but whenever I’m missing you, I like to look back on it. The focus should have been on Tony’s birthday, but when Tony introduced us, I got lost focusing on you,” he told me. He kissed me, long and sweet, pulling back so we could resume unpacking the boxes. As we continued, I let myself drift off the very night of our first meeting.

One Year Ago

Tony’s birthday party had me looking for the perfect gift at the mall, going from store to store, unsure what he might want. The problem is he had most of everything; technology was out the question; he had already upgraded to the latest gadgets. I didn’t want to pick out clothing, not knowing if I’d great taste in that department. He didn’t wear fancy watches, my options dwindling down to nothing; almost nothing. As it hit me what I could give him, my phone buzzed in my pocket. Glancing at the caller ID, I noticed Natasha’s name scrolling across the screen, answering it to hear what she wanted.

“What’s up bestie? Do you need something at the mall?” I asked, still browsing around in case I saw something Tony might want at the last minute.

“You’re still at the mall?! You’re going to be late. Guests are starting to arrive. Sophie, you need to get back here immediately. Get dressed and come to the party,” she barked at me.

“What? I thought I had enough time. Okay, I’m going to head to the exit now. Tell Tony I might be running a little behind,”

“Alright. Oh, just a heads up. He’s invited someone new. I looked him up a few minutes ago. Absolutely dreamy. There’s a possible chance you could fall in love with him,”

“Dreamy huh? I thought you only had eyes for Steve. It’s not possible. Stop trying to set me up with someone. I’ll find the one when I’m ready,” I stated.

“I do, but Sophie, he’s gorgeous. Dark hair, blue eyes, tall. He’s kind of interesting,”

“What’s his name?”

“No, no. I’m not giving you it to you. I want Tony to introduce you two. Hurry and get your ass back to the compound,” she told me, hanging up. Nice try Natasha. There’s no way I’m going to meet my soulmate tonight, I thought. Boy, was I wrong about that?

I got back to the compound and sneaked in the back to get to my room and change into a sleek, strapless teal, satin dress and black booties. I pinned my hair back in a neat bun and left my makeup neutral except for the eyeliner which was teal to match the dress. I made my way downstairs to the lounge and located Tony to give him his gift. I spotted him by a makeshift bar talking to Steve and descended the steps to approach them.

“Tony! I’m sorry I’m late. I couldn’t find an appropriate gift. It occurred to me that the best thing I can give you is one of my famous free hugs,” I greeted him, wrapping him in one of my special embraces which warmed anyone up inside.

“Thank you, Sophie. I adore your hugs. Oh, hey, I want to introduce to someone. He just arrived. Let me go grab him and bring him over here,” Tony told me. He let go and walked over in the direction I had come from and I turned to see who he meant; my heart almost stopped at the sight of the new guest. He wore a long sleeve, burgundy button up shirt tucked in black trousers, black shoes to match. His midnight black hair had been combed back, a little gray at his temples accentuating more of his features, the main focus being his eyes; blue eyes, bright when he smiled. They shone even more when they flickered over at me. He also had a beard that more or less resembled Tony’s. Our gaze locked and held as Tony escorted him over to Steve and me.

“Sophie, this is Doctor Stephen Strange. Strange, Sophie McIntyre. He’s some kind of wizard and she’s our very own firestarter,” Tony introduced us.

“Sorcerer Supreme, actually. Nice to meet you, Sophie,” Strange stated, his hand outstretched.

“Pleasure’s all mine,” I told him, taking it in mine, shaking it. Two things happened; first I noticed the contrast in temperature of our hands. Second, a spark of electricity shot through my hand as our skin touched. We didn’t release the handshake for a few seconds, Steve’s voice breaking the contact.

“Welcome to the compound. I hope you’ll have fun at the party,” he interrupted.

“I’m sure I will,” Strange commented, pulling back first.

“I think I’ll go find Natasha. Excuse me,” I said, walking through the crowd of people to find everyone’s favorite red head. She happened to be right. I fell in love with no other than Doctor Stephen Strange, Sorcerer Supreme.

“Natasha! You should have warned me earlier. I just met Steph- I mean, Strange. Dreamy? That word doesn’t even begin to cover that man,” I told her.

“Uh-oh, someone’s got a new crush. I’m willing to bed you two will be dating in six months. Where is he? Does his picture do him justice?” She stated, showing me a news article, she had found on him.

“Neuro-surgeon? Tony said he’s a wizard,” I stated, viewing his picture. In it he was clean shaven, in a tux, the headline covering a benefit he had attended. He looks good with or without a beard. He even looks good in a tux. I wonder what he’d look like in scrubs or even without any clothes on at all. Damn, I’m in trouble, I thought.

“Sorcerer Supreme. Hello. You must be Natasha Romanoff. Hard to miss the only red head in the room. I’m Stephen Strange, though I’m certain you already know that. Are you girls talking about me?” a deep voice said behind us, causing us to jump.

“All good things, I promise. I have an unfortunate habit of researching new people who come into our life. Sorry. Nice to meet you. I…You know I should probably find Wanda. Excuse me. You two talk. Get to know each other,” Natasha commented, a little flustered, before walking off leaving me with the handsome sorcerer.

“You’re a neuro-surgeon as well? What an impressive skill set,” I commented, breaking the silence.

“Former neuro-surgeon. I got into a really terrible car accident almost two years ago. I severely damaged my hands to the point where I can’t operate anymore. It left some scars as behind. Both mental and physical,” He held up his hands, lines of scars running down to his wrist.

“May I?” I asked, gesturing to his hands, hoping I didn’t invade his personal space or boundaries. He nodded and I took one of his hands in mine. With a light touch, I traced over the scars, his skin cool where nearly no circulation traveled to the area. There was also a slight tremor to them even as I held one in my grasp.

“How did you become Sorcerer Supreme?” I asked. He told me of his training, of his battle with an enemy named Dormammu and of his adventures battling other foes. We moved to a couch to sit down moving from subject to subject. He asked about my powers, I asked for a demonstration of his magic. I talked about life in the compound, about other interests, which I found some he shared with me. We exchanged numbers to keep in future contact if we wanted to. Our conversation flowed very well, cut off when it was time to eat and cut cake.

“Maybe Strange can help us out from time to time, should we need his help,” Tony mentioned, after a few toasts were given and things began to wind down.

“Let me know. I’ll be glad to offer assistance. It was a pleasure to meet all of you. I should return to the Sanctum. Thanks for inviting me. Goodnight, Sophie. I enjoyed our conversation tonight. I hope I get a chance to have even more with you sometime,” Stephen said.

“Goodnight, Stephen. I’m glad I could provide some entertainment for you. You have my number. Send me a text when you feel like hanging out or just talking to someone,” I told him as he smiled, crinkles at his eyes forming and as he walked through a portal to his home. I turned back to see everyone staring at me, heat flushing my face.

“What?”

“You gave him your number to talk. I believe he’s going to want more than a conversation,” Tony stated.

“Don’t be absurd. We’re becoming friends. He’s sweet,” I commented, twirling a strand of hair around one finger.

“Oh, Sophie. You’ve got it bad for him. I suspect he’s got it bad for you too,” Nat whispered in my ear.

“Don’t be ridiculous. There’s no way he’d ever date someone like me,” I stated. Funny how things work out.

Present Day

“Now this looks perfect. The room is all set up and it took almost all day,” I stated, inspecting the spare room to make sure I had it like I wanted it. Stephen and I had taken a few breaks, one to eat lunch and another for dinner; sandwiches, something simple to continue unpacking the boxes. Other breaks were more for the bathroom or water, sitting side by side, sharing a few kisses or subtle touches to get each other worked up.

“You’re officially moved in. How about tonight we settle in and watch a movie? Snuggle some. I’m exhausted from all the unpacking. How about you?” Stephen said.

“Mm-hm. All that teasing and I’d rather curl up in your arms and relax,” I told him through a yawn. I wrapped my arms around his waist, resting my head on his shoulder.

“Maybe we can fool around tomorrow. Celebrate a new step in our relationship,” he commented, walking us toward his bedroom, our bedroom, and switching on the light. He stripped down to his underwear, throwing me one his t-shirts to sleep in. I didn’t want to grab a set of pajamas from the other room, too tired to walk back. We climbed in bed and turned on a movie, cuddling close.

“I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to this,” he stated during one part, glancing down at me.

“What? Cuddling all the time?”

“No. I don’t think I’m going to get used to you living here. Indefinitely. Waking up in the morning and seeing your beautiful face, knowing you’re all mine. I’m excited you’re here Sophie. I love you so much,” he answered.

“I love you too. I’m happy to be here with you. There’s nowhere I’d rather be than here in your arms, in our home,” Stephen kissed me, gentle and long, sliding our bodies under the covers, my head on the pillows, him on top of me. He pulled back, coming back down for more, devouring me. The longer we kissed, the hotter it became, more desire building as we made out. He removed his shirt from my body, followed by my underwear. I pulled down his underwear, Stephen kicking them off when I reached his ankles.

“So much for fooling around tomorrow. We appear to be moving it up a day,” I told him.

“Apparently. Let’s go slow. I want to take my time making love to you,” he said, pressing his lips to mine, his hands tracing small patterns on my breasts, my nipples perking up at his touch; heat and wetness pooled in my center. Soft moans escaped my lips as he continued to touch me, going as slow as possible. We took our time, building up the foreplay, reaching a point where we needed to be connected. Stephen reached over in the nightstand and pulled out a condom, sliding it onto his member. He sheathed himself inside my folds, his thrust nice and slow, building up our climaxes. We touched each other as we made love, brushed over each muscle, each limb; my nails dug into his skin, the muscle there rippling as he thrust into me repeatedly.

Hours crept by, moans, groans, and grunts escaping our lips; we were a sweaty mess by the time of the first climax. Multiple orgasms were achieved that night before we ended up in each other’s arms, sleeping and dreaming about what our future held.

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katedoesfics · 4 years

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Shadows of the Yiga | Chapter 4

Aryll was feeling particularly petty by the end of the day. She really didn’t want to ruin her streak of ignoring her brother, but she supposed that was already ruined that morning when she announced she was going to school. But there was definitely no way she was going to go home and chance seeing him and giving him the chance to argue with her. So, as the day came to an end, and waiting at the last possible moment, she texted Link, stating simply that she was sleeping over Cremaia’s and would not be home until Saturday.

It took a while for Link to text her back, and when he did, she was already at Cremia’s, trying on outfits her friend had picked out for her that were, in her words, ‘club appropriate.’ His response was nothing more than a simple ‘k.’ She didn’t exactly expect anything more from him, but she still felt disappointed that he wasn’t putting in more effort. But then again, neither was she. She closed the message and pushed her thoughts aside. She checked herself out in the mirror, and despite her earlier trepidation to Cremia’s clothing choices, she didn’t hate how she looked. She had never cared much for style before, and never wore anything besides jeans (Link always teased her that dresses were here favorite when she was younger) and plain shirts, steering clear of patterns, bright colors, and lace and frills. This was the first time she had worn a skirt - and a black, very short, leather skirt, at that - and a shirt that actually showed - no, accentuated - her cleavage.

She felt unnecessarily girly. And a little sexy. Very sexy. It was… sort of thrilling, and she found that she didn’t mind it as much as she thought she would. Tonight was about letting go and having fun again. Something she felt she hadn’t done in a while. Cremia was right; she needed to get away. To loosen up. To live her life. And what better way than to break a few little laws and get a little drunk? It seemed like the thing to do to help her forget about her problems. Link certainly did it enough.

Aryll and Anju sat on Cremia’s bed while Cremia worked diligently at her makeup. Her mouth was open in concentration as she perfected her eyeliner, then applied her lipstick, finishing it with a smack of her lips. She tussled her hair, checking herself in the mirror before giving herself a nod of approval.

“Plenty of makeup to go around,” she said, turning to them.

“Where are you taking us?” Anju asked wearily.

Aryll took the offer of the makeup wordlessly, applying the eyeliner to her eyes in thick strokes.

Cremia grinned. “Well, first, I thought we’d pregame here for a couple hours. No sense going out this early.” She tapped on her phone as she spoke, scrolling through various apps and web pages. “There’s a few good clubs in the city we can hit. And if you’re really feeling adventurous, we can take a drive and see where the night takes us.”

“Oh, a road trip!” Anju said. “We should totally do a road trip this summer!”

“Now we’re talking,” Aryll said. She smacked her lips together and gave herself a flirty look in the mirror. “Hit the coast and never come back.”

“Maybe, like, after graduation,” Anju said.

Aryll frowned. “You mean we can’t just drop out?”

“I also invited a few other people out with us,” Cremia said, interrupting them. “They’re gonna meet us at the first club.”

Anju frowned. “I thought this was girl’s night.”

“Totally,” Cremia said. “But, my goal is to get Aryll’s pants off.” She grinned and wiggled her eyebrows. “I invited Mido.”

Aryll blushed. “Shut up,” she hissed. “Why would you do that?”

“Because he’s soooo dreamy!” Cremia teased. “He’s strong. And sexy. But not as sexy as some people.”

Anju threw a pillow at Cremia.

“Come on, Ary,” Cremia whined. “You had the biggest crush on him.”

“And then you made out with him,” Aryll reminded her.

“Oh, yeah,” Cremia said. “But I’m done with him. You can have him now.”

“Gee, thanks,” she muttered.

“He’s bringing his friends, too,” she assured her. “There will be plenty to pick from.”

“I was hoping to just get shit faced,” Aryll said.

“Drink enough and you might get lucky, too.” Cremia moved to her closet, pulling open the doors and digging through. When she emerged, she had two bottles of liquor in her hand. “Drink up, ladies!”

They started off with shots, and Cremia laughed as they choked and coughed. “Amatures,” she said as she poured three more shots.

“I can’t do that again,” Aryll said, shaking her head.

But Cremia brought the shot glass to her lips. “Drink! Drink! Drink!”

Aryll closed her eyes and downed the second shot. “Oh my Goddesses,” she groaned. “What is the appeal?!”

After a third round of shots, Cremia dug through her closet once more, pulling out a case of wine spritzers. “These will be more your style,” she said, then added, “Pussys.”

They were much more tolerable than whatever hell fire was contained in the two bottles Cremia first brought out. They went down easily, and they drank them casually over the next couple of hours as they chatted and took selfies with one another. By the time night had crept in, the case was empty, and they were giggling together on the bed.

Cremia got to her feet. “Ah’right,” she said. “We’ve gotta club to rock.”

“How do you ‘spect us to even get in?” Anju said. “We’re minors.”

“Never fear, Cremia is here!” She thrust a fist in the air, then fished through her purse, tossing two ID cards at them. “I hook my girls up!”

“Where…” Aryll started, then shook her head. She didn’t even want to know.

“Nice photoshop job,” Anju said, admiring her older looking appearance on her card. “Glad to see that older me is still hot.”

Cremia rolled her eyes. “It’s not like I made you forty, jeez.” She grabbed a set of keys off her dresser, threw her purse over her shoulder, and left her bedroom, calling after her friends.

“Wait a sec,” Anju said as they followed suit. “Should you really be driving?”

“We’re literally going down the street,” Cremia said. She lead the way through the house and outside where her mother’s car waited. “We’ll be fine.” The keys were left for ‘an emergency,’ as her mother had said. “Only if the house is on fire or the city has become over run with aliens, or if you are dying.” It wasn’t the first time her parents left her alone for the weekend, but it was the first time she could (legally) drive, and she wasn’t about to waste a perfectly good opportunity to hit the town.

The three girls slid into the car. Cremia navigated them the short drive down the street, and then a few blocks over, before parking in a lot outside of a club. A bouncer stood at the door, checking IDs of those who entered.

“Follow my lead,” Cremia said as they stepped out of the car. “Act like you’ve done this before. Don’t be idiots, k?” They hurried across the street between stopped vehicles and navigated to the back of the line, stopping only when Cremia was pulled quite literally into the crowd.

“Hey!” Mido called to them, waving them over. Cremia stood between him and his friends, giggling as she moved between them, closer than necessary.

“Hey,” Aryll said sheepishly. Her head was already swimming, and she had started to feel nauseous, but she was determined to push through the night. There was no way she was backing out now. And for the first time in ever, Mido had spoken to her, and her feelings for him immediately ignited once more. Goddess, he was hot.

Mido smiled. “Started without us?” he said. He took her wrist and pulled her into the line with them.

“It’s free to raid my mom’s booze,” Cremia said.

“Don’t worry,” Mido said. “We’ll keep the drinks coming.” He turned his attention back to Aryll. “I was really surprised when Cremia said you were coming out.”

Aryll brushed her hair behind her ear and blushed. “Huh? Wha? Why?”

Mido shrugged. “Didn’t really think you were the type.”

“Guess there’s a lot you don’t know about me,” she said with a flirty smile.

Mido’s grin widened. “Yeah?”

“Watch it, man,” the guy beside him said, elbowing him. “You know who her brother is, right?”

Mido laughed. “The dumbass with a sword? I’m not worried.”

A couple of the guys oohed teasingly, and Aryll frowned.

“Jealous, Mido?” Cremia teased.

Mido grinned and crossed his arms. “If I’m jealous of anything, it’s that he’s fucking the queen.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Anju offered. “He’s being cocky. He’s got jock brain.”

The guys laughed. “Football guys are idiots,” one said to Mido.

Mido rolled his eyes and grinned. “We’ll see who’s the idiot when I get a full boat into college.”

Aryll shrugged. “Nah, he’s right,” she said. “Link is a dumbass.”

They had made it to the front of the line, and Mido held his arm out, allowing the girls to enter first. They flashed their IDs at the bouncer, who glanced at them quickly before ushering them into the club, already checking the group behind them.

From outside, they knew the music was loud, but Aryll still wasn’t quite prepared for how loud it actually was once they made their way inside, then down the stairs. Except for the disorienting flashing lights, it was dark and foggy. Dark masses danced and grinded on one another on the dance floor, laughing and posing for pictures. Cremia gripped their wrists as she lead them through the room as if she had done it a hundred times. The guys had momentarily disappeared, but Aryll was more focused on the bodies that pressed up against her as they wandered the club.

After a moment, Cremia seemed satisfied with their location, and she pulled at Aryll’s wrist, dancing seductively against her.

“Come on,” she shouted over the music. “Get into it. Give ‘em something to watch.”

Aryll shrugged. If you can’t beat them, join them. She took Cremia’s hand and followed her moves, dancing as best as her drunken mind would allow her. Within a few minutes, Mido and his friends had found them, drinks in hand. Mido offered Aryll one of the glasses in his hand, and she took it eagerly, smiling a wordless thanks to him. She didn’t question what it was, fearing it would be like the shots Cremia gave them, and instead held her breath and drank.

It didn’t taste as bad as she expected, though she still didn’t know what the hell it was. She finished it quickly, regardless, and set her empty glass on one of the nearby tables as Mido pulled her toward him. He put his hands on her waist, and they moved down slowly to cup her ass. He leaned in, pulling her closer and whispered in her ear.

“Show me all the things I don’t know about you,” he said flirtatiously.

Aryll smiled and pressed closer to him, grinding up against him as she had seen the other women do. She turned her back to him, then continued to grind against him. She could distinctly feel him against her, in more ways than one, but otherwise took no notice as she lost herself in the music.

Throughout the night, they continued to dance and drink. Just as they promised, the drinks kept coming from various sources. Each one tasted a little different, but after a while, she didn’t even notice that. But it didn’t take long before she started to feel more and more sick to her stomach. She was stumbling over herself, and though Mido tried to catch her at every chance he could, he was no better off. At some point in the night, she remembered his lips against hers, then moving sloppily to her neck. His hands moved over her body, caressing her thigh and cupping her breasts. She had tried to pull away, but only stumbled against him more, sending him the opposite message she had intended.

Soon, her stomach couldn’t handle it any longer, and she found herself vomiting violently into a trash can. Cremia took her hand and lead her into a bathroom where she puked first into a sink, then into a toilet. Cremia held her hair back, but the sounds made her sick, too, and she gagged and choked.

Aryll could not hold her head up any longer. She felt the world spinning much too fast, and her head hit the floor. She hardly noticed the pain, but did feel the cool tiles against her face, and it felt refreshing against her hot skin. And that was the last thing she remembered.

“Aryll!” Cremai shouted to her. “Wake up, idiot!” She whined loudly and did her best to pull her friend across the bathroom, but she was much too drunk to even keep herself up right. She dropped to her knees and slapped her across the face, but Aryll did not budge. After trying a few more times, Cremia started to panic. She searched the bathroom desperately, for what she didn’t know, before running as best as she could back into the club, searching for her friends.

Anju and Mido and his friends were leaning against the bar, talking and laughing when she stumbled up to them.

“Aryll’s out,” Cremia said, panting. She pulled Mido through the crowd and into the bathroom, showing him her passed out friend. Mido picked her up as carefully as he could, then followed Cremia outside and to her car as Anju jogged to catch up with them.

“Maybe you should call an ambulance,” Mido said after securing Aryll in the backseat.

“No,” Cremia said. “Serious? We’ll be so fucked!”

“I dunno,” he said wearily. “She doesn’t look good.”

“Shell be fine,” Cremia insisted. “I’ll jest take ‘er home and shell sleep it off.” She slid into the car behind the wheel, starting the ignition as Anju got in beside her.

“He’s right,” Anju said. “We should go to a hospital.”

“Will still be fucked!” Cremia said. She squinted her eyes as she concentrated on driving. “It’s easier to get home.”

“Cremia,” Anju said fiercely. “She’s not okay! Hospital!”

Cremia groaned. “Fine!”

Anju turned to the backseat, pushing Aryll in her best attempt to wake her, but she did not move or utter a sound. Her lips twisted in concern, and she moved her fingers under Aryll’s nose, then to check her pulse on her neck, and she panicked.

“She’s gonna die!”

“She’s not gonna die,” Cremia barked. “Oh my Goddess!”

“Cremia, this isn’t good,” Anju sobbed. She shook her head and buried her face in her hands. “We’re so fucked. Hurry!”

“Okay!” Cremia stepped harder on the gas, blowing through a stop light and causing the cars that tried to get through to slam on their breaks and ski across the road. Their horns blared angrily as they sped onward down the center of the road, no longer keeping to their own lane. Cremia navigated as best as she could between vehicles, ignoring the side view mirror as it clipped another vehicle and flew through the air, landing on the car behind them and cracking the windshield. She didn’t slow as the road narrowed, moving away from the heart of the city.

It was darker where they were, and she was sure she knew the way to the hospital, but it seemed then that they were completely lost. Still, she sped through the dark streets, cresting over the hills and careening dangerously around the corners. The headlights didn’t seem bright enough for the dark hour, and an early spring fog had settled in, making visibility more difficult. Still, she sped on, taking another corner much too fast and finally spinning out of control. They screamed as the car spun across the road and finally slammed into a tree, and their world fell darker than the night.

#soty #soty4 #chapter 4 #shadows of the yiga #loz #botw #fic #fanfic #legend of zelda #breath of the wild

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8picklesinatrenchcoat · 5 years

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HERS

You’ve felt unstable for a couple weeks now. But when your friend Mark asks you to bring your demonic character to his universe, you cannot say no.

Warnings: demonic possession, mental health issues, mental instability, depression, self-harm, blood, mental breakdown

You can find it on AO3, too.

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You’ve finally made it. You were going to film a video with your favorite Youtuber, Markiplier! Years of dedication, time, tears payed off, as you were one of the most promising creators on the platform, growing strong every day.

The point where you two got good friends and you were happily welcomed in his little clique was long surpassed. You had moved to LA, worked day and night, got a nice apartment in the center of the city, you were finally living your dream. Years of constantly changing workplaces, unemployment, fear of not being able to pay your bills were over after all.

The video was going to be in another big production of his, another multiple choice like “A date with Markiplier” and “A heist with Markiplier”. And you were going to be a surprise guest in the segment, where Darkiplier would come to life yet again. Your own original demonic character apparently was too good to pass up for him. But little did he know, how real SHE was. He had a faint idea, why you were in therapy, but he didn’t know the whole ugly truth.

The day came. You got your own room to get ready, put on your costume and makeup. The outfit you had made of many scraps of dark materials and fake-blooded bandages, the makeup consisted of black paint, ash, long pointed nails, bloodshed sclera lenses and very much fake blood. The SFX segment wasn’t going to be as hard as it used to be, as you got better every time you put the fake cuts and wounds on your skin. The sight in the mirror as you got ready was a thing you were probably never going to get used to. Caved in cheeks, dark circles under your eyes, little cuts on your face, that indicated you’ve scratched yourself, collarbones that were sticking out. It was a nightmare come true.

You chuckled at the thought, ruffled your hair a little more and was about to leave the room, as you realized the most important accessory was missing. The ID wristband, from the time you were in a mental hospital. You’ve kept it for sentimental reasons, still used to wear it after you left the facility to remind you of the lessons you had learned there. When you released your first video with your demon in it, you were still wearing it by accident. It became such a trademark for the character, that it always had to be there.

You put on the band and was finally able to go on set. Mark was being powdered one last time, everyone else around him was getting ready for the shoot. You’ve never been to such a big set, yet in such a big production. It was true, what they said, shooting consisted 80% of waiting.

The scenery was a sight to behold. The biggest greenscreen you had ever seen stretched out in front of you. The scene would take place in the ominous void, home to Dark and now, your demon, too. Mark nodded acknowledging at your appearance and you talked for a little while about this and that.

Ethan announced, that in three minutes the shooting would begin. You popped in your headphones and started the song, that always helped you bring out HER. Napoleon XIV played the tambourine, as you slowly let HER take over your body. Your shoulders dropped, your head slowly began to flinch, and the classic mad grin spread over your face, eyes wide, teeth bare. You threw your phone with the headphones to the side, walked towards Dark, turned to the already running camera and said in HER cracked voice: “Welcome to the void! How was the fall?”

_____________________________

The lights turned off, the cameras stopped running, everyone started to shuffle and hustle. Slowly you were stopping the jerks and twitches, becoming more and more YOU again. Mark talked to Amy, who was taking off his eyeliner, Catherine and Tyler closing the programs on their Laptops, Ethan starting to pack the lights, the rest of the crew being all over the place, wrapping up the set. You walked back to your room, still panting a little bit. Every time it drained you, letting HER out, fighting HER back into her cage, out of your mind, out of your body.

You closed the door, exhaling sharply. You let yourself flop onto the sofa, getting more and more exhausted. SHE was still there, probing your defenses. You couldn’t let her win, ever again! SHE was too dangerous to be let off the leash! Last time you let her slip beside your walls, she wreaked complete havoc on your friends and your flat.

“Deep breaths, you are the driver, she is just a passenger in your car. You can put her back into the trunk.”, you talked calmly to yourself. You stood up, slowly walking to the big mirror while trying to calm down. “You got this, you’ve done this before, you can do this again.”. The piercing laugh you heard proofed you otherwise. “You really think, that it is that easy? Don’t you know, that I KNOW that you love the feeling of being able to let go? And just BE? Just let me out, everything will be so much lighter. Aren’t you tired of fighting? Trying to contain me? Just. Let. Go.”

“No.”, you managed to squeeze out. You grabbed the edge of the dressing table, trying to stable yourself, as your head started spinning, the world fading into rivers of blood, screams in the distance, maniac laughter inside your mind. A piercing sound, like nails on a blackboard, stuck in your ears for almost a minute. You let go of the table, trying to cover your ears, to stop the cacophony inside your head. Stumbling over your own legs, you fall hard onto your side, then pulling your knees to your chest into a fetal position.

“Just let go. You’ve done it before. You know, what salvation it can be. The truth, it holds. I am a part of you, after all.”, SHE said. HER head starting to jerk again, stronger, HER nails clawing at HER skin, pulling HER hair. “LET ME OUT!”, she suddenly roared.

All of a sudden the door slammed open and Mark storming in. “(Y/N)!”, he yelled, rushing to where YOU laid. SHE jumped up onto all fours. “Back off, petty boy.”, SHE snarled at him, while slowly crawling backwards.

“What have you done?”, he shouted at HER. He stood there, legs wide, posture lowered. He was still in costume, although a bit disheveled.

“What do you mean? You already miss our little (Y/N)?”, she sneered at him.

“Come back, you hear me? You are still in there, I know it! Yes, she is a part of you, but she is NOT YOU! You are in control, as much as she is a part of you, you are a part of her! I know, it has been hard, I know that better than you think! But please, come back! Don’t let her consume you!”

Laughter sounded in the air, as SHE rose. Maybe SHE was not very tall, but it still was an intimidating sight. Blood, real blood steaming out of her mouth because she had bit HER lip, the costume, the makeup, it was all very real. Too real. Mark backed off, remaining in the defensive posture.

“Oh, she is still there. She can hear you. But she will never speak to you. Ever again! Existence is pain, and her little frail soul had to endure so much, that she is done with this world. The alternative would be suicide, but I like it here! There is a certain amount of… Chaos in your order, and I very much enjoy that.”

She stepped forward, head twitching, fingers contorting into claws. “You’ll never see her again, I will make sure of it.” SHE leaped forward, trying to startle him and run out the door, but he was quicker than she had thought. He grabbed her by the waist and hoisted her back into the room using her momentum against her. They stumbled and fell, she onto him. Next he knew he was holding her wrists while she tried clawing at his eyes, laughing fanatically. Finally, he managed to flip them over and pin her wrists above her head.

“(Y/N)! Please! You need to come back! I’m begging you! You need to snap out of it! You always say to go though just another day, so please, come back. For at least just another day.”

HER smile slowly faded. It transferred into pure rage, she roared at the top of her lungs. But then, silence. A deep sadness took over YOUR features, tears rising in your eyes. Mark let go of YOUR wrists and sat up next to you, heavily breathing. You just turned to your side and let the tears flow freely.

“Is it okay, if I hug you?”, he asked after a couple minutes. You could just nod, and he slowly helped you sit up and embraced you. Hard.

You sat like that for another 10 minutes or so, just weeping your eyes out, letting go of all the tension, all the emotions that were too much. Then you just were. You couldn’t grasp a clear thought, trying to take a breather and understand what just had happened. As you slowly began to rock back and forth, Mark picked you up and seated you both on the sofa, softly cuddling you until you dozed off from the exhaustion.

__________

Ethan gently knocked on the door about an hour later and came in. You were wrapped up in a blanket, sleeping on the sofa, Mark sitting in the chair in front of the dressing table, watching you. “Will she be okay?”, Ethan asked.

“I sure hope so. Yeah, she will. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but eventually, she will. And we will help her with that. Just one day after another.”

#markiplier #depression #depressed #mentally ill #mentally unstable #mental health #chaos #fanfic #fanfiction #Hers #Angst #Markiplier Angst

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