#if i had left it one more day i would have been ~admitted~ to the hospital

[undercoverpena]

1. tie the knot

javier peña x f!reader* | chapter one of let us pretend

summary: peña has been back in Texas for all of five minutes, thinking he wants a simple life. but, when steve offers him the chance to gather information on a potential new player, he jumps at the chance. the only problem is, to do so, he'll need to go undercover with a female agent—and pretend to be her husband.

wordcount: 4.6k chapter themes: fake dating/relationship/marriage, forced proximity / sharing one bed, colleagues to lovers, no use of Y/N, *female agent has a nickname (sunny) for use undercover. an: this week i am full of surprises. welcome to the world of let us pretend. this chapter might not feel different from htcu, but it is.

All he has to do is pretend. Put on an act.

It’s simple on paper. Easy. A thing he’s already a master in, something he has never found particularly difficult or hard: pretending.

Javi, after all, had had always been pretty good at concealing, at masking—

“Y’need to pretend to be married.”

Faking being a husband was a new one.

Having lived with far too many emotions for so long, it’s not hard for him to fake nonchalance.

Colombia had been his school. The place where he collected his degree—days of pretending he was okay. Hiding the fact he couldn’t sleep the horrors away, that he wasn’t falling apart at the seams. That stress wasn’t making him chain smoke and the pressure wasn’t making him sink his cock into women he couldn’t save.

He picked up his doctorate when he returned home. When ranch life had felt so fucking dull it made him want to pick the smoking habit back up, just for something to do. When he saw boats that made his insides twist, but found he had to wear a smile. Hiding, as expertly as he could, so he didn’t bristle each time someone called him a hero—when all he wanted was a drink, a fuck or a newspaper.

Mostly, Javi had become a master in squirrelling away the fact he saw every minute of the hours at night, feeling nothing short of relief when his alarm chimed so he could get out of his homemade prison.

Bluffing had always been a skill of his. But, this, this was new to him. His bluffing had never required him to wear something shiny on his left hand and—

“And, Jav. Try not to fuck her.”

He’s not surprised that Steve heads up a department in Miami—or that he’s happy and content.

From the moment the two of them reunited, he took in the glow on his old partner’s skin (the one he strongly suspects isn’t just from the sun) and listened as he heard short (in Murphy’s opinion) stories about his daughter growing older.

Javi couldn’t relate—not that he’ll admit it. Just another thing he disguises. Smothers his face in what he assumes is what happiness looks like, wears it like an accessory, something akin to wearing a jacket, rather than actually feeling it.

Picking up a ring, rotating it between his thumb and finger, he snorts. “Wouldn’t be very husband-like of me, if I didn’t, would it?”

He’s nudged. An intentional elbow to the side sparks a grin as he places the ring back into its velvety spot.

Because none of them look right. None seem right—even for a fake thing.

“Fake husband. And don’t fuck this up.”

“I’m hearing a lot of don’ts and not a lot of do’s, Murphy. What the fuck is it you want me to do?”

He’s already been told, informed. Briefed.

Tricked in fact. Requested down here for an opinion, but when his worn-in soles landed in the office of his former colleague, it unravelled into something so much more.

Handed a file—one he knows everyone expects he won’t read—and given a rundown of what the operation is supposed to look like. But Javi knows better. Had known it too. Even suspects, Murphy does too.

One thing Colombia has taught him is that plans don’t mean shit, not when you’re up against an ever-evolving problem.

You don't just want me here for a consult, do you, Murph? Was hopin’ you were bored in Texas.

He suspects that’s why his Pop had given him an arched brow, an expression that was accompanied by pinched lips when he’d first mentioned it. Even his assurance that it’ll be a few days—just helping Steve out was met with a look Javi hadn’t banked on. Realising as he stood admiring wedding rings that his Pop had figured it out long before him.

At least now he understands why he got the Chucho-treatment—not quite quiet, but not quite the same treatment from him that he did the day before.

Instead, that kind of treatment that pierced itself into him, attempted to bury itself inside of him and made guilt flood through him like a poison.

Even if once before he would struggle with it, found himself desperate to apologise—make it up to his Pops—he didn’t this time. Because Javi already struggled. Already grown tired of itching for something.

So, he said nothing. Because he knows Murphy wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t need him.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Murphy closes his eyes. The same noticeable twitch in his fingers and chewing inside his cheek that Javier can relate to: the sign of a recent quitter, and one attempting to use gum as a replacement.

Needing too.

“Where is she, anyway?” he asks, shifting the conversation, suppressing a yawn.

Before he’d even got on the plane out here, he’d been tired. Already beginning to fray at the edges, sleep had already become an even more distant friend.

All of it had been made worse by the worried look on Pop’s face when he dropped him at departures. It thickened, slathered itself on his shoulders even more so when he calls him from Murphy’s office to tell him it’ll be three months.

“You managed longer than I thought, Javi.” “Pop…”

Even though he had known it wouldn't matter, he had still tried to explain it all over again. From the top. All softly, with patience—the phone receiver leaving an indent on his cheek as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Reminding his Pop that this time he was doing his friend a favour, that it was a one-time thing—a few months, at most.

It didn’t shift the tone—didn’t stop Javi from imagining the disappointed lines bleeding into worried ones, mixing with the ones caused by age. It didn't lessen the tightness over the phone, simmering in the miles of air, because they were both at a standstill in the centre of a formerly (albeit temporary) happy situation.

Sighing, Murphy drops his hand, pulling him back from his thoughts. “She’ll be here, alright.”

Javi snorts, swallowing.

Glancing back over another table, seeing other things, other accessories. Things that’ll help him blend, help the two of you blend. You and him, him and you—a person he knows the name of and nothing else.

Steve had shared that you were good, brilliant, the only one he’d trust. That you knew the work so far better than anyone.

He’d been about to begin unpicking those earlier statements when the door opened, blouse and black tailored trousers walking towards him.

It isn’t anything cliché.

Time doesn’t stop, the room doesn't silence, but something happens. Something shifts, changes—alters. Because instantly, Javi realises you’re pretty. A thought which confuses him, especially when it dawns on him that usually, it’s a woman's figure he notices and admires first, but he finds that it's your eyes that he lingers on.

And fuck do they cut into him.

Practically reach inside of him, before they go through him, digging into flesh and fucking bone.

Then, all at once, ceasefire. A chance to strengthen his façade as you turn to greet Murphy, a handshake, a sea of pleasantries. Enough chance to shove it down, whatever attempted to rise in him.

But, he swears he can still see them behind his lids. Something which makes his jaw tighten, teeth grind—

“You must be my husband,” you say, smirk sliding up into your cheek.

Your body suddenly turns to him, hand sticking out towards him, adding your name to the statement as though stamping it into the air and his body goes clammy, grows warm and makes him suddenly desperate for water, coffee or even whiskey.

Slipping his hand into yours, he’s not surprised to find that it’s soft, the right kind of warm. He’d suspected about as much from just appearances alone.

“Agent Murphy has told me a lot about you, Mr Peña.”

Running his tongue over the front of his teeth, he eyes you. “Think my wife should call me, Javi.”

Javi learns, rather quickly, that you have a nice voice.

It doesn’t grate, doesn’t annoy him—it’s informative, but there’s something else there, a playful edge, a little thing within you that hasn’t been crushed.

He remembers when he’d been as sprightly.

Rubs his forehead with the heel of his palm as he does, fingers desperate to clutch a pen, his jaw tightening as he thinks about how he could roll it in his fingers, hold it like he used to hold a smoke.

Fuck, he wishes he could chew his gum.

A thing which is slowly making him more tense.

Not that you seem to notice, too focused on getting him up to speed on the actual investigation. He’d read much of your notes before today, it was the next part he was more on edge by.

Because, whatever his earlier opinion of you was, he was getting the distinct impression you’d rather set your skin on fire than be fake married. A thing you stop trying to hide, your face displaying your disgust at it each time it is casually mentioned.

It was mandatory—Murphy’s words—for the two of you to get to know one another. A crash course, a 101 in the other. It’s told to you, that the two of you are going to be stationed in your new home for the next few weeks, starting from today. But, because they’re merciful—

“Wanted to make sure you had time to get to know one another. So, take the day—work can begin another day.”

“How nice of you, Murph,” he responds, words dipped in sarcasm. Briefly catching sight of you smirking as you study something on the table.

Javi had already imagined that—since it was recon, and more surveillance than anything else—for the most part, everything could remain the same. He learnt he was right moments later when it was confirmed his name would remain very much his own, and you were handed his surname like a gift you’d rather burn than accept.

It was you who had to surrender more.

“Y’need a new first name.”

If you were surprised, you didn’t show it. A sea of reasons given, the main one being if anyone asked around with a photo and your name, it would be easier to put two and two together. You lived here, for one.

You keep your eyes down, glancing over the table of possessions you’re allowed to borrow, to play dress up with. Fingers brushing over a watch (silver, a white face)—something haunting in your eye you’re quick to blink away when you meet Murphy’s stare.

Folding his arms, Steve sighs. “Jus’ something you’ll answer to. That can be used in public.”

Javi watches you smirk, something secretive, a hidden joke simmering between the two of you—leaving him very much out in the cold of it.

After a beat, you lick your lips.

“Sunny,” you reply, lifting your eyes, digging each syllable of the name you’re going to use into him.

“Let me guess you’re someone’s ray of sunshine?”

He doesn’t mean for it to fall out laced in bitterness, but it does all the same. His mouth tilted into a smirk, your eyes hardening as you placed down a pair of earrings you’d picked up.

“Think it’s more because of my sunny disposition.” He snorts, watching you move around the table. “It’s a family nickname—I’ve… I’ve always been called it, so, I’ll answer to it.”

Swallowing, Javi lets his eyes wander to the wall of the room.

“Alright, you two. You need to sell it, y’hear me?”

“Then we need money.” It’s short, stern, the way you deliver it, head tilted and face unreadable. “We’ll be sniffed out immediately without it. These people deal in money, not handsome faces.”

"So, you think I'm handsome?"

The roll of your eyes doesn't dispute it, not as you direct your attention back to Murphy.

Who, until now, Javi hadn't realised (with his hands on his hips) how big boss Murphy looked as he whispered fine, or how much it rather annoyed him. How it would be quite easy to give him a shove. More so when he’s handed a new phone, a set of documents, credit cards and given more instructions he wishes he could shove down his throat.

He almost gets close enough to do both when briefing ends and he’s handed the keys to the hotel suite they’d be living in—their story simple, easy:

“We have a fake house for you both being made ready as a cover story, but for now you’re both in the hotel. Prime location. Beach views, and very much in reach to the top places the targets visit.”

And, Murphy hadn’t been lying.

It did have good views, the suite was even nice—really nice.

Almost too nice for a little surveillance, a little fake marriage and a drug bust. But, he didn’t complain, barely said a thing in the ride over, or when you wheeled your own case. He even remained silent when you refused to look at him in the elevator or on the walk to the room, and even when the two of you entered.

In fact, the first words he said were: “You gotta try and look at me like you don’t wanna peel my skin off. You know, if you want this to work.”

He expects it; braces for it, the tongue lashing, an icy stare. Picturing you as the kind of woman who is already to sharpen your tools and pierce him with them when he blinks. But, you don’t.

If anything, Javi watches in slow motion as your shoulders sink, your cogs turning before your expression softens.

“You’re right—I’m… sorry.”

Biting the inside of his cheek, he nods. “There’s one bed.”

“Well. We can sleep in the same bed, Peña. We’re adults. However, for your sake, I’m going to put a pillow between us.” Your eyes sweep over him, cold, drowning him in a chill. “Two actually.”

“You a cuddler, or something?”

Smiling, you sigh. “No. The pillow is so that if you roll over all sleepy and desperate for some affection, I won’t have to cut you. Because if you touch me, that is what will happen.”

“How are we meant to sell we’re in love if I can’t touch you?”

“Oh, out there, you can touch me. In here, no.”

His snort rumbles from his chest. Tugged up, wrenched from some cobweb-filled depth, as you smile. Nothing big, nothing life-changing, but a start—the beginning of a level-playing field.

“What kind of touching, cariño?”

Jaw tightening, you smirk—but it’s cold.

He suspects you’re used to charm. Easily able to disable it, switch it off, unfazed by his gaze or the edge of his words. If anything, you seem really fucking bored of it—something he’s not sure if he admires or despises.

“Nothing like you used to pay for, Peña.”

Before he’s even recovered, he learns that you take things seriously.

Your bag opens, pulling out a notebook—upside down cursive etched over a page, your eyes scanning over it, before you ask if he’s ready. He’s barely able to ask for what, when you begin firing things at him.

Favourite food. Comfort film. Where did we meet? What song do you sing in the car when I’m not around? Are you allergic to anything?

The list goes on, and on. The more things continue to run out of your mouth, the more he begins to admire you—to settle into some comfort that you want to do this properly. That you’re going to take it seriously too, something he wants.

Needing it to matter.

Needing to have something work out easily, not have it all end for nothing.

The only time you pause is for a dinner—room service, his treat and his choice. A way of providing proof that he’d been listening, paying attention—somehow wanting to prove something to you, even if he’d known you for only half a day.

“So, how did Murphy get you on this?”

He studies the way you cross your leg over the other, the base of your heel tapping against the carpet—all very much guarded, on edge.

“You can tell it’s my first, can’t you?”

Javi smiles, making it softer purposefully. “A little.”

“He said you were good,” you sigh, placing your napkin down. “I assume I was chosen because it was easy. Y’know, than someone with… higher priorities. Plus, I already know the case. Guess it just made sense to send me.”

Nodding, he watches as you avoid his sight, focusing instead on the swirls in the carpet. Something ticking in your pretty little head, it forcing your nostrils to flare, for your jaw to tighten—and he’s watching it happen, practically feeling the air around you begin to vibrate from it all.

“M’not gonna let anything happen to you, Sunny. You know that right?”

That does it. Further digs in the hatred you’re feeling tenfold because the use of your new name makes you flinch. And he knows, like he had suspected earlier that it means more than just a name. Especially from the look on your face.

At first, your expression is soft, almost mask-less—no walls, no defence. Then, like magic, it shifts. It drapes down, rebuilds, and suddenly there within seconds, the same expression he’s been working with since introduction.

“I have heard how you take care of the women who work with you.”

Picking up your drink, and stirring the straw, you let your eyes meet his. The small wooden table suddenly even smaller—the large suite, suddenly constricting in a way he hadn’t expected so far.

“S’not what I meant.”

“I know.” It’s curt, your reply. Clearing your throat, you snort, “You are handsome. I can see why you did so well. And, I might not need to say this, but I need you to know I like my job, and I don’t require that kind of care.”

Rubbing his jaw, he sighs. “That so?”

“I have something that can help with that. It doesn’t talk. It doesn’t need to remind it that it’s ‘so big’, and it doesn’t need me to call it baby. It just hums—politely—and makes my thighs shake. I just need you to be with me in this.”

He snorts, draining the rest of his glass. The ice clangs just before he places it back down on the table. “You bring it with you, your something?”

Licking your lips, your mouth slides into your cheek. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Steve had told you his credentials—how he worked, how smart he was. How easily he was able to decipher a read on someone.

He did also mention much of Peña’s backstory—including his rich history with the opposite sex. A thing you hadn’t wanted to let escape out coated in catty and wrapped in bitchy. And yet, it had all the same.

You did want to get on with him, you admired him after all. Hearing the truths from Steve made the things that swirled like gossip even more impressive.

But, in all of the briefings you’ve had before agreeing to this, your boss had failed to mention that it wasn’t just the man’s tongue that got women to confess all their secrets, but his ridiculously handsome face too.

The one that keeps turning towards you—eyes concentrated in on you as though you’re the most interesting thing he’s ever had the chance to listen to.

But, it wasn’t just that. It’s that he’s quick-witted, observant, and it most definitely doesn’t help that he’s all broad shoulders and brown eyed. That, in part, you thought you could handle.

Then, he’d flirted.

On any other day, in any other place, you’re sure you’d have melted. Likely leant forward, elbow on your knee, tracing your bottom lip with your finger just to make his eyes drop to your mouth.

But, this isn’t any other day—it’s work, a job, one that requires him (in part) to be a flirt.

Clearing your throat, you smear on a smile. “You not tried to date since you’ve been home?”

His face hardens, just slightly.

It pinching, eyes more so than anywhere else—his smile falling, descending to a thin line as he traces his teeth with his tongue. Then, his eyes shift into an entirely different brown, an explosion of shades swirling—flecks of gold and sadness-infused umber.

“No.”

Nodding, you pick at some salad on the side of your plate. “Probably a good job—don’t need any angry people coming for me when I’m curled up on your arm.”

He snorts, but it doesn’t flutter over his face. His hand remains balled up, resting on the arm of the chair—something more there, prodding, needling him. He may be so easily able to read you, but you’re sure he’s about as clear as a warm day himself.

Landing his gaze back on you, you feel it linger, hover—before it begins to slip down from your eyes, landing somewhere at your neck, before the buttons off your shirt. Something warming inside of you, flooding out, spreading across your skin as you try your damnest to level your breathing.

“Got any more questions?”

“Plenty,” you reply, almost catching the y on your teeth before placing a light smirk out over your lips, letting it move across your face.

Gesturing, Peña licks his lips and so you begin with more. Not needing the book now, just working your way through the things which populate, which appear like bubbles he bursts with his answers.

He’s open about some things more than others. The two of you covering family quickly, childhoods even quicker. You both discreetly avoid too many details of Colombia, about the things you’d already heard in chunks from your superior.

Your 101 beginner class in your new husband proving to be easier to understand than your field handbook—although, you supposed the intermediate and expert levels to him would be far harder to crack.

He’s unmarried, not dating—there’s his dad, a sea of distant family and a town full of people whom his father would class as family. You suspect some guilt there, it layered between the conversation on his dad, and the one which followed when you’d asked if the ranch would be okay without him.

“—My Pops has had help for a long time. One of them has been promoted. He… He works there full time now.”

Even if he had tried to say it simply, it was laced in bitterness—not from jealousy, you suspect from the sadness that had poisoned over time. A well stuffed with things which had rotted and gone mouldy over time.

Upon sight of him this morning, you had known you’d need to be clever, smart—find ways to compartmentalise it all. Because, when he traces his nose with his finger, when his eyes widen a little more than normal—coffee-brown all but drowning you—you had known it would be hard otherwise.

Something there, niggling, piercing through.

“Any lovers I need to be aware of?”

Smiling, you slide your feet from your heels, pulling your legs up more, swallowing. “No, you’re good.”

“Any potential risks I need to be aware of—anyone who’ll call into question your new name?”

Your stomach knots, uncomfortably so. A thing balling inside of you, that same fear you’d been plucking at for days—ever since Steve had suggested your name, thrown it out on the conference table with a bunch of greedy eyes seated around it.

“No, I… you have nothing to worry about.”

He looks at you, lets it hover, hold. Something there, trying to disguise itself in the way he narrows his eyes a fraction, in the way his lips pinch together—the way his brain seems to whir like a fan that can be heard even across the table.

When you yawn, he makes a move to tidy up the plates for the tray—batting your hand away. “I’ve got it, cariño.”

“Cariño?”

Your cheeks are warm, more so under his stare. Easily able to smother it the first time, but found it difficult the second. It’s all wide, blooming—it tracing your eyes before it sweeps back to the tray.

“Gotta call my wife something original, special.”

“I’m hardly special, Peña.”

“If I’ve married you, you’re special.”

Clamping your mouth shut, you say nothing.

Something churning, a horribleness that you know stems from the fact this isn’t real. None of it. The niceness, the ring on your finger—the one your finger slides up your palm to brush over, to trace.

The one which didn’t have a home there this morning, but now sits like it’s always supposed to. Your stare on his back as he goes to the door, pushing the metal tray, the jingling of plates and glass sounding out as your heartbeat pounds in your ears, your cheeks burn in embarrassment.

It continues to hammer when your back flattened against the bathroom door—safe amongst marble, mirrors and an array of complimentary products which covered most of the sink.

Only as you begin to undress and change for bed, does it lessen, does your composure return back to you. The mask which you so delicately applied, the one which had taken more words of encouragement in your bathroom mirror this morning than you’d thought.

Because, it isn’t that you thought you couldn’t do this—but rather why would you?

This isn’t your expertise. Not your usual field of knowledge. The last time you’d even been on a date had been at least over a year ago, and the last time you’d lived with a man had been so long ago you were worried you’d wake tomorrow and learn you have habits you weren’t aware of.

Did you kick in your sleep?

Did you grind your teeth?

“Cariño?” Peña calls out, knuckles tapping on the door. “You good in there?”

No, you want to reply. Hands gripping the sink basin, staring at your makeup-less face and the nightie he was about to see you in.

“Yeah,” you call out, washing your hands, and flushing the toilet before unlocking the door, and emerging.

He’s polite enough to not drink you in, even if you're sure he’s craning his neck not to do so.

“Look. Before you crack your neck from not doing so.”

Smirking, he traces his fingers across his chin, before slowly dropping his eyes.

And you feel them.

Warm. Hot. Sliding over your neck, collarbone, down the silk which covers your chest, abdomen and most of your thighs, before he’s running his vision back up.

“Better?”

“Nice legs.”

Narrowing your eyes, you straighten your spine. “Try not to dream about them, and Peña?”

He hums.

“Try to remember you’re not actually married, don’t want you falling for the fantasy we’re putting on. Hate to break your heart.”

Leaning against the doorframe, staring at you, you somehow manage to level your breath. “If it’s you breaking my heart, Sunny. I might just let you.”

Your mouth almost falls open. Almost.

Something you think he's aware of from the way he smiles, from the way he drinks you in before he whispers about getting passed.

Then, you're alone.

Filling your lungs with a breath, staring around the room not sure how you're going to make it a week not cracking, never mind more.

CHAPTER TWO ->

AN: tag list won't be around from chapter two, thank you for letting me tell the story how i always envisioned. your kindness is appreciated.

taglist: @thetriumphantpanda @texassmiller @wordywarriorwrites @iknowisoundcrazy @thundermartini

@secretelephanttattoo @belliezz @picketniffler @thelightsandtheroses @sawymredfox

@toomanytookas @auteurdelabre @grumpygrumperton @noisynightmarepoetry @missladym1981

@maried01 @livswayout @casa-boiardi @msjarvis @perotovar @inept-the-magnificent

@copperhalfcent @morallyinept @inside-the-mind-of-a-wallflower @nabiiturner

@venturawriter @blablablasssss @half-moon16 @nerdieforpedro

#javier peña x f!reader #javier peña x reader #javier peña narcos #javi peña x reader #javi peña x you #javier peña #javier peña x you #narcos x reader #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javi pena x reader #narcos javier x reader #narcos javier #narcos fanfiction #javier pena narcos #javier peña smut #javi peña smut #javier peña x reader smut #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena smut #javier peña fanfiction #jo: let us pretend #jo: htcu #narcos fanfic #narcos fanficion #pedro pascal x reader

[steddieas-shegoes]

i wanna make you love me

for @subeddieweek day three with the prompts brat eddie and wet and choking

rated e | 2,978 words | please check ao3 for tags

Day one:  ao3 | tumblr Day two: ao3 | tumblr

⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕

He’s left on his knees, blindfolded.

There’s no sound in the room, nothing to give away what’s coming next.

Fingers in his hair. Hand around his throat. Lips against his ear.

“You’re helpless like this, aren’t you?”

Eddie whined.

Whining never got him anywhere except in more trouble, and sometimes Eddie really liked being in trouble.

And because Steve was always honest after a scene, he admitted that he loved when Eddie was a brat, loved to see him subtly ignore Steve’s directions and make little noises even when he was supposed to be quiet. Eddie played into it sometimes, but it came naturally for him to ignore orders, even when he was floating away in his head.

The hand around his throat tightened for a moment, barely enough to actually cut off his air, and then disappeared completely.

“I know what you want, but if you can’t be my good boy, you don’t get to have it. You know better,” Steve said from behind him.

Eddie’s hands weren’t tied, they hardly ever were if he was blindfolded. The only time he’d had to safeword was when he’d been tied up in bed and blindfolded with a gag in. He felt too helpless, past the point of enjoying whatever control Steve had and into dangerous territory. But he knew not to move them.

Moving them would mean punishment, and never the kind he actually wanted.

Steve’s fingers tightened in his hair, tugging at his scalp until he had no choice but to let his head fall backwards. He rested it against Steve’s thigh, a smug smile making its way across his face.

“You want me to be your good boy?” Eddie rasped out. “Maybe I don’t feel like being good.”

Steve was quiet for a moment, not even letting out a breath.

“I’m not spanking you.”

Eddie immediately pouted. It’s not that he thought he’d get what he wanted immediately, but that tone was definite, final.

“Not even one time?” Eddie hated not being able to see the look on Steve’s face. “Even if I promise to cry?”

Steve snorted. “I’m sure you’ll be crying soon enough, but it won’t be from my hand on your ass.”

Steve’s leg disappeared from behind him so quickly he nearly fell backwards. He managed to right himself just as Steve’s laugh hit his ears.

“Take away your sight and it’s like you can’t do anything, huh?” Steve teased. “I’ll just wait right here and you let me know when you wanna be good.”

“Hope you’re comfy. Could be a while,” Eddie responded, ignoring the heat on his cheeks at his mild embarrassment. Steve knew exactly what buttons to push and when, but Eddie knew exactly how hard to fight back to get what he wanted.

Steve was quiet. Eddie was quiet.

Everything was still.

Eventually, Eddie sighed. “Are you really gonna try to be more stubborn than me, a brat?”

“You’re barely a brat, Eddie. Just need to learn lessons the hard way, don’t you?” Steve sounded like he was sitting on his bed, but it was hard to know for sure. “I have all night. I’ve got a drink and a comfy bed. I’ll be fine.”

“You know I like being on my knees. I’ll be fine, too.”

Except he wasn’t. Already, all he could think about was how much he wanted to touch Steve, to be touched by Steve. His knees were sore, his arms were sore, his ass was sore from sitting on his feet this long. He was already close to giving in when the sound of Steve’s belt coming off distracted him.

He’d had plenty of thoughts about how that belt could be used before, and wouldn’t really be opposed to any of those options now.

But the belt hit the floor and the bed creaked.

Steve wasn’t using the belt on him. Steve was relaxing in his bed. Probably not even paying any attention to Eddie or his hard and leaking cock.

Fucking rude.

Eddie’s fingers tapped against each other behind his back, maybe a song or maybe just impatience. Probably impatience. His head wasn’t full of anything except irritation at being ignored.

He knew that’s what Steve wanted, for the irritation to win and he would give in to whatever Steve desired. He’d crawl on his hands and knees over to the bed, apologizing for being a brat and begging to be touched, to get his mouth on Steve’s cock, anything.

Eddie would be lying if he didn’t want that, too.

But more than that, he wanted to see what would happen if he didn’t give in for once, if Steve finally got tired of the attitude and did something about it.

Maybe he’d actually, finally fuck him.

Everything they’d done until now had been hands and mouths only, which was amazing and better than anything Eddie could have expected from anyone, let alone Steve.

After a hard day at school, coming back home and knowing that Steve would be over after his shift at Family Video to take care of him or to bring him back to his house to let him get loud would turn his entire day around. It happened often enough that he knew he was becoming somewhat dependent on it. But with nearly two months of this under their belt, Eddie was starting to wonder if maybe he wasn’t the only one with feelings far beyond the trust between friends.

Steve let out a groan.

And then Eddie heard it: the slick noise of him stripping his own cock, probably using the lube from his bedside table. Or his own spit.

God, that made Eddie see red.

It was his job to spit on Steve’s cock, his job to let his hand or mouth be used by Steve so he could get off.

Eddie’s eyes widened as he realized this was Steve’s punishment for him, making him listen to him get off without him.

“Wish that was my hand,” Eddie said with a smirk.

If he played this right, maybe Steve would get desperate enough to give in.

“I bet you do, baby,” Steve replied, breathless, like he was already close to the edge. How long had he been worked up? How had he been so quiet before?

“Or my mouth,” Eddie supplied, feeling a little less confident that Steve would give in.

“Mhm,” Steve said before moaning, his hand speeding up on his cock.

Eddie wanted to watch. He wanted his mouth around him. He wanted Steve’s hands in his hair, pushing him down until he was choking, spit making a mess under them. He wanted to rip this blindfold off and let the image of Steve getting himself off be burned permanently into his brain, used for the nights when Steve was busy shuffling kids around or hanging out with Robin or working a closing shift.

“Can I please watch?” Eddie was desperate, okay? Being a brat came second to seeing Steve’s thick cock leaking precum while he fucked his own hand.

“Oh, I dunno,” Steve’s hand stopped. “I think you should have to listen to me get off since you decided to touch yourself without permission.”

That was how all of this started.

—

Steve had told him not to touch himself last night when he left the trailer, wanted to see if he could go a few days without it and said he had a plan to make it worth his while.

Of course, Eddie, still wrung out from two back-to-back orgasms from Steve’s mouth, had agreed with no argument.

It didn’t occur to him how difficult that would be until he woke up humping his mattress and whimpering Steve’s name.

He’d done okay the first part of the day, despite the rough start, because he’d overslept and had to rush to school. He made it all the way through his band practice with the guys, skipping the song he wrote about Steve so he wouldn’t face any unexplainable challenges. Made it through dinner with Wayne, though he started to feel a bit jittery when he realized it was nearly seven and Steve hadn’t called to let him know he was leaving work yet.

Those jitters got worse when Wayne left for his night shift, now officially a permanent change to his schedule. It was great for having Steve over, but kinda sucked for the nights when he’d be alone.

He paced the floor, tried playing his guitar, tried smoking.

When the phone rang, Eddie rushed to grab it, only to be told by Steve that he was running a bit late and wouldn’t be able to stay long.

Something in Eddie snapped when he hung up.

His hand immediately went to the button on his jeans, popping it open and shoving his hand down the front of his pants.

Nothing except getting off was on his mind.

That’s how Steve found him: pants at his knees while he fisted his own cock while sitting on the couch waiting for him.

At first, he hadn’t said anything, just stared at him until Eddie stopped moving, chest heaving as he tried to find his breath.

“Get in my car.”

Not even a hello, not even a wave.

He didn’t even stay inside to see if Eddie was listening. He left the trailer and got in his car.

Eddie followed. Of course, he did.

The ride to Steve’s house was silent, radio turned off to add to Eddie’s stress.

He was still rock hard in his pants, and the longer he went without any relief, the more painful it got.

When they got to Steve’s house, he got out, not waiting for Eddie as he walked up to the front door and unlocked it. Eddie stumbled out of the car and into the house, feeling just a bit on edge in more ways than one.

“So I ask you not to touch yourself less than 24 hours ago. I even tell you there’s a reward in it for you if you can do it. And what do you do?” Steve’s arms are folded across his chest as he stands at the foot of the stairs.

“Um. Touch myself?”

“You wanna explain?”

Eddie hated that tone. It sounded like every time a teacher found one of his papers lacking despite all his efforts, or when a cop caught him dealing in the woods last year. It was different when it was Steve, but it still annoyed him, put him on edge.

So he responded as he always did.

“I don’t owe you an explanation.”

And now he was suffering.

–

Not actually. Like, he wasn’t in pain. He was probably going to come untouched soon just from the combination of everything happening, and the embarrassment of that would probably be emotionally painful, but he’d been through worse.

It was just hard to know he was missing a good show and probably wouldn’t even get to have Steve’s hands on him because he was impatient.

So maybe the punishment was working.

Eddie felt himself whimper.

“Color?” Steve asked, because he was always paying attention, even when Eddie deserved this treatment. He was always more concerned about Eddie being okay.

Eddie evaluated himself. Mentally, he was okay, other than being frustrated. But physically, his legs were starting to actually hurt to a point beyond the kind he enjoyed. He was losing feeling in his feet and hated the pins and needles that came with feeling coming back.

“Yellow.”

Steve was in front of him within seconds, hand on his head, loosening the blindfold.

The blindfold wasn’t a problem. Maybe he could convince him to put it back once he was sitting somewhere more comfortable.

“What do you need, Eds?” Steve’s voice was soft, tender compared to where it had been all night.

“Maybe a chair? Or the bed. My legs hurt.” Eddie blinked up at him, feeling overwhelmed by seeing Steve’s completely naked body in front of him so suddenly.

“Alright. Come up to the bed,” Steve lifted him under his arms, taking most of his weight when Eddie nearly crumbled back to the floor.

His legs were maybe a bit more numb than he realized.

“Shit, baby, why didn’t you say something sooner?” Steve asked as he half-carried him to his bed. “I’m trying to punish you in a sexy way, not an actual painful way.”

Eddie snorted. “I didn’t realize it was this bad. I was kinda lost in my thoughts.”

“You weren’t in space yet, though.”

“No, just thinking about how I’m an idiot and how good you are at knowing exactly what type of punishment gets to me,” Eddie grimaced as he sat back, flexing his knees and ankles to get feeling back in them.

“Well, you like attention and you like being able to touch me, so taking those two things away will definitely get to you.”

“You’re right, but it hurt my feelings, Stevie,” Eddie smiled at him to let him know it didn’t actually hurt him.

“You need anything else?” Steve asked, massaging his legs to get blood flowing again. “Water? Do you need to stop?”

“No, no. I’m good. Maybe just another minute.”

Steve nodded, lifting his leg and kissing his knee.

Eddie watched, swallowed back the words he wanted to say but knew he couldn’t.

This was all he’d have. Just this friendship, this trust, and the care required for a BDSM relationship.

He could keep being okay with that.

“No blindfold though,” Steve said. “You’re gonna watch me take care of myself.”

“But-”

“Nope.” Steve’s hand circled his own cock, not moving, just making it obvious that he was planning on it. “You know what you can do for me, though?”

“What?” Eddie didn’t like the tone of his voice or the growing smile on his face.

“You could spit on my cock, make sure it’s nice and wet for me to get myself off.”

Eddie groaned. He absolutely hated Steve. Hated that Steve was still pushing him in just the right ways. Hated that he actually loved it, never wanted him to stop.

“And if I don’t?” Eddie dared to ask.

“Then I stop now and drive you home.”

Shit. Eddie knew he wasn’t bluffing.

Eddie leaned over, making sure to keep his hands in his own lap, gathered spit in his mouth, and let it drip down onto Steve’s cock.

Steve moaned as it happened, keeping his eyes locked on Eddie’s as he let it pool against his fingers before sliding his hand up and down his length.

Eddie spit again, letting his gaze drop to the way it glistened on Steve’s cock. Mesmerized, Eddie kept his mouth open, letting whatever spit that gathered fall from his mouth.

“Such a good boy for me. Love it when you’re good.” Steve’s other hand nudged Eddie’s face up, eyes piercing him with a hungry look. “Kinda love it when you’re bad, too.”

If Eddie hadn’t already been rock hard for hours, practically edging himself with his own hand and thoughts, then maybe those words wouldn’t have been enough to make him come.

Steve froze, looking down at Eddie’s still twitching cock, the mess he made across his own stomach and thighs. “Holy shit. C’mere,” Steve’s hands grabbed him, tugging him roughly into his lap and spreading the mess of Eddie across both of them and the sheets.

Steve’s lips were hot against his, bruising, rough, unyielding.

Eddie’d never been kissed like that, not even by Steve.

If he could get hard this second from it, he would.

“That was so fucking hot,” Steve gasped against his lips, barely breaking the kiss to speak.

Eddie whimpered, rutting his ass against Steve’s still slick cock, hoping to add to the mess between them.

Steve’s hand ran up his chest, squeezing a nipple between his fingers as he bucked up, seeking more friction. He didn’t need to say anything for Eddie to know he was close.

His hand inched closer to Eddie’s throat, and for a moment, just one, Eddie panicked.

They’d talked about this. Eddie said he wouldn’t trust anyone but Steve, Steve admitted he wouldn’t feel comfortable doing it for anyone but Eddie, they agreed on what to do if Eddie couldn’t talk and needed to safeword out.

But the moment Steve’s fingers wrapped around his throat, Eddie melted.

Steve barely applied any pressure, just let the weight of his hand rest on his skin, holding him with a silent threat and a strength he never used except when he wanted to throw Eddie around and make him feel good.

“Can’t believe how lucky I am,” Steve said against his jaw, frantically chasing his own orgasm while Eddie was barely holding himself up in his lap. “Get to have you like this. All to myself.”

Steve’s breathy whine gave way to his hand falling from Eddie’s neck.

Warmth hit Eddie’s ass and thighs and he realized the angle of Steve’s cock was almost perfect to slide inside him, if he were loose, if he were wet in the right spot. He closed his eyes at the thought of Steve just slipping into him now, no prep. It was nearly enough to have his cock filling again.

“Fuck,” Steve laughed against Eddie’s shoulder. “I love you.”

Eddie tensed.

Steve tensed.

Steve pulled away, panic all over his face.

Eddie didn’t-

He couldn’t-

He got off of Steve’s lap, crashing down to earth.

“Eddie-”

Eddie stood and ran.

He could handle not being loved.

He was used to not being loved the way he needed and wanted to be.

But he couldn’t handle the small flicker of hope being dashed in his chest. He couldn’t handle the pity Steve would show, apologizing for saying something he didn’t mean in the heat of the moment.

He couldn’t handle how much he wanted it to be true.

Day four: ao3 | tumblr

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #sub eddie week #sub eddie munson #dom steve harrington #brat eddie munson

[gxtfictx]

52 pick up - Emily Prentiss x Fem!reader

Summary: So basically this is a Emily x reader one shot based on ep 4x9 because I really wanted to read one but I could not find ANYTHING so I guess I had to write it myself *sighs*

TW: spoilers for 4x09, Fem!reader, (very poorly written) smut, mutual masturbation, fingering (this might be so bad I’m sorry in advance if it is) I think that’s it but let me know if I miss anything

A/n: very new fanfic writer so please be gentle and any feedback is appreciated 🙏 English is not my first language so sorry for the possible mistakes

•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*

“we need to study his style up close and personal. It’s gonna take someone that he’s already attracted to” Spencer says, raising his eyebrows in a suggestive tone, soon enough, Morgan and Hotch are also looking at Emily, and you are too, only to realize what they’re trying to say

“oh… oh this is really gonna suck” Emily complains when she realizes she’s the one who will have to approach Viper.

You really didn’t like this idea. You weren’t obviously happy to let your girlfriend get in the line just to be approached by that same asshole who had already been extremely inappropriate to her, objectifying her, suggesting he could “make her do whatever he wanted”. Only if he knew if there was anybody in the world capable of making Emily Prentiss do anything was you.

All of that was true, but why was also true, and you wouldn’t admit, was how unreasonably jealous that thought made you.

You knew for sure Emily would never cheat on you, or do anything to deliberately hurt you in any way, and there was also the fact that she was a lesbian, so there is no way she would be attracted to that guy in any way, however it did make you feel jealous, just the idea of your beautiful, sexy girlfriend walking into that bar, as a literal decoy, her, all dressed up as any other night she would do, to go out with you and the rest for a BAU party night, but instead getting there by herself just with the aim to be eye-fucked by that disgusting misogynist of a man.

“ok but you’re not going by yourself, I’m going with you. It could be more effective is we approach him as a couple, isn’t that what our unsub has been doing anyway?”

You wait for your boss’ response, he frowns as he considers the idea

“You’re right, it could be more effective that way. Go get ready” He finally admits, and you go get your go bag

•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*

You enter the room while Emily is already changing in, opening the door slightly just to take a peek so you can surprise her. She is already unbuttoning her work shirt.

“would you like me to finish that for you?”

You ask her, a she startles

“jeez y/n! you scared me, I didn’t know you were there!”

“Sorry, honey” you say as you enter the room and close it behind you

“are you excited to go clubbing or are you mad that I offered to go with you? I just really hated the idea of you approaching that asshole by yourself” you walk up to her, surrounding her waist with your arms, resting your hands on her sides, softly caressing the skin there

“yes…well about that” she surrounds your neck with her arms, twirling little strands of your hair with her fingers there

“you actually got mad?”

“no, no it’s not that… Hotch just came in and we talked about Jordan, and I kind of suggested she came with me”

“so basically I’m not going?”

“it’s just…she’s really trying hard to be a part of the team, and I can’t help it”

“you see yourself in her? Ems…” you knew how good she meant but you couldn’t help to think that she was being too nice to her, plus you weren’t so sure you liked Jordan that much. Maybe it was because you missed JJ, or maybe you just didn’t really like the way she looked at her sometimes.

“I just don’t want her to feel left alone now”

“I know, baby and I love you for that, but you were not like her, you did your best ever since the first day, you never needed to prove yourself by lying or anything like that

“Yes, but I did feel very left out at times, and I will never forget how comforted it made me feel that you included me and asked me for help at times”

“yes, but that was because I was trying to get in your pants” she laughs and closes her eyes slightly as in “I can’t believe you’re saying that” way.

It’s sometimes surprising how shy Emily can get specially considering her confidence in the bedroom, and also how she would slip some suggestive comments about your relationship in front of the team from time to time mostly to surprise them, but you loved both sides of her, and you though her shyness was adorable, so you laugh with her.

“I know it’s important for you, and it’s just so cute how you want to help her, so I’ll forget about it and just stick with Morgan and Reid, but if he touches you, remember I’m armed.”

She smiles, softly, looking at your lips, and she kisses you softly, and you gently kiss her back.

“I promise I’ll compensate you”

“I will hold you on for that one”

•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*

It can feel strange to be dressed in your casual work clothes in the middle of a bar but there you are, handing in flyers with Morgan and Reid, you can’t help but to look among all the faces trying to find Emily, completely aware of how bad this could affect her cover, but you can’t help it.

She should be here already, what’s taking her so long?

Someone is suddenly standing behind you, you turn hopeful to see Emily but disappointed to see it’s just Morgan

“is pretty girl looking for her girlfriend?” he teases you

“shouldn't they be here already?” You ask him, ignoring the teasing

“relax beautiful, or you’re gonna blow up their cover, and even Pretty boy here has handed in more flyers than you, don’t get so distracted” he advices you, but you don’t really listen, you just keep walking around until you catch a glimpse of someone standing on a table, you can instantly recognize Emily, wearing a beautiful black dress that hugged her curves perfectly, accentuating her breasts and making her look more beautiful if that was even possible already.

Almost immediately you can see Viper approaching her, he looks so confident in his “alpha male” appearance but you’re certain it will take Emily mere seconds to destroy him.

Then Jordan arrives, she has also dressed up for the occasion but she doesn’t look nearly as hot as your girlfriend. They both engage in a conversation with Viper, visibly suggestive. At the beginning you can tell his confident, he has done this a million times, but as time passes, and the conversation goes on, every time one of her talks he also gets more and more insecure.

You observe how Emily teases him, at one point she gets so close to his mouth you actually believe he’s going to kiss her but she just laughs it off and his body language changes again.

Looking at your beautiful girlfriend interacting in this way from afar was making you feel more and more aroused it even embarrassed you that it was turning you on, but you couldn’t help it. I mean, how could you when she just looked like that? You couldn’t even blame yourself every time you looked at her mouth and how her lipstick suited her perfectly.

Everything happens quicker than you thought, first thing you notice is how their face expressions change, and suddenly they’re walking away, leaving Viper there, and picking up the phone probably to call Hotch. You look for Morgan and Reid and tell them it’s time to leave.

•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*

Back at the precinct you catch Emily when she’s entering the changing room again, you check that Jordan isn’t inside too, and get in with her.

“you look… wow” it’s the first thing you say to her. She’s looking straight at you, with a smile on her face, hinting she probably has something in mind for you

“you liked it?”

“Em, you look so beautiful”

“I could see you there in the back you know?” she grabs you by the waist, gently pushing your back against the lockers, you surround her with your arms for support, she keeps talking seductively, with her face so close you yours that your lips could crush if you just moved a bit closer. Instead you both just remain there, as Emily talks, just millimeters away from kissing

“really?” you ask, it’s a stupid question but you’re too surprised to say something coherent right now.

“really, yeah, you were practically drooling, was I doing that to you baby? “

“yes, god Emily yes”

She closes the space between us, her lips crashing against yours, practically devouring you, softly, full of lust.

Emily’s kisses were like that, no matter how much they lasted she always left you wanting more.

Her hands pull your waist to hers, grabbing your flesh desperately, anywhere she could find it. You run your finger through her soft black curls. Her tongue finds yours in a matter of seconds and suddenly the kiss turns into something bigger, her hands travel down to find your ass giving it a gentle squeeze because you know how much I love that she grabs your ass and how much it turns you on

You hear a knock on the door interrupting the scene, and you fly away from each other in less than a second

“Come in!” Emily just says a bit too loud. Her cheeks are red, and when Jordan enters she notices

“sorry, am I interrupting something?” she says, but it’s not a real apology

“no, sorry I was already leaving” you reply maybe a little too fast, and with one last look to Emily, you leave.

•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*

After a case is closed you always feel like an eternity has passed. You are way so tired you can barely stand anymore, but at least you’re glad you got there in time to save the last woman the unsub had taken before something horrible happened to her.

You enter your hotel room, the one you shared with Emily. You started sharing rooms during cases after you made your relationship public, Hotch thought it was for the better since you wouldn’t be sneaking out of your rooms every night, and technically you were saving money.

“my feet are killing me, maybe those heels weren’t such a great idea as I thought” she sits on the bed, and you help her take her shoes off

“if I remember correctly, you had promised something to me” she grabs you by the waist, getting you closer to her, looking up from where she’s sitting

She simply smiles, looking up at you

“you know me. Im a woman of my word” she starts unzipping your pants, pulling them off your legs, she leaves a little kiss right on top of your underwear, she grabs them and pulls them down just like she did with your pants.

You start unbuttoning your shirt, and she does the same thing, but before she can finish you interrupt her

“you’ve undressed many times today already, let me be the one who takes you clothes off now” you move to sit next to her and you take her shirt off, then to unzipping her pants. It doesn’t take muck more for Emily to take the lead. She pushes you down so your back is laying flat on the bed, just to finish unbuttoning your shirt and opening it to discover you’re not wearing a bra underneath

“look at what we have here!” she teases you

“you look beautiful like this baby, did you enjoy the little act on the bar today? Because I think it turned you on, you couldn’t take your eyes off of me could you?” she says positioning herself on top of you, straddling you, lowering her face to kiss your cheek, then your neck, leaving soft and wet kisses all over your jaw.

“Yes, Em god yes” you say completely out of breath

“was my baby jealous?” she asks, alternating kisses between words

“I was” you admit, completely at her mercy, and very turned on by how her fingers trace all around your stomach, your chest, how she whispers in your ear and kisses everywhere she can reach.

“you’re mine, baby” she whispers in your ear, and moves to bite of on your earlobe

“I’m yours” you answer, and you can feel her smile forming on her lips against the tender skin right behind your jaw where she was kissing you

She started her trip down your body, leaving wet kisses all along your skin, stopping suddenly when she reached the hemline of your underwear. She put her hair between her ears and instead of going on to where you wanted her, she began kissing her way up your thighs, nipping the sensitive skin there which you were sure will leave small purple marks tomorrow that you were too ashamed to admit you loved carrying with your for the whom day, watching them on your own reflection on the mirror, tracing with your fingers the same path her lips had made hours ago.

She reached closer to your centre, lingering right where your thighs ended and met the elastic on your underwear. This had you bucking up your waist to her face, which caused a giggle from her

“someone’s eager”

“Em you’ve teased me enough already, just please” you say out of breath, begging her to get where you wanted her the most

“I can’t say no to you” she kisses you right in the middle of your underwear, the sudden contact making you moan in pleasure

“Fuck. Em” your hands practically flew to wrap your fingers between her hair.

She uses her own mouth to lower your underwear with her teeth, and taking them all the way off using her right hand, the other one never leaving its place. Other times Emily would simply move your underwear enough to get exactly what she wanted, but tonight she needed you naked, nothing more than you on her head.

Before you could complain on her slow pace, her lips crashed against yours, she moaned in your mouth and you did the same, simultaneously she cupped you, a slight cry in pleasure leaving your lips

“Emily please, just ple-“ Emily cut you off by burying two fingers inside you, the sudden pleasure causing a long, loud moan escape your lips.

You were both always so vocal about your time together even when staying at hotels, so you could count that Morgan would be teasing you about it tomorrow since he was the one sharing a wall with you. But you could not be bothered.

“Am I hurting you?” She asked with genuine concern on her eyes.

“No, it’s perfect just don’t stop” she smiled against your lips. You decided to take advantage of the situation, and moved the one hand that wasn’t wrapped on her hair, to meet her centre, and gently run your finger through her.

“Fuck. Don’t stop” she breathed before kissing you again.

She continued to move her fingers inside of you and you met each thrust but you almost fell apart when she pressed her thumb against your clit and rubbed

One last hard press against it had you coming undone, Emily let you ride your orgasm, although it doesn’t take her long to reach her high as well and she comes apart collapsing on top of you.

The heavy breaths filled the silent room, you caressed her hair, and she gave you a last peck on the lips before getting off of you, moving so you could face each other, she wraps her arm around your waist and brings you as close to her as possible.

“I couldn’t stand the way she was looking at you today” you admit

“How she looked at me? Don’t you mean he?” She asks

“I mean both of them, Viper and Jordan”

“Oh c’mon, you’re not being serious” she laughs it off

“I’m serious, I really think she’s into you”

“You’re not even jealous anymore, you are being completely unreasonable now”

“Ok, whatever you say, just remember, my gay radar never fails” you tell her to make her laugh, but you’re not totally joking

“Just so you know, Viper was right. I did have someone in my mind”

“Oh? And who might that be?” You say teasingly

“Try and guess” she says, going for another kiss that you reciprocate with a big smile on your lips.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:

#wlw #lesbian #lesbian pride #wlw fanfic #wlw smut #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #Emily Prentiss #Emily Prentiss x reader #Emily Prentiss x you #criminal minds x reader #Emily Prentiss imagine #Emily Prentiss wlw #emily prentiss lesbian #bisexual reader #cm 4x09 #criminal minds 4x09 #cm 52 pickup

[izels-writing]

s. black — how you get the girl [1/2]

*idea was given to me by @sunny-prongs !! <3

Pairing: sirius black x fem!reader

Summary: sirius has no idea how to get the girl this time.

Warnings: i actually suck at writing flirting, slightly ooc sirius?, i accidentally keep making all these gryffindor!readers so i apologize,

PART ONE, PART TWO (coming soon!)

you weren't quite sure someone had made you feel so many emotions at once the way sirius black did. even when he'd enter the room, the ínstense emotions you'd experience being in his general vicinity was absolutely mind-boggling. not that you'd ever admit it.

sirius black was the one boy at school that everyone wanted, even if they didn't admit it. he was funny, he was unbelievably handsome, and he was admittedly smarter than he gave himself credit for. and dear god, did he know it...

the boy didn't exactly lack confidence—matter of fact, he may have too much of it. but that didn't matter, because everyone believed that yes, he deserved that confidence in himself. he earned it. he could breathe in someone's direction and they're instantly melt—he was inconceivably charismatic and likeable. even the professors admitted it so.

yet, the only person who didn't seem to think so was you.

not because you desired to be different from everyone else—because, unfortunately, you found him handsome as well and you found yourself day dreaming what it would be like to be loved by him. but because you saw the way he treated the girls he had flings with. you saw the way he'd be so indifferent to their attachment and infatuation with him. more noticeably, you noticed the way he never bothered to keep a consistent relationship with any girl he managed to seduce—if that was even the right word for it.

you didn't want that. you had seen so much of it growing up. you couldn't bare it in a potential romantic partner. so, you didn't. you didn't allow him to see the way you found yourself glancing at him, you didn't allow him to see the way you'd quickly walk away when he did something gentlemanly like hold the door for you, and you certainly didn't let yourself react to his many compliments.

and unfortunately for you, though you didn't know it, you were the one person he wanted that he couldn't have. not for lack of trying, but because you wouldn't allow yourself.

he watched you from afar, mischievous grey eyes following your every move—in a curious, desirable way. nonetheless, you looked at him for a split second before turning to resume your conversation with daniel mckinnon, marlene's older brother.

"anyway, you should talk to her, i'm sure she'll understand," you told daniel. he chuckled and sighed.

"i suppose so, thanks y/n," daniel smiled. he went to say something else, but he glanced behind you and bid you a kind goodbye—all before walking off.

you were left confused, until you felt a presence by your ear, likely because of the loud music booming around you. it was difficult to hear in the common room which held a celebration for the gryffindor quidditch team.

"he's always been good at taking hints," a silky voice whispered in your ear. immediately recognizing it, you turned around and raised an eyebrow at the eldest black brother.

"yeah, he is—something you lack apparently," you replied, glaring at sirius challengingly.

sirius grinned. "oh come on, princess, you can't be that way with me. you look great, by the way, is that a new dress?"

you glanced down, smiling slightly at the fact that he noticed. then you came to your senses and rolled your eyes, "i bought it last week, thanks," you replied monotonously.

"of course, doll," he smiled. you rolled your eyes, but he never faltered. you supposed there was an admirable aspect to it.

you took a sip of your drink, before looking up at him. "what do you want, black?" you demanded.

sirius laughed. "what makes you think i want something? what if i just wanted to ask how you were doing?"

"but you don't," you corrected. "which raises the question, as per usual..."

"fine, how about you let me dance with you...and if things go well, let me take you on a date next weekend?" sirius suggested, brushing loose hair from your face behind your ear.

you had to admit to yourself, he made you incredibly nervous. he was suave and handsome, and just the perfect amount of flirty without being uncomfortable to be around. he had a thing with calling you pet names that normally you'd cringe at the mention of, but when he said it, they didn't sound so bad. and dear god, when he subtly touched you, you felt like melting into the ground. nonetheless, you knew this was just part of his strategy to sleep with you. you'd seen it with other girls he interacted it, perhaps not to the extent he did it with you, but he certainly did it. you had to keep reeling in your common sense.

"in your dreams, sirius," you scoffed. quickly, before the other part of you could take it back, you walked off and immersed yourself into the party.

sirius watched you walk away, smirking like he had actually gotten you to say yes.

——

you waited patiently for your friend marlene mckinnon to return from quidditch practice before heading up to your shared dorm. normally, you preferred to be in your own room and on your own bed—but marlene hated being alone in the common room, as she was easily scared despite the tough facade she put on in front of dorcas.

a quick patter of footsteps rushed over to you, before they finally sat beside you. the boy, who you quickly and unfortunately recognized, kicked his feet up on the coffee table and put an arm on the couch, so that it was almost around you. you sat back and turned to him, narrowing your eyes at him. sirius grinned happily at you.

“you’re like a lovesick puppy, you know that?” you scoffed, crossing your arms. you knew it was all an act, but you could help the feeling of happiness it gave you knowing that he only really showed you this type of attention.

“only you bring out this side of me, did you know that?” he attempted, but you rolled your eyes and looked away momentarily. unfortunately for you, you turned to look at him again and your (e/c) eyes met his grey ones. and dear god, they were easy to get lost in.

“where’s your boy band? usually you four are attached at the hip,” you asked, genuinely curious despite your nonchalant tone. he smiled at you before replying, counting off the three in his fingers.

“remus is doing his prefect duties, james has quidditch practice, and peter is on a date,” he replied. “leaving me, all on my lonesome…with you, of course,” his smile brightened the room and it seemed like he knew it.

“surely you have something interesting to do,” you commented, liking the fact that you could at the very least have a conversation with him.

“none as interesting as you,” he grinned.

you chuckled. “okay, that was smooth, i’ll give you that one,”

“what’re you doing down here anyway?” sirius then asked, looking curiously at the book in your lap. you closed it, finding that perhaps a genuine conversation with him was worth having even despite the flirtations.

“waiting for marls, she hates coming into an empty common room,” you replied. “creeps her out,”

he smiled. “you’re a good friend, you know that?”

you turned to him curtly, smiling back at him—genuinely smiling back him. “thank you,” you replied.

your faces were inches away from each other, if even, and you couldn’t help but feel the slight tension. you wanted to pull away, you really really did. at the very least, he hadn’t tried anything.

he brought a tattooed hand to your face, pushing a hair behind your ear. he almost leaned in—or maybe you were imagining it. but then, common sense kicked you in the head and you cleared your throat.

quickly, you stood up and gathered your things. every nonsensical part of you wanted to stay and see where it would lead, and the other logical part of you knew better than to be so naïve. sirius was only interested because you had been so difficult to get, after he got with you—you’d just be another girl to him. you and any other girl at this school did not deserve that.

“yeah, i can’t do this,” you mumbled. without another word, you rushed up to your dorm. in your wake, you left a confused, mildly hurt sirius black on the couch. he could still smell your perfume and your bright smile was burned into the back of his brain like a prayer.

and for a moment, he thought what it would be like if he actually got to kiss you.

——

“i don’t understand,” marlene mumbled, stroking your head as you laid on her lap. you were feeling very dejected and upset after the whole sirius situation. “if you like him, and he more than obviously seems to like you, what’s stopping you?”

you sat up, situating yourself to look at marlene with a dejected look. “the principle, marls! you’ve seen how he treats every other girl here, these are nice girls who he would be lucky to have as his girlfriend! how do we know he won’t treat me the same? how do we know he actually likes me the way i like him?”

marlene sighed. “yeah, you have a point—i just hate seeing you so conflicted and upset, boys are so dumb,” she shook her head. you laughed, nodding in agreement.

“what if i talk to james?” marlene suggested. “if there’s anyone who knows him better than himself, it’s james,”

you groaned. “but then he’ll know i have a crush on sirius! and then he’ll tell sirius, and then sirius’ll know i have a crush on him!”

“true,” marlene huffed. “straight relationships are impossible,”

you laughed, shoving marlene. “shut up,”

——

“pads, maybe you should actually sit down and tell her how you feel,” james said offhandedly as he tinkered with a music box that lily gave him to fix. the two had only been dating for a few months, if that, and already it seemed like they have been together forever—in a good way, of course.

sirius, who had dramatically sprawled himself on the bed, lifted his head up to look at james. “what?! are you crazy?!” he exclaimed.

remus scoffed. “what’s so crazy about that? james did it and now he and lily are great together,” he closed his book, looking at sirius and waiting for his response.

“because…those are real feelings! i mean i’d have to explain everything to her, how i feel around her, everything and i just…no, it’s too gross,” sirius sighed. “of course i like her, i’m in love with her actually! but i can’t just tell her!”

peter and remus exchanged a look before peter quipped up, “so you’re afraid of rejection and vulnerability and commitment?”

sirius looked up and glared at him. “what? nuh uh!”

“yuh huh,” peter replied.

“nuh uh!”

“yuh huh!”

“nuh uh!”

“yuh huh!”

“face it pads, you have issues with commitment, rejection, and being emotionally vulnerable,” james shrugged, continuing to tinker with the music box.

“james and peter are right, that’s why you’ve never had a girlfriend—well, that and you’ve been in love with y/n since our second year,” remus added, raising an eyebrow at sirius.

“shut up,” sirius grumbled.

“you’re going to have to get over that if you want to be with her, marlene’s told me why she won’t go out with you—and frankly i don’t blame y/n,” james said.

sirius scrambled up from his bed, practically jumping onto james’ to sit in front of him. “they talk about me? what did y/n say? what did she exactly say?”

james shook his head. “you’re going to have to figure it out for yourself, i won’t betray marlene’s trust,”

“prongs, please! you’re my only hope!” sirius exclaimed.

“no, marlene told me in confidence,” james replied. “ask her yourself,”

sirius grumbled. “fine…”

“you are the most dramatic person i’ve ever met,” remus chuckled, “and mary once cried over breaking her nail, granted it had taken her a long time to grow out—“

sirius glared at remus, making the werewolf quickly shut his mouth.

#sirius black #james potter #peter pettigrew #the marauders #marauders era #remus lupin #harry potter #sirius black x reader #sirius orion black #sirius being sirius #sirius black x you #sirius x reader

[clangenrising]

Month 14 - Newleaf

“Thank you all for coming,” Goldenstar said to the assembled warriors of RisingClan. “This should be quick.” Everyone had gathered at sunhigh to talk while the kits were sleeping. Even Sagetooth and Oddstripe were in attendance. The only cat missing was Songdust, whose absence hung heavy over the group like an ill omen.

Yarrowshade shrugged and said, “We’re happy to be here, Goldie.” She smiled and he grinned in return. It was good to see her smiling again. Beside her, Scorchplume’s tail was twined with hers, a development he had noticed a few days ago but said nothing about yet. Neither of them seemed to want to bring it up either so he left it alone.

“We all want to see the end of this war,” said Pantherhaze and the rest of the group concurred. Yarrowshade in particular couldn’t wait to pay the rogues back for all the grief they had caused him. His claws ached to sink into their fur. His skin itched for the satisfaction of a well-deserved wound.

“I’ve been discussing strategies with Scorchplume,” Goldenstar said, “and she thinks there’s a way we could manage to take Razor out of play, which would be huge.” 

“Yes,” Scorchplume said, less excited than Goldenstar was. “It’s risky though.”

“Risky is what we do,” Floodpaw purred proudly. Oddstripe clucked with worry. 

“Right,” said Goldenstar. “A risk with big pay off is way better than continuing to sit and wait. Go ahead.” 

“Alright,” sighed Scorch. Yarrowshade watched her shift uncomfortably and added another smack to the list of punishments he owed Razor. “When Smokyrose came to the city, they were discussing a peace agreement. Until Ghost arrived, it looked like he was going to arrange a one on one meeting with Goldenstar that he would use to ambush her and take out your leader.” 

A few cats shifted bitterly at the mention of Smokyrose. 

“The plan is to arrange that meeting,” Goldenstar said with a fiery conviction in her voice, “and then ambush him back.” 

“But it’s extremely dangerous,” Scorch cautioned. “Goldenstar will have to be basically alone with Razor for at least a few moments. If there are any mistakes, Goldenstar could die.” 

“I could lose a life,” Goldenstar admitted, “but that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make. As long as the rest of you come in to corner him, we should succeed.” Scorch chewed her lip, tail rippling irritably, and Yarrowshade realized that she still didn’t believe in Goldenstar’s nine lives. 

“I think it sounds like a solid course of action,” Sagetooth said. “I’ll consult StarClan but I think we should plan on going through with it.” 

“We should ask the other Clans too,” said Pantherhaze. “We only won the last battle because of their help. We could use it again.” 

“Yeah, we don’t know how many cats Razor will bring with him,” said Sparrowpaw. “Best to be prepared.”

“I agree,” Goldenstar said, “and I’m sure something this important will get Flightstar and Snowstar to agree to it. Scorchplume believes that Razor thinks I’m the Clans’ only leader, so I’ll also be the one meeting him and taking on all the risk.” Scorch shifted again.

“Just don’t take any unnecessary risks,” Oddstripe said. “I don’t want to have more of you injured than is necessary.” Sagetooth twitched her ear. 

“We’ll train in defensive combat strategies and cooperative fighting in preparation,” said Russetfrond, looking more like himself than he had over the last couple days. Yarrowshade had enjoyed how miserable Mystique’s pregnancy had made him at first but by now he was just glad that the deputy had stopped moping. It was unsettling - too unlike him.

“Good idea,” Goldenstar nodded. “Russetfrond and I will come up with a more decisive battle plan and share it with you all during training. Are there any other questions?” 

“What are we going to do about Songdust?” Floodpaw asked impatiently. Barleypaw nodded. Sparrowpaw looked at the ground. Pantherhaze and Ospreymask leaned forward for the answer.

Goldenstar shifted. “That’s a little more complicated…” 

“I know a cat or two who might be able to help,” Scorch said, “but there’s not much we can do without going into the city which we can’t really do with Razor in power like this.” 

“StarClan will protect her if they can,” Sagetooth said. “Defeating Razor is the first step. Then we can think about rescuing Songdust.” No one seemed satisfied with that answer, but Scorch was right. There wasn’t really anything they could do. 

After a moment or two of silence, Goldenstar said, “Alright then. Meeting adjourned. Everyone focus on preparing for the battle. May StarClan guide us.”

“May StarClan guide us,” said Sagetooth, Oddstripe, Barleypaw, and Pantherhaze’s staggered voices. The cats began to disperse. Yarrowshade picked himself up and moved to talk with Scorch and Goldenstar. 

“Hey, you guys wanna go train or something?” he asked. Goldenstar looked to Scorchplume.

“You two can go,” Scorch said. “I’m not going to go anywhere near Razor.” 

“Still, it can’t hurt to get some practice in, right?” Yarrowshade asked. She looked at him and he swore he could hear her thoughts, how irritating she found him, how much she hated him for ‘choosing Nightfrost.’

“Fine,” she said shortly. 

“Great,” Goldenstar laughed a little and Scorch shot her a subtle glare. “Or what if we scout out places for the meeting instead? That’s something you could help with.” 

“I suppose,” Scorchplume hummed, seeming more inclined to that idea. Yarrowshade couldn’t help but feel like she just liked Goldenstar’s ideas better than his. He swallowed tightly and tried not to look disappointed. 

“Sounds good to me,” he said brightly. “Let’s go.” 

They set out towards the southern border. The day was warm for the season, bright and sunny with a welcome breeze. Yarrowshade tilted his face to the sun and tried to enjoy the warmth of it. 

“How’ve you been, by the way?” asked Goldenstar.

He tilted his head in her direction. “Good, I guess.” Lonely. “I’ve missed hanging out with you two though.” 

“Same, honestly,” Goldenstar said, leaning into Scorchplume’s side. “I can’t wait for all this business to be over so things can go back to normal.” 

“Normal is extremely relative,” Scorch hummed. “I for one am sick of normal.”

“We’ll just have to make a new normal then,” Yarrowshade tried, offering her a smile. She raised her brows at him but said nothing. He tried not to frown. 

“Scorch,” Goldenstar said softly. “He’s trying. Be nice to him.” Yarrowshade blushed at being called out like that. Was he so obvious? Scorch scowled at Goldenstar but there was no malice in her gaze. 

“I’ll do what I please,” she huffed.

“I know,” purred Goldenstar, “but you guys used to be good friends right? I don’t see the point in holding onto a grudge when you could just get along again.”

“Look,” Yarrowshade cut in, fur prickling in discomfort, “if it helps; I’m sorry for whatever I did.”

“Whatever you did?” Scorch raised her brows even higher somehow. 

“Yes?” he winced. This felt like a trap. 

“What was that, exactly?” Scorch asked. Goldenstar was mouthing something but he was terrible at reading lips. 

“For…” Yarrowshade hesitated. He had to find the correct answer. “For not choosing you?” There was a moment of silence where Scorch sized him up and he and Goldenstar held their breath. 

Then Scorch said, “Apology accepted.” Both Yarrowshade and Goldenstar sighed in relief. Scorch flicked her ear in annoyance. 

But after that, things were alright. Yarrowshade brought up a funny story from hunting with Barleypaw the other day and the others laughed. Scorch poked fun at him with an easy smile rather than a cold, defensive one. Goldenstar wouldn’t stop purring. He still felt like he was walking on thin ice, but at least for now Scorch was finding him entertaining. That was all he wanted, really. 

Discussion moved on to talk about how Barleypaw and her littermates would be warriors in a moon or two. Goldenstar expressed being nervous about her first real warrior ceremony as leader and Scorch and Yarrowshade told her she had nothing to worry about. From there, they started talking about Slatekit and Fogkit and their upcoming ceremony. 

“I still don’t know who should mentor Fogkit,” said Goldenstar as they paused to examine the sightlines on one hill. “I think I have Slatekit settled but Fogkit doesn’t like Ospreymask anymore and I’m not sure who else could mentor her.” 

“She’s a pawful, isn’t she?” Yarrowshade chuckled. “Yesterday I caught her ‘crafting curses’ out of claw sheds and bird bones.” 

“Crafting curses?” Scorch said skeptically. 

“Yeah,” shrugged Yarrowshade. “I don’t know where she got the idea but she said she was trying to curse the rogues to death.” He shook his head. “I’m honestly glad I already have Barleypaw cause I don’t think I would want to try and untangle that whole mess.” 

“Yeah, that’s the thing,” Goldenstar said. “I would take her myself but I’ve already got Floodpaw.”

“You can’t just take every apprentice who seems like they’ll be a pawful,” Scorch huffed. 

“Is that a challenge?” Goldenstar teased and Scorch rolled her eyes. 

“Look, if it’s really such a predicament, just give her to me.” 

Yarrowshade and Goldenstar fell into stunned silence. 

“What?” Scorch bristled defensively. “Is that so outlandish?”

“No, no,” Goldenstar said quickly, a smile spreading across her face, “I just didn’t expect you to want an apprentice! I mean, it’s a pretty big commitment.” 

“Does that mean you’re staying?” Yarrowshade asked excitedly. 

Scorch swished her tail back and forth, puffing up like a ginger pigeon. “For now,” she said. “By the time I leave, Floodpaw will be a warrior and then Goldenstar can take over her training.” 

Yarrowshade cocked a brow, smirking. “I don’t buy it.” 

Goldenstar was grinning like an idiot. “Oh, Scorch!” she purred, butting her head into Scorchplume’s shoulder. “I love you so much!”

“That’s it!” Scorch said, putting both paws on Goldenstar’s face and shoving her away. “I’m actually leaving right now and throwing myself in the river.” 

“Wait, no!” wailed Goldenstar through laughter. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to use the forbidden word!” She threw herself at Scorch’s feet and clung to her like a needy kitten. Scorch huffed a laugh through her nose. 

“Please, your excellence,” she said, pretending to be scandalized, “you forget yourself.” Goldenstar laughed, chest thrumming with an uncontrollable purr. 

Yarrowshade swallowed thickly. Grief, unexpected and overwhelming, flooded his mind as he watched them joke and flirt. Neither of them seemed to notice and he was grateful for it. He carefully turned away and started down the far side of the hill, breathing slowly through his nose to try and stop himself from tearing up. 

Get it together, Yarrowshade, he thought to himself. This was such a stupid thing to cry over! He wasn’t going to let them see him like this. 

“Look,” Scorch said smugly, “your pathetic displays have scared off Yarrowshade.”

“Ah!” Goldenstar cried, still laughing, “Yarrowshade, wait! I’m sorry!”

He paused and let out one last breath before forcing the frown off of his face. “I think this hill is too exposed,” he said, glancing back at them. “Maybe we should try somewhere with trees?”

“Oh, that’s a good idea,” Goldenstar had gotten to her feet and was halfway to him, Scorch trailing behind. Both of them looked so happy it hurt to watch.

“Do you think Orangestar would let us hold the meeting on EarthClan territory?” he asked, looking away. He focused his eyes on the trees up ahead and tried to pretend that he was fine. 

“Maybe!” Goldenstar said. “I’ll bring it up at the Gathering.” 

“Hmm,” Scorch chewed her lip. “Could we take a look anyway or would that be inappropriate.” 

“I’m not sure,” Goldenstar said.

“Probably best to wait for permission,” Yarrowshade said. 

“Yeahhhh,” Goldenstar sighed. “Oh well. Why don’t we catch some lunch and head back?” 

“Sounds good to me,” said Scorch. 

“Yeah,” Yarrowshade turned back to them, smiling again even if it felt a little forced. “I’d love that.”

#clan gen #clangen #warrior cats #warriors #warrior cats oc #warriors oc #clangen oc #clan gen oc #Goldenstar #Yarrowshade #Pantherhaze #Sagetooth #Oddstripe #Scorchplume #Floodpaw #Sparrowpaw #Russetfrond #Newleaf #Clangenrising

[everythingne]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ➛ out of the woods - chapter seven (ls2)

Logan tries to give the two of short break in Bali. Which does succeed, but then the Canadian GP tears down anything Dhanishka had left to stand on. Good thing she's got Logan, the Norris' and Charles, right?

warnings/notes: alright buckle in. Like two sex jokes, car accidents, concussions/migraines, lightly mentioned injuries, the FIA doing their job, heavy heavy betrayal, me yet again trying to hint at the biggest Marketing Ploy x Out Of The Woods connection no one has noticed LMAO

Logan's arm is firm around my waist as I stir the food in the pan, watching the sizzle of the chicken against the oil underneath it. I murmur along to the song playing, and Logan sways us to the rhythm. I'm home for a weekend with him while my parents are off in Cambridge with my sister for her college visit. We'd taken the invitation to house sit, deciding to take a full break in the short interim off we have before we both have to leave for Canada.

"We should go somewhere." Logan hums, mouth peppering a kiss to my bare shoulder next to the strap of my tank top. He's been abnormally clingy, and while I would usually mind... it feels nice.

"Where would we even go, Lo?"

He smiles, beginning to pepper soft kisses to my shoulder, trailing them up my neck as he speaks, "Well, Dalton and his wife are in Bali this weekend. He told me he wants to see you again."

"Bali? That's a like.. fifteen hour flight from here." I chuckle, squirming when his kisses get a little ticklish around my neck and the air he huffs out in a alguh rolls across my skin.

"Fifteen hours there, then a twenty three hour flight to Canada." He says, "I looked into it."

I blink, then look down at him, "You already bought the tickets, didn't you?"

Logan smirks and I laugh, capturing his lips in a soft kiss, "I'll tell my parents tonight when they get back. I'm sure they won't mind."

Logan grins and pops a few more kisses to my lips, cheeks, and forehead before I shooing him away so I can keep cooking. The meal I'm making is not something I'd typically be eating, because its for Logan's meal plan, but luckily his team had let me throw in a small bit of Indian influence to the dish via a makeshift biryani dish. Which I know Logan's been missing by the way he melts when he steals a bite.

"You cook like your mom used to when we were kids." Logan groans against my shoulder and I laugh, taking my own spoonful and pouting a bit because its not as flavorful as we used to make it.

"You have to come to Bahrain over your winter break so you can have a proper Aayi Dubey biryani with all the spices and such." I muse, "it's lacking my mothers proper smothering of spices, sadly meal plans do restrict us from going full Indian mother here."

Logan nods, taking a bit more of the rice dish into his mouth and I laugh softly before making us two bowls of it to eat. He starts washing up some of the dishes while I'm setting the table, and I mange to pull him away to eat--promising we'll finish cleaning later.

We don't talk of much, other than him calling Dalton to let him know we'll be in Bali in two days their time. He taps his sock against my leg as I stare out the window at the setting sun. It's comfortable, just existing with him.

"I never thought we'd get here." Logan admits and I turn, looking at him curiously which makes him continue, "I thought you'd hate me through this whole thing after that night and we'd never speak again."

"I did too, to be honest." I laugh softly, finishing off the last of my rice and setting the bowl aside to take Logan's hands to stop him from picking at his fingers, "I called Lando about it, since he was the only person I knew in London at the time since Oscar was... I don't even remember, and Charles was in Monaco. I went to his and Olivia's apartment, the one they have over here because of McLaren? They told me I should just go through with the plan and do the whole fake dating thing because we kinda had too, but also to see if it maybe wasn't as one sided as I thought."

Logan just starts to giggle, small laughs that slowly grow louder before he brings my hand to his lips again, kissing my palm and then each finger.

"What's got you like this?" I laugh in response, and he grins at me sloppily with the most lovestruck look as his lips hover over my left hand. His bottom lip just brushing along my ring finger as he smiles and shrugs.

"Funnily enough, Dalton told me the same thing.” He firmly kisses my ring finger now, and just resorts to playing with my hands as a fidget instead, “You really fell for me huh?"

And now it's my turn to laugh, standing up to lean over the table to properly kiss my boyfriend. He grins, meeting me halfway with a gentle caress of my jaw and when we pull back, I rest my forehead to his.

"I was always in love with you, dumbass."

Hours later we're at that same table, Logan making sure the little decorative centerpiece my mother has is perfectly clean while I dot my lipstick back to perfection.

I figured cleaning the entire house and then making ourselves well pull together would keep my father from realizing we'd done nothing but laze around for the last few days.

Hey, we were on break, okay?

“Aw fuck.” I complain as I twist out my lipstick a bit more. Logan hums, looking over at me as I groan impatiently as I pull the whole tube up.

At the second groan he asks, “What’s a matter?”

“I’m almost out of lipstick.” I whine in complaint and he huffs out a laugh, stepping around the table to press a few soft kisses to my cheek.

"We can buy more tomorrow, yeah? Isn't there a Dior in City Centre?" He hums, pressing a kiss to my lips that has me rubbing the lipstick off his lips with a laugh as his arms wrap firmly around my waist.

"Yes, but it's fine, I can get it later and--"

Logan cuts me off with a firmer kiss this time, letting me wipe the lipstick off his lips again as he says, "Let me buy you a refill. For old times sake."

"Fine." I smile as the door opens and Logan retracts to just make it look like he was taking the lipstick from me to put it in my purse. I smile as Anya bounces to my side and starts babbling about the campus and such. I glance over my shoulder to see Logan with mt parents and the smile and wink my mom sends me says one thing,

This is all gonna work out.

logansargeant

liked by daltonsargeant, oscarpiastri, sebvettel, and 876k others...

logansargeant: booked the tickets before i asked her :)

tagged: dhanishkadubey, daltonsargeant, a.sargeant

dhanishkadubey: he deadass goes "my brothers in bali" 😭

user1: SHUT UP SHE WENT ON FAMILY VACATION?

a.sargeant: it was lovely having u and isa!!!

user2: dhanishka sargeant at this point fr

I'm standing in the bathroom of the hotel this time when Logan wraps his arms around my waist. I can hear Dalton and Ashlynn laughing in the connected living room, it feels weirdly homely as he presses a soft kiss to my jaw as one of his hands rubs small soothing circles against my hip bone.

"James call you?" I asked, I had been the one to hand him his phone, so I had seen the caller ID.

"He asked about you, actually." Logan rests his head on my shoulder once I've finished fixing up my hair and I hum as I lean back into his touch. His arms are firm, and the way his gaze wanders across my face tells me he's thinking as he takes one of my hands. My left ring finger is pecked by his lips before he settles them back at my waist again.

"Me?" I hum, watching the way he nods and still thinks. I assume it's the wording as his hands fiddle with something. I'm too focused on doing my eyeliner to look.

"You didn't answer your phone and he wanted to say he’s got the final draft of your contract ready to be signed.”

I laugh softly, looking at him in the mirror, “Wow, already?”

"Mhm." Logan kisses my cheek once I'm done with my eyeliner and steps aside to just watch me finish up my makeup. Once I've sprayed myself down with setting spray, I go to grab my lipstick and open it, pausing when I notice it's refilled.

Logan wears a triumphant smile.

"You." I poke his chest and giggle, capping the lipstick before turning around to kiss him. He laughs into the kiss, catching himself on the doorway as his hands slide around my lower back. One kiss turns to two, and ever since we'd fallen back in love it'd been impossible to keep off of eachother. Like we were making up for lost time.

A few seconds after a soft groan leaves the back of Logan's throat, followed by my giggle, Dalton shouts,

"I'm walking in, you both better be dressed!"

Logan and I laugh and I part from him, lifting my hands to fix up the bits of his hair that I'd jostled. Dalton smiles as he steps in and looks us over.

"What did you think we were doing?" Logan says to Dalton who shrugs, punching his brothers arm.

"Something not PG." Dalton shrugs and I blush, now taking my turn to whack his chest.

"Not with your immature ass around," I hum, turning back to finish up my make-up while Dalton and Logan talk about getting to our dinner reservation.

It's weird how naturally I slot into this little family, like I've always belonged.

Canada starts great. Luckily for Logan, and his success in straights, theres quite a few here. Unluckily for me, it means my overtaking this weekend is gonna be shit.

But, I know I'll fight.

I qualify Q3, beating Logan out by less than .5 or even smaller. I can't even really remember as the whole weekends a blur. Ferrari is practically running me ragged, insane amounts of training, simulator work, media... I'm exhausted each night when I fall into Logan's hotel room bed. His arms barely wrapping around me before I'm asleep against his chest.

He promises it's okay, but I feel like shit each morning for not spending time with him. But he just presses a kiss to my jaw and squeezes my hip as I get out of bed way too early to shower.

And after three nights of that, it's time for the race. By Sunday I feel like a husk, trudging myself to the garage with a water bottle full of Red Bull I'd stolen from Max. I go through the motions, take my migraine medication just as a precaution as I feel a headache forming.

And the first half of the race is fine, until I overtake Oscar to fight Carlos for P3. And I manage to get him on the hairpin turn, but something is weird about how easily he lets me by. The back wheel of my car clips something and I start to spin. I right myself, but narrowly dodge Carlos, who whips around me.

It's fine. I'm fine.

Something bumps me again and I check my mirrors, one of the RB cars coming very close to my side. I curse, steering in a bit more and understeering to get out of who I assume is Yuki's way before I'm blocking him from overtaking.

When did he get around Oscar?

"Wing damage, wing damage, I need to box." I curse into my headset, feeling the steering starting to go. It's always my steering first, I expect the rear wing to follow shortly.

"Copy."

I turn in a bit harder now, trying to get to the pit lane. It's becoming harder to steer and I feel panic rising in my stomach but I clamp it down. All I can do in this moment is trust myself, and trust my training.

I don't make it to the pitlane.

We go back through the hairpin and Carlos juts out, making me swerve to dodge. With my shit steering, it sends me into a spin. I shriek, grabbing my harness as the car--and the world around me, shuffles and spins. When the car stills I huff out slow breaths, willing myself to open my eyes.

I'm in the wall.

I can't move.

I force breaths in, force my hands to unstick from my harness. My hands come to the steering wheel and I shake, trying to disconnect it. Everything feels disconnected. I can't hear. The world is blurry. I feel sick. Sicker than sick. I manage to get the steering wheel out, tossing it up to the top of the car.

I realize no ones called for me over the radio, through the incessant ringing in my ears.

I click off the restraints slowly, trying not to jostle my aching ribs, and I get out of my car with shaking arms. And then promptly fall back in.

"Fuck!" I shriek, groaning and arching my back out of pure pain. Two hands come to my shoulders and I lift my head to see Lando. I know he's talking, but my head is swimming too much to focus on his words.

"C'mon, Danny." Lando's voice finally cuts through when he lifts my visor, "C'mon, we're gonna get you out, okay?"

"Your race..!" I gasp and he shakes his head.

"I can always get more points later, but I can't do anything if you're seriously injured and I don't help you now." He says and I nod. His hands grab under my shoulders and he helps hoist me up to sit on the halo. I try to focus, but find myself in a haze.

Somehow, I end up on a stretcher. My helmet is off and I blink slowly as Lando holds my hands.

"Dhanishka." He says softly. When did he take his helmet off?

"Lando." I hum back as the stretcher starts to roll. He follows, his hands tight in mine as he follows inside the ambulance. They've got me covered in blankets, and something clicks.

"Lando. Lando." I start saying, slapping his hands when he's not looking at me. He stops, taking my hands in his, but I just see that he's looking at me so I gasp out, "tell Logan to race. He's gonna wanna not because I got hit, tell him he has to. Tell him I said so."

When Lando nods, coaxing me to lay down again as they strap me in, I feel a bit more at ease... but the world is still soft and fuzzy and I still feel sick.

Concussed, strained muscles around my ribs, and something fucked up with my shoulder.

I'm out fully for a week, I'll skip Barcelona and be back for Austria.

Lando and Olivia are by my side when I'm told. Olivia taking it upon herself to use my phone to call my parents to let them know what was going on, and when she disappears into the hall, Lando keeps a soothing hand intertwined with mine. It's my first injury, ever. Not just a sore spot that'll go away.

And of course, the hazy symptom I'd been feeling all weekend had to be a major migraine on its way. So I'm grumpy, in serious pain, and quickly losing my stomach in a hospital bathroom while a nurse gently ties my hair back and rubs my shoulders while Lando goes out in the hall to grab Olivia.

I'm so weak I can hardly move, and the nurse is so kind, so gentle. It makes me want to cry as she guides me through the hardest parts of my migraine and gets some painkillers for my IV when it's clear I'm only set to get worse.

It takes off the edge as I'm coaxed to lay down in bed once more, a bucket off to the side if needed.

I learn from the TV playing in the room that Logan went on to place P5 behind Oscar, Carlos, Charles, and Max, in that upwards succession. Which makes me feel better a bit as Lando and Olivia help me get situated. It's only been maybe twenty minutes since the race ended, but I can hear more commotion outside than before.

A nurse calls out my room number and it takes maybe two seconds before Logan comes through the door, still in his racing gear, holding his helmet, panting like he’d ran straight here.

He had, hadn't he?

“Isa.” he sighs and I smile, extending a heavy arm to him. He shuts the door, blocking the hall light and makes his way inside the little makeshift room. He slots perfectly against my side and gently kisses my head, sighing once he’s got me safe in his hands. I wrap my un-IV'd arm around Logan shoulder, kissing what part of his head I can reach without moving. He settles me back against the blankets as Lando gives him his chair, going to get another from the hall.

Olivia sighs softly and moves a bit closer to check my IV, “She’s pretty badly concussed. Strained some muscles around her ribs and her shoulder. She's out for Barcelona, they're gonna try to get her back in for Austria."

"Ah, shit." Logan hums and I lean into his touch so he shifts so one of his hands holds mine, the other running through the wispy bangs by my face that have fallen out of my ponytail.

"Lo..." I murmur softly and he hums, looking down at my small pout. A tiny smile crosses his lips as he leans down to peck mine, then rests his forehead to mine as I whine, "my head hurts."

"I know, baby." He's basically crooning, kissing the tip of my nose and squeezing my hand, "you're gonna be alright."

Olivia gives a tiny sigh, patting Lando's arm and making a vague motion for him to follow her out of the room. They leave me and Logan in silence, the only sound the soft noise of his thumb running along my knuckles, the heart monitors methodical beeps, and the occasional kiss.

Logan, Lando, and Olivia take me back to Ferrari. The two Norris' waiting outside while I slip in with Logan. I'm only half sneaking him in and out, because if Ferrari even tried to raise hell with me when I was as in pain and as pissed off as I was right now, someone would be getting hit.

I nod to Charles when I enter and he gives me a half nod, trying to conceal the way I sneak Logan in by engrossing the engineer with a few more questions about... my car?

Why mine? Why not his?

I let the question slip from my mind, I figure I can ask him later, and go to my room. Logan helps me collect my stuff, having already brought me a change of clothes to the hospital given to him by Charles. Logan uses my phone to send a text to my manager Lucie to show her the damage to the suit, helmet, and shoes so she can get me set for new ones and then we make sure I have all my belongings and bounce.

I'm halfway through shutting the door when I hear Charles shout, "You did what?!"

"She's an idiot if she hasn't realized by now." I hear a mechanic say and I clamp a hand over Logan's mouth, he's about to complain (which, I'm sneaking him out of my drivers room, he has no right to) when a cruel laugh echoes followed by Charles' shocked gasp.

A short conversation in French, slowly getting louder and louder, is cut off by a loud slap and a scuffle. Eyes widening as I hear the two beginning to shout even louder and I grab Logan by the sleeve and shove him in my drivers room. His big eyes watch me as I pause, one hand on the door before I curse and look back at him with a sort of flame in my eyes.

"Stay!" I hiss, before slamming the door shut and following the hall to the garage. He feet carry me, sliding on the balls of my feet into the room as Charles shoved a mechanic against a wall.

"Charlie!" I shriek despite my head pounding, moving forward, knocking him to the ground with my shoulder. As he fall he pants up at me and I turn to the mechanic, then down to Charles, then step back.

"What the fuck is going on?!"

Charles wipes blood from his own nose and slowly rises to his feet. There's a challenge in his eyes, and a challenge in the mechanics--and I come to realize that Aakash stands off to the side with his fists tight.

"What is this?!" I shout again and look down the hall where Astrid is dragging Logan out of my room and I blink, straightening up. She basically tosses Logan at me, and my arms shoot out to grab him as he sticks to my side.

"Ferrari's been purposefully fucking up your car this entire season! Aakash and his--" Charles starts to say before Aakash moves. It's Logan who manages to intercept, shoving me behind him as he shoves Aakash to the floor. My eyes widen to literal dinner plates, backing up until my back hits something and I look up to see Olivia.

Lando seems to have given up on holding her back as she holds her phone up.

"Charles, talk." She snips and the Monégasques listens, quickly spilling everything from his lips as Logan keeps Aakash and the other mechanic at bay, Astrid glaring daggers.

"Aakash has been having the engineers purposefully loosen the steering and rear wings, causing any and all jostling to randomly disengage them. They have it all written out on Aakash's computers, even if he tries to delete the files Ferrari keeps all changes up to a month." Charles shouts, moving closer to where Olivia keeps a hold on my shoulders. Logan backs off as well when Lando calls him over, but the guys stand in front of me and Olivia, like a wall.

"Astrid's plan was to have Dhaniska continuously wreck out so that there would be positive PR of Logan coming to her aid, but bad PR for Dhanishka because she keeps wrecking." Charles says and I see Olivia's jaw tick, her eyes glancing back to Lando's who's are equally as shifty.

Somethings not right.

Olivia and Lando echo each other as they say, "Who?"

"My manager," Logan peeks over his shoulder, "Astrid Marina."

"Oh you've gotta be--" Lando starts but Olivia's shoving her phone in my hands. And I'm reminded of the time Lando had called her the 'most aggressive Piastri' at a bar during Monaco's weekend as he darts forward but not before Olivia delivers a strong backhand to Astrid.

"You fucking bitch! They're not your little PR playthings!" Olivia screams and Lando grabs her arm, pulling her back as she keeps shouting, "I should've made sure no fucking team ever hired you again but I didn't think anyone was that level of stupid!"

Logan and I share a confused look. How the fuck does Olivia know Astrid and what the hell did Astrid do to her?

“She’s Astrid?!” Charles shouts, “what the fuck?”

“Why do you all know her!” Logan shouts and the room goes quiet. Olivia's mouth gapes, but it's interrupted by a few stewards entering the garage to see what's happening. My headache flares and I grip Logan's arm when everyone starts shouting over each other and he escorts me outside where it's a bit colder and a lot quieter.

"I-I don't understand." I eventually choke out, and Logan wraps me tight in his arms. Soft kisses are pressed to my head as he coaxes me to sit with him on the ground outside Ferrari.

And when a steward approaches us, and he sits with us, I wish I could be surprised by the fact we're being interrogated.

But yet, I'm not surprised.

f1

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f1: FIA Statement on the investigation of @ scuderiaferrari .

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[spookyquill]

The Thorns in My Soul are For You

Description: a Hanahaki Disease AU, Reader is in love with Dazai and has been for a long while. They were in the port mafia but they left with Dazai

Word Count: 2208

Part 3

Previous Part |

TW: Blood, mentions of sickness, coughing up stomach contents, hospital scene

~~

During the course of a few weeks, things turned from bad to worse. You had been keeping track of the news, seeing more and more vampire sightings along with updates of political meetings. You had to disguise yourself every time you stepped out in public, there were a couple close calls with police and other official authorities. You even had a few encounters with vampires. 

Everything had taken a toll on you, much earlier than you’d like to admit. A few nights had been spent crying yourself to sleep or not sleeping at was a more popular outcome. All the running and the emotional breakdowns were not helped at all by the disease growing in your lungs. In fact, it made the disease grow stronger, rendering you weaker by the day. 

Petals exploded on the ground, accompanied by their stems and fully grown flowers, soaked in your blood. Another painful cough hacked it’s way out of your system, ejecting even more fully bloomed flowers onto the floor. You’d have to leave this place within the next few hours if you were to escape authorities. Thankfully, you planned to leave within the next few moments. 

You were too weak to run, too loud to hide anymore. The inevitability of your capture was approaching. You stopped going out a few days ago, your stomach growled in hunger and your body longed for water. Everything in your body ached, your chest aching the worst of all. But despite all the pain, you would rather die than be caught by vampires or police. But you wanted to make one last stop before you were to die. 

You had travelled back to Yokohama, it had taken you a while, but you managed to sneak by everything. 

Throwing the hood over your head to better hide your identity, you ventured out of the rundown building you claimed as your final home. It wasn’t far from your destination, but it still took you 20 minutes to get to the cemetery. 

The leaves rustled in the wind, almost like they were excited to see you after months of no visits. You clambered up the stone steps, quietly approaching the one lone gravestone beneath a large tree. 

“Hi Odasaku. Long time no see.” Your voice was quiet, not by choice as you began to feel the itchiness of another coughing fit brewing. 

“Sorry I’ve been gone so long, I had to keep a low profile for a while. But now I’m here again. I can’t keep running anymore. The vines are digging in, even now as I’m standing here I can feel them growing deeper into my lungs.” You take a moment to breathe. “I don’t have long left, I’ll be seeing you personally soon. Maybe we can play chess again, I’ve gotten better since the last time we played. I’m sure I have a chance against you.”

Your mind begins to wander, flashbacks of the past coming to the forefront of your mind. 

Moments where Odasaku laughed with you as you swapped out Chuuyas wine for blackcurrant juice. Times where you took a stroll along the beach with him, catching up after a long mission away. You remember the training he gave you, where you first beat him after years of it. That was the only chance you had at beating him. Times where Dazai -

Dazai. 

You haven’t seen him in so long. Last you heard of him he had been captured by the hunting dogs and was being held in a highly secured prison. 

You weren’t going to get the chance to say goodbye to him. You’d never be able to tell him how you really felt, and you had no way to write it down either. You were going to die without saying anything to him or leaving him with anything. Or perhaps he thought you already were? Maybe he does think you’re dead. That’s why no one tried finding you and bringing you back. You’d leave no trace of yourself in this world. You’d be a memory for those who cared, which were limited. 

This spiral of thoughts caused your breathing to increase, triggering the violent reaction your lungs had been cooking up. 

You couldn’t breathe in. All you could do was cough and choke, barely a sound left you. Your vision blurred, red spotting the once grey slate in front of you. You collapsed on the ground, convulsing with each cough that forced its way out of you. Vines were spilling out your mouth, a few of them accompanied by thorns which shredded your throat. 

You were dying. Right now. 

Your final resting place would be that of your best friend. At least Dazai wouldn’t have to go to separate places to mourn. 

You laid on your back, giving in to the fact that breathing in was no longer an option. Instead you opted to wait out the seconds as your brain shut down. 

Everything hurt. But it wasn’t painful. It was… numb. Peaceful. 

Your eyes grew heavy, unable to stay open any longer. 

As you closed them, you saw a figure slide into your vision before it finally blacked out.  

~•~

Everything felt heavy. Your eyes, your hands, your chest, your mind. 

Were you alive? You had no idea, you couldn’t open your eyes or even feel anything. It was like you were submerged in water, forcing you into a senseless pit. 

But your ears were still working, sounds filtered through them. It took you a while but you finally managed to decipher them. A conversation was taking place near you, and you recognised their voices almost instantly.

“She nearly died, asshole!” Chuuya sounds furious. “You are one of the smartest people I know yet you were so fucking dumb to not open your fucking eyes! Dazai they could’ve died!” Dazai? He’s here? But what’s Chuuya talking about? “They stopped breathing. Their heart stopped beating! It’s a fucking miracle the doctors managed to bring them back, but they cannot do it a second time.”

“I thought I had more time.” Dazai sounded hurt, his voice soft. But despite that, he was closer to you then Chuuya was. “I thought I could wait until all this was over.”

“That isn’t how the disease works and you know it! It doesn’t wait for the right time, we’re lucky as hell that they managed to survive with it for so long!!” Chuuya was really mad. “They almost died! Is that the moment you were waiting for?!”

Silence subdued the moment before Dazai whispered his response. “No.”

“Did you think you could waltz up to their grave and confess to them? Hoping that would be enough?” 

Dazai didn’t respond to that. 

“You need to grow your fucking balls and answer the god damn question.” There was silence for a few seconds. “Do you love them?”

The air was suffocating now, suspension hanging on tightly within the room. You could hear your heart beating through your ears. The feeling of a heavy weight seemed to press into you, the suspension dragging on.

Until…

“I do. I love them.”

In the span of three seconds, everything happened.

You felt shock ripple through your system, practically vibrating your body. Your lungs ceased and seemed to convulse into itself, forcing you to splutter out thick liquid. But something was in the way. Your eyes remained closed as your body shook with each strangled cough you let out, blood and roses struggling to get past the intubation tube.

Voices shouted over you saying things that you couldn't quite catch, still muffled due to the shock. Hands were on your body, keeping you still as more were felt at your head.

It was so much. The hands, the tube, the coughing, the mixture of pain and relief. You lost consciousness again.

When you regained your awareness, your body felt lighter, at ease. For a moment, you thought you were dead. But you managed to open your eyes, noting how light they now felt.

White tiled walls. Machines accompanied by wires and tubes. Bed railing on one side. Everything seemed plain and simple for a hospital.

You took a few deep breaths-

Wait.

You breathed in again, air flowing freely within you. You could breathe clearly now. No more breathing through what felt like a blocked up vent. The flowers were no more!

Relief washed over you, a smile carving its way onto your face. You could almost cry.

The sound of slight shuffling startled you. Your gaze shifted to your left, only now taking into account the fact that you were sitting up slightly, bed raised to support you. Dazai rested his head on the bed, one arm being used as a pillow while his other hand held onto yours. 

You stared at your hands, his tightly gripped one against your slack one. His hand felt warm. At least warmer than yours. You could tell by the dark circles under his eyes and the sunken features of his face that he hadn’t been taking care of himself. His usual fit was swapped out for a loose fitting jumper, making him appear smaller, along with a pair of track pants. He looked so rugged and tired, different to his typical cheerful demeanour he danced around with. Even his hand looked more skeletal than it should be. 

Taking a slow breath, you tighten your grip, allowing your fingers to smoothly rest between his. It felt like the final pieces of the puzzle were coming together. 

Dazai twitched, startling you. You wanted to pull your hand away from his, but he stopped you.

Brown eyes opened, lazily looking at yours. You could practically see his brain processing everything. He suddenly sat up, eyes wide and mouth agape. 

“(Y/n)?” His voice was hoarse, most likely from having just woken up from his slumber.

“Dazai?” Your own voice was rough, but you chose to ignore it.

Dazai surged forward, swiftly removing his hand from yours, instead wrapping both his arms around you, bringing you into his chest.

You whimpered in his arms, overwhelmed by a rush of emotions. He is here, holding onto you for life. You encircle your arms around his waist, noting how skinny and fragile he felt compared to usual. 

Tears flowed down your cheeks silently, soaking into the beige jumper Dazai is wearing. 

“I’m so sorry (Y/n), I should’ve said something sooner. It’s my fault you ended up like this.”

For a moment you're confused. But then everything catches up to you. Wriggling out of his arms, you look up at him, his features dulled by malnutrition. Your hands come up to rest on his cheeks, thumbs gently stroking away his own tears that had flowed from his eyes. 

“It’s not your fault. I’m okay now. I’m here.” Dazai can only nod, more tears escaping. “Did you really mean what you said? About liking me?”

Dazai stares at you for a moment, his brown eyes flickering between yours. The next moment, his lips are on yours. They meld perfectly together, moving in sync with no rush in movement. 

“Fucking finally. Only took you three years to grow some balls.”

You detach from each other, turning to look at Chuuya. A smile spreads across your face. “Hi Chuuya.”

Chuuya scowls. “Don’t just ‘hi Chuuya’ me. You gave me the biggest fucking panic. Do you know how terrifying it is to watch your friend vomit and cough up their lungs and collapse in the middle of the street?!” You frown, leaning your head against Dazai’s chest. “Whatever. I’m glad you two are finally together after dancing around each other for so long.” He walks up to you and drops a plastic bag full of food at your feet. “Doctor says you need to eat to replenish your energy. Your body is still getting rid of the disease so it will take a couple of days to do so, and that means you need to keep up your food. Mackerel you need to eat as well. You look like a sack of bones.”

“Aww does chibi miss me?” Dazai quips back with a smile. It’s good to see their usual banter return. It feels like the entire dynamic between the three of you has returned after so long. 

Chuuya scoffs, but you don’t miss and quirk in his lips as he turns away. “Whatever. Just eat all the damn food.” He closes the door behind him, leaving you and Dazai alone once again. 

Dazai pulls away from you, grabbing the nearby chair to take his seat, but your hand on his arm stops him. He looks up at you. 

“Sit with me?” You say with a smile before shuffling across the bed, making room for Dazai. 

“Are you sure?” When you reply with a nod, he slowly climbs into the bed next to you, grabbing the bag of food before adjusting the bed angle so you two can comfortably lean back and eat. 

The next couple of days are spent like that. Sleeping together in the one bed, eating bags of food that Chuuya brings alongside the ADA, and talking about mundane topics. 

When you are finally discharged from the hospital, you and Dazai walk out the door, hands intertwined with each other. 

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #dazai osamu #dazai x reader #bsd dazai #dazai osamu x reader

[crazyinluvfix]

PROLOGUE

FATAL ATTRACTION - a stiles stilinski story

summary: Sera Salvatore moved to Beacon Hills for a break from the supernatural. But her life was once again turned upside down when she and her two best friends get thrown head first into a world of werewolves and mystery. But it’s hard for her to protect her friends when a single werewolf bite is what could kill her for good…

WARNINGS: mentions of blood

a/n: this is just the intro ! future parts will be longer, that’s where the story really begins ;)

1.8k words

┌──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────┐

Beacon Hills was supposed to be a sanctuary from all things supernatural.

After what felt like over a century (because it was), Sera Salvatore needed a break.

Which was admittedly a little hypocritical considering she herself was a vampire, but she was desperate for an escape from all the drama and chaos that her family - namely her brothers - had brought to Mystic Falls. So she decided to start afresh, again.

After only one year of living back in her hometown, she picked up and went to the furthest most point in the continental United States, which just so happened to land her here. From Georgia, all the way to sunny California. It would be a nice change.

She was fortunate enough that she could pass as quite young whenever she settled in a new place. With the help of makeup, clothing, and a healthy amount of dishonesty she managed to blend into freshman year at Beacon Hills High without anyone even batting an eye.

It was now one year ago today that she had started her first day, which turned out to be a breeze.

~

January 3rd, 2010

“You’re humiliating,” I expressed my annoyance flatly as I stood by the door, waiting for my brother to let go of my jacket that he had been straightening before I left the house.

He patted my shoulder with a motherly smile as if he was sending his child off to kindergarten, then took a step back to play the role further.

“Have you got everything?” he asked as he nodded to my bag.

I let out a breathy chuckle. I didn’t hate him as much as I let on… mostly.

“I packed you a blood bag for lunch,” he continued, that smirk of his right at home on his smug face - never a dull moment.

My hand reached for my keys on the side table as I walked backward towards the door, shaking my head to stop my lips from forming a smile of their own. “How thoughtful,” I retorted sarcastically.

But just as I was about to step outside I stopped to say one last thing, “Thanks for helping me move in and all,” my tone was much more genuine than it typically was when speaking to him, but I really was grateful.

Moving across the country would’ve been infinitely harder without his company on the road, and without being able to play the little sister card and sit back while he does the heavy lifting. But… and I would never admit it… but even now, starting a new school was just as scary as it always has been and a part of me liked that I had my big brother there to see me off.

I quickly cut our sappy little chat short with another comment, “But, I expect you to be gone when I get home.” I arched an eyebrow and pointed a finger at him.

He was definitely the fun brother, but with fun comes impulsivity - a trait that must be genetic, and must have skipped my twin - and with impulsivity comes a long string of ‘animal attacks’. And that was exactly the drama in question that I wanted to escape, so I had brought along a surplus of blood bags to hold me until I found a more permanent solution.

He held his hands up in surrender, “I’ll be out within the hour.”

“Okay. I’ll see ya,” I said finally as I stepped outside, hiding from the brisk winter cold in the confines of my leather jacket.

My words were met with another smile and a nod from my brother before he spoke again. “Tell me how it went when you’re home.” The protective mother was back. But this time, it wasn’t just a joke, he was lucky we had no witnesses since he’d hate to ruin his tough-guy persona.

I almost laughed at him again, but I didn’t. As humans me and my brothers were incredibly close, but over time that faded. Me and our other brother never really settled that, but over the past year back in Mystic Falls me and the eldest fell back into old patterns.

“I will,” I gave in with a joking eye-roll. “Bye Damon,” I waved his way.

“Bye Seffie,” he returned, getting a kick out of my suddenly sour face.

Seffie. A nickname he saddled me with at the age of 4 and has stuck with me ever since. But my real name was a mouthful, so I chose to go by Sera - a fact Damon will insist on disregarding for the rest of our eternal lives.

As I walked away my once friendly hand gesture turned into a middle finger as I heard him laugh behind me and shut the door as I made my way to my new school.

~

The moment I stepped foot in the doors I noticed some heads turn, some overheard whispers from passers-by that fuelled my ego just that bit more as I walked up to reception and signed in.

First-period English went smoothly, then it was History which ironically was focused on the confederacy (not me and my siblings' proudest fight). And it was safe to say the teacher was thoroughly impressed with my knowledge on the subject, little did he know I quite literally lived it.

But after class was when my day took a turn.

“1076, 1076,” I repeated under my breath as I went to scour the halls for my new locker, but the break rush made my search all the more difficult with what felt like a million people charging around.

But finally, I seemed to be in luck as I read the numbers to my right; 1080, 1079, 1078, 1077, and…

Crash.

I took a deep breath and a frustrated sigh at the smug-faced, blond jock who had just practically booked it into my side, knocking all of my books out of my hands, and causing me to jump at the deafening sound of them hitting the tile floor. ‘Great,’ I thought satirically. The prick didn’t even bother to look back! Let alone be kind enough to help me pick them back up again.

But someone else did. In fact, two other boys seemed to have played witness and immediately came scrambling up to my side.

“Hey, uh-” the one with darker features and a crooked jawline, giving him a somewhat goofy smile stuttered, stopping after his friend who stood politely next to him not-so-subtly jabbed him in the side with his elbow, causing him to bring a hand to it and shoot his friend a glare.

“What he meant to say was, do you want a hand with that?” The slightly taller friend with the buzzed brown hair asked after his friend's failure to do so.

I could do nothing but laugh slightly at both of their clear excitement and reply with a smile, “I’d love one.”

Picking up books was a simple task that I most definitely could’ve done myself in probably half the time, but nothing compared to watching them both drop to the floor and bat at each other's hands in a frantic competition to ‘help the most.’ My smile grew wider and I brought a hand up to rest on my forehead. This was already a refreshing change since none of the boys back home would have ever done the same.

Soon, they both stood back up in front of me, proud looks on both of their faces as they put the books in my open locker for me.

“Thank you,” I chuckled in response.

“No problem,” the more hyper one added before quickly speaking again at a constant, lightning pace. “I’m Stiles, by the way,” he gestured to himself, “and this is my buddy, Scott,” his hand moved over to pat the other boy on the shoulder.

“Nice to meet you, Stiles and Scott,” I nodded back at them, still trying to bite back an amused grin, “I’m Sera.”

“You’re new here right?” Scott spoke again with an innocent look of pure curiosity.

I put my hands together behind my back and rocked on my heels slightly, “Mhm, started this morning,” a somewhat nervous chuckle left my lips, which the one called Stiles seemed to pick up on because he quickly interjected.

“I mean, we’d be happy to show you ‘round if you wanna hang with us,” he offered, a hopeful shrug on his shoulders and a pout on his lips.

“Wouldn’t we, Scott,” he then batted the back of his hand against his friend’s arm, glaring at him to respond.

Scott quickly blinked and nodded rapidly, “Oh, yeah, of course.”

I bit my lip in contemplation, they did seem awfully nice. “I’d love to, but I’ve gotta go to the office quickly, but maybe I’ll catch up with you guys later,” my counter seemed to be accepted without a second thought as I studied their expressions.

When I stepped backward I noticed how they didn’t leave just yet, so I said, “Bye boys, I’ll see you around,” with a small wiggle of my fingers as a wave.

“See you around, Sera,” Stiles repeated as he and Scott both mimicked my step back, his hand raising up to do a little salute before we turned our backs to each other.

I could not help the quiet giggle that escaped my mouth after I was out of their eyeline, but I also could not help but hear what they were saying to each other down the hall.

“Why the fuck did you salute?” Scott whispered, hitting Stiles back in retaliation for earlier.

“I- I don’t know, okay?” Stiles replied slightly panicked.

My smile grew. What idiots.

As for the conversation with the receptionist, it went smoothly with a little help from my immaculate ‘people skills’.

“I’m sorry but we insist on transcripts. And your immunisation records seem to be missing,” the lady said, peering over her glasses as she looked through my files.

My sigh was followed by me leaning forward, looking into her eyes as I watched her pupils dilate - she just had to make this more difficult.

“Please look again, I’m sure you’ll find everything you’re looking for.” A proud smirk laced my lips as she did exactly that, nodding and sending me on my way. Too easy.

During lunch, I did end up joining the boys at their table, taking a seat next to Stiles and definitely not missing the wide-eyed look he gave to Scott, along with his stuttered breath as I leaned over him to reach my pen that had rolled across the table.

The portrayal of vampires in Twilight had always annoyed me due to its incredible inaccuracy, but it was beyond amusing how easy it was for me to read their minds, even without special powers.

~

That day had ended with new numbers in everyone’s phones and Sera scoring a new ride to school and back every day in her new friend’s beaten-up old Jeep (which she thought had enough charm to distract from the deafening sound it made when running).

And from that moment forward, the three were inseparable.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

hope you enjoyed !

this was basically to just tell you what to expect from the rest of the series. might not post it all on here unless you want me to so check out my ao3 and wattpad ( @crazyinluvfix ) like and comment x

└──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────┘

#stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski x reader #teen wolf #fic #fluff #angst #smut #x oc #crossover au #the vampire diaries #tvd #salvatore #damon salvatore #stefan salvatore #scott mccall #derek hale #derek hale x reader #klaus mikaelson #the originals #vampire #werewolf #supernatural

[peony-writes]

Searching for shadows

Paring - Trafalgar Law x GN reader

Genre - Angst

Word count- 987

“Why me?” The words tumbled from my lips as I sat alone on the cold empty bed in the captain quarters of the Polar Tang. Law had stormed out earlier cursing me for being in the way yet again. I had only wanted to be close to him. The pretext of our relationship was shattering all around me.

I knew Law would never love me, but it still hurt. It sat heavy in my chest, a heavy feeling of loneliness. The gruff man said there was no room in his heart for anything other than his studies of medicine. I wish he’d tell me why he took me off that island in the first place. I thought after our months of sleeping in the same bed he really would love me; but that wasn’t the case. Even his small displays of affection had dissipated into thin air as of a month ago. I had no clue what made him this way. He avoided me like the plague, often sleeping on the common room’s couch at night and locking himself in his office during the day.

He was at least kind to me before, kissing me willingly and he seemed as though he took pride in having me in his bed. But now he’s as cold as the snow of my home island. He just pulled away from me suddenly one day and I couldn’t stop it. There were no warning signs, and I was left to fester in my emotions alone. Bepo was concerned for me as the yelling got louder and more frequent. I sat alone starting to cry when a soft knock sounded at the door. I got up and fixed a crooked grin on my lips as I answered the door only to be smushed into Bepo’s chest.

“Bepo? What are you doing here?” I mussed “I was worried about you! I heard you and the captain yelling again”. I pulled away from Bepo looking behind him into the hallway. “Did he go to his office? I have some things I need to ask him”. This was it; I was done. Done being alone even with the support of the crew, I refused to be treated as less than nothing. I pushed back the white mass of fur and marched down to Law’s office. Bepo tried to stop me once or twice before Shachi pulled him away. Shaking his head at the oversized mink signaling it was futile to try to stop me now.

I gave a sharp knock on Law’s office door and heard a deep groan of annoyance greet me on the other side. Shortly after some shuffling and grumbling, Law opened the door. He seemed surprised to see me, but it was gone just as fast as it had appeared. I shoved past him into his office before he could inevitably tell me to go away. “Why have you been so cold to me Law?” The tears were streaming down my face again. If Law had any reaction, he gave no sign of it. But the truth was Law was drowning from the inside out, his lungs filling with feelings left unspoken. His actions were meant to drive you away. Yet you stubbornly stayed, peacefully taking his actions with a saints patience but now you were questioning him. Why was he doing this?

Why was he pulling away after warming up to you? You’d never know. “Do you not love me anymore Law?” I spoke, my voice rising with weeks of calmly concealed contempt. “Tell me Law, spare me please”. I hit my fists against his chest, his face clouded with a dark look of arrogance as he pushed my hands away. “I never loved you; I was using you for my bodily needs” I froze, his tone was like the polar ice caps, I let out a chocked sob then rubbing my face clean of tears looking at him with all the anger I could muster.

“I can’t believe you’d admit that but there’s one thing I can assure you Law” I walked up to him my mouth beside his ear “I’m leaving your sorry ass and this damn submarine”. Law was shocked to say the least, your voice had flowed into his veins, a deadly incurable poison filled with anger. You left after that, shoving him away as if his presence were now a stain on you. When he came back to his quarters that night hoping to resolve things with you, your belongings were gone and so were you. He wanted to tell you the truth, the real reason he pulled away from you so suddenly… however, he was not offered that choice.

The next morning they made landfall at a small port island with a bustling town of market stalls. Once the polar tang had surfaced you found yourself surrounded by all your crew mates, who were crying and asking if you were sure about leaving. The last to show up was Law. He stayed to the back of the group hoping to grab your attention, call your bluff… But all he got was a glance and a scoff. The realization was startling for Law. You were leaving… this was it… this was the last time he’d see you.

I gave my crewmates their hugs as Bepo, Penguin, and Shachi tried convincing me to stay, but my mind was made up; I was leaving and that was it. I gave Law one last glance before turning and walking down the ramp, not looking back once. Law’s heart was shattering. He loved you but was too scared of his feelings. With one last look at you before you disappeared into the crowds he muttered a single sentence, one that could have made you stay had he uttered it sooner, but it was too late now as a stray tear slid down his face he whispered. “I love you”

#one piece #one piece oneshots #one piece x reader #one piece angst #trafalgar one piece #law one piece #one piece x gn reader #trafalgar d law x reader #law x reader #trafalgar law one piece #trafalgar law #law op

[dragonbe-writing]

Fallen Feathers (Pt. 2)

Fantasy AU ft. Knight! John Price

Summary: Price does his research, trying to find his monster. What he finds instead could change the trajectory of his life...

(Part 1 Here)

Word Count: 1.5k

Author's Note: Hello! Sorry it's been over a month since part 1- I am mentally ill and in college. I'm not super happy with this part, but it's necessary to kick this story into high gear. Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

John walked through the streets of Edriel, smiling at people as he did. He was headed to the eastern side of town, a place he didn’t visit often. He was originally from the east, but his parents had moved him north- towards the castle -when he was a young boy. 

He headed over to the square, making friendly conversation with merchants, playing with some of the children. But that’s not why he was here. 

Truth be told, this wasn’t even his jurisdiction. He patrolled the west more often than not. But his eyes settled on a frail old woman, selling her pastries. He smiled. 

“Mrs. Dresel,” he greeted, tipping his head. “Good to see you again.” 

“Oh, Johnny!” she said, her voice crackly and high but oh so sweet. He grimaced at the name, but made no remark- just settling on a polite smile. “I haven’t seen you in ages! Look how big you are!” 

“Yes, I have gotten quite big,” he said, looking at her array of pastries. His eyes landed on two rolled buns- stuffed with strawberry jam and drizzled with honey. He fished through the pocket of his trousers. “How much for two?” 

“10 Den,” she said, wrapping the two up for him. “I have a feeling you aren’t just here for the pastries, Johnny,” she said, giving him a knowing smirk. He sighed, shaking his head and clicking his tongue.

“No, ma’am, I’m not,” he admitted, handing her the Den and taking the pastries. “I was wondering- do you remember a fire in this side of town?” he asked her. 

“A fire?” she repeated, looking up as she thought. She scratched her head, getting flakes of pastry in her graying hair. 

He pressed further. “One that left a girl badly burned.”

“Oh, heavens no,” she said with a wave of her wrinkly hand. “No, we haven’t had anything like that. Why?” 

John smiled politely. “Just Knight business, ma’am. Don’t be concerned. Have a good day, Mrs. Dresel,” he said, tipping his head again before heading off down the street. 

He huffed, stuffing the pastries in his pocket. He knew it- there hadn’t been a fire, at least not here. Still, he best check the logs. 

It didn’t make sense. Why would she lie? Why wouldn’t she want to be seen? He wasn’t there to arrest her- though, maybe he should be. 

~~~~~

John rubbed his eyes, strained and tired. He’d been reading old logs for hours, faded handwriting lit only by the candle burning next to him. 

This is ridiculous. 

He had a monster to catch- one that he had no description for. That’s what he should be searching for- not some woman in the woods. 

Perhaps she was mad. That could explain it. 

But she didn’t sound mad. She sounded like any other villager. And even she recognized the absurdity of the King’s goose chase. 

“Oi!”

Another Knight banged on the table he was at, pulling John from his thoughts. He jumped, color rising to his cheeks as he rolled his eyes. 

“What the hell do you want, Smith?” he grumbled, setting the log book down. 

Smith grinned, sitting on the table. “Just wanted to see how your monster hunt was going,” he replied with a snicker. 

John glared at him. “About as well as you’d think, given no direction.” 

“I heard it’s a crow,” Smith started, boyish grin growing larger. “Big, black wings, sharp talons- sharper than your sword. Ugly thing, supposedly.” 

“And where’d you hear that?” he asked, voice gruff with annoyance. 

“Rumors from when I was just a lad,” he said, hopping off the desk to pace. “Mum used to call it a fallen angel- swore she saw it once, in the dead of night.” 

John resisted the urge to roll his eyes again. She ran a hand through his beard, scratching at the skin. “Right. Well, if I see it, I’ll tell you,” he said in a grumble. 

Smith clicked his tongue. “Atta boy. Now- what the hell are you doing with the old logs?”

“You should learn to mind your business,” Price snapped, earning an amused chuckle from Smith. 

“Oh, I see.”

“See what?” 

Smith just grinned. “Is this for a maiden?”

Price froze. He felt his cheeks warm up- though he chalked it up to annoyance. “…yes. But not in that way-“

“In what way, then?” he asked cheekily. 

“None of your concern-“

“Price’s got a little lady!” he exclaimed. 

“I do not-“

“Who would’ve ever thought? You finally settling down-“

“Fuck off, Smith,” Price finally growled, slamming the log book shut and looking up at him angrily. 

Smith, already halfway out the door, replied, “Night, Price~!” 

The door closed, and John was alone again. He closed his eyes, leaning back in his chair. A crow? A fallen angel? Smith was known for his stories, that’s for sure. 

“Ridiculous,” he muttered, blowing out the candle and heading to his quarters. 

~~~~

The next morning, he hopped on Obsidian and headed back out to the woods. He knocked on her door once more. “Miss Adelaide?” he called gruffly. 

“Hang on!” she called back. He heard the curtain close. “Come in!” 

John opened the door, walking into the dark house once more. It smelled wonderful- whatever stew she had over the fire made him realize he had skipped breakfast. 

“What has you out here again?” she asked him, back in her corner.  

“You,” he replied, pulling something wrapped in cloth from his pocket. “I-“ he stopped, a sudden sense of nervousness filling him. He cleared his throat. “I brought you some of Mrs. Dresel’s pastries,” he admitted, growing a bit sheepish. His face flooded with warmth. 

“…you did?” she asked quietly. He nodded. 

“If you don’t want them, I won’t be upset-“

“No, I do want them,” she said, sounding surprised. He realized she wouldn’t come get them, and he set them on her table. 

“Well- good.” 

A hush fell over them, a bit tense. He looked around her home, and cleared his throat again. “Uh- seen any monsters?” he asked. 

She laughed a little. “No, I haven’t,” she replied. He nodded. 

“Me either,” he grumbled, shoulders relaxing a bit. She snorted. 

“The King’s lost it,” she murmured, and John sighed. He didn’t correct her, or warn her. He just silently agreed. 

“I had a fellow knight tell me that he believes it’s a crow,” he said, glancing at her house again. 

“A crow?” she asked in a high pitched laugh. He wasn’t quite sure what was funny, but he didn’t comment. 

“Yes. Big black wings, talons. Apparently,” he said, looking back to her corner. 

“Sounds hideous,” she commented, and he heard her shift. 

“It sounds fake,” he replied, rolling his eyes. “It’s ridiculous. I’ve served under the King for fifteen years, and he-“ John’s hands balled up into fist, and he took a breath to calm down. He looked out the door, eyes on the leaves trembling in the wind. “I apologize,” he said softly to her, looking back to her corner. 

“It’s alright. You aren’t the first Knight I’ve seen angry,” she said shortly. 

John’s brain was swimming. Should he ask? It would be rude- and he really didn’t want to arrest her. But Knights aren’t rude or angry for no reason. 

“…what do you mean by that?” he finally asked, hand absentmindedly drifting to the hilt of his sword. He could almost feel the blanket of discomfort wrap around them. 

She was silent. He heard her huff- he could just imagine her rolling her eyes. “You people tend to have quite the temper,” she remarked. 

“Only if provoked,” he replied. 

“Only if afraid-“

“Knights are not afraid.”

“Call it stupidity, then,” she snapped. 

“Watch your mouth, Adelaide,” he boomed, stepping towards her dark corner. He heard the rustling of her shifting. 

Silence. 

He rolled his eyes at himself, moving his hand away from his sword. He let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “…I apologize, ma’am, I didn’t intend-“

His eyes caught something in the corner of her home. A couple large, black feathers. He froze, heartbeat shooting up to his ears and brain working double time. 

“…I found them outside, I thought I could use them to stuff my pillow-“

“Reveal yourself.”

A beat. 

“…excuse me?” she asked in a shaking voice. 

“I said: Reveal yourself,” he demanded again, hand moving back to the hilt of his sword. He glared into her corner, heart racing. 

“…John, you know I am burned-“

“In a fire that never happened?” he snapped, drawing his sword with a haunting ring.

“John-“ she pleaded.

“Do not make me repeat myself.” 

She fell silent again. Slowly, she pulled back the curtains. 

Light flooded the room, making him blink in surprise. When he finally saw her, his jaw dropped. Piercing black eyes stared back at him, full of sorrow. Two big black wings folded behind her back, sharp talons on the ends of her black fingers, and a beak-like nose adorned her features. Her skin was smoky along the edges of her hairline and small black dots littered her skin. 

John staggered backwards, faltering for a moment before putting his sword back up. Adelaide wasn’t a woman- she was a monster. His monster- the one he was sent to kill. His arm shook. He swallowed. Stepping towards her with a hateful look in his eyes. 

She looked up at him with those dark eyes, exhausted and knowing. “Can I eat my pastry before you kill me?”

Taglist:

#fallen feathers #knight!johnprice #knight!price #call of duty #captain price #john price #captain john price #cod mw22 #writing #fanfic #cod #cod fanfic #cod mw2

[blazinghotfoggynights]

It is totally possible to be a Buddie endgamer AND still support Buck/Tommy. It's possible to never be shaken from your stance as Buck and Eddie being soulmates while supporting every relationship they have been in, regardless of how dysfunctional it was.

Here's my take:

I want to see both Buck and Eddie explore life and find their true paths independently of each other, Christopher, and the 118. They are more than just each other's best friend/coparent, Christopher's fathers, and firefighters/part of the 118 family.

Since we know there is a season 8, and I would guess a season 9+ if these ratings keep up, it would be awesome to watch a full season, or more, of character evolution. We could watch Buck dating both men and women openly, learning his value, and discovering what he wants for his future.

Buck, as Bobby pointed out, doesn't enter into relationships of his own accord. He stumbles and falls into them without a clue how he got there. One day, he wakes up and he's someone's boyfriend or living with someone and isn't sure how it happened. Buck simply goes wherever someone will accept him. He misconstrues that acceptance and tolerance as genuine romance, feelings, and love.

Abby was bored and lonely and horny. I could say a lot about that relationship. If the motivation strikes, I may post about how that relationship was toxic and manipulative on Abby's part. If there are any Abby fans, you need to know your girl was showing some tendencies that were red flags.

Ali? Buck was single. She showed interest. That's it.

Taylor? Great sex and she kept coming back to Buck. She was there for all the wrong reasons and had questionable morals, but she was there. That was enough for Buck.

Natalia, again, was simply in front of Buck. She was obviously only interested in Buck's death, not Buck as a person, but Buck didn't care. He tried to make it work anyway because Natalia gave him time and attention.

So, we have an established pattern of Buck dating whoever will give him the time of day when he needs it most.

Enter Tommy. Buck is feeling left out. He's probably slipping into loneliness and spiraling because he feels the most important person in his life for the last six years is being taken away from him. (That's Eddie, for those in the back.)

Tommy shows up, sees Buck is spiraling, and kisses him. (Tommy fans, canon has established that Tommy has bad guy capabilities. Stop trying to gaslight the fans who are saying he may not be the good guy his sudden fandom claims he is. He isn't and Hen and Chimney forgiving him doesn't change that. People who are capable of consciously being a-holes are just a-holes. Mmkay?) He doesn't just hit on Buck. He physically initiates contact, giving Buck no doubt the man is open to other men. He showed Buck attention in a moment of crisis and he's a safe option after Buck openly admitted he was jealous and trying to get attention.

Buck stumbles into the next relationship. (Again, I could examine that situation, but if I do, it will be in a separate post.)

The show could give us Eddie admitting he let the expectations and influences of third parties control his destiny and he has no idea who Edmundo Diaz really is outside of what was expected of him, what he was taught, and what he did out of a sense of duty instead of doing what he wanted to.

He was with Shannon because she was pregnant and the right thing to do, per their parents and his faith, was marry her. I think he loves her for giving him his son, but nothing he has ever said or done indicates he was in love with her. I think he thinks he was. I think he wanted to be.

He was with Ana because Christopher needed a mother, per what he was told and taught, and she had an impressive resume and knew Christopher.

He is with Marisol because she fits the perfect mold of what his parents would like and she gets along with Christopher.

Should we talk about Eddie's relationships timing up perfectly with when Buck enters a relationship? No?

That man has never once in six seasons made a believable statement about genuine attraction to or sexual enjoyment with women. Ladies and gentlemen, if you have straight male friends who are in their 20s or 30s, you know you will be subjected to more details about their sexual history than you ever wanted to know. (Many of my close friends historically have been straight men. Conversations with them have been interesting and eye-opening. Sometimes traumatic, too, but I knew what I signed up for when I became their friend.)

Eddie canonically is in his early 30s and has been on the screen since his late 20s, but went without sex for years, never seemed to miss it, and now he's suddenly "pent up"? That is not the whole story and there is more going on there.

I'd love to see Eddie figure out he isn't into Marisol and hasn't been into anyone genuinely, except maybe Shannon. There could easily be a demisexuality arc for Eddie. Keep in mind, the term demisexuality was coined less than 20 years ago and is still not widely known. Eddie could spend a season, or more, working through the feelings he's ignored or been unable to put into words, dealing with overbearing parents, and how his faith has quietly, and unbeknownst to him, guided his choices. He could spend a long time wondering why he never feels an instant connection with anyone, except Buck and Tommy. (You seeing a pattern here?) This season has openly pointed out Eddie is in therapy.

The road to Buddie can be filled with satisfying detours, aka other relationships, leading to the realizations that open their eyes to each other. We don't have to negate the Buck and Eddie's experiences with others to support Buddie.

The part of me that wants instant gratification would love to see Eddie and Buck dancing at Madney's wedding and figuring out they are what they have been looking for all along. Cut to them in a room going at it.

But, the part of me that loves a great story, and doesn't mind waiting if the writing is great, is fine with a slow burn that gives us deep storylines and episodes that grip you from beginning to end. Let's say we have the rest of season 7, season 8, and maybe a season 9. There would be so much possible material.

Buck could go through a relationship with Tommy, a breakup, confusion, dating again, multiple amazing conversations with LGBTQ characters like Hen, Karen. This would also allow for giving other characters more depth, backstory, and more time on-screen. (This would be an amazing time to bring back Rockmond Dunbar as Michael and have him and Buck discuss figuring your sexuality out later in life!)

Eddie could spend that time working through his Catholic guilt and separating his actual needs and desires from what he was taught to need and desire. He could realize he makes excuses to stay with the women he dates then finds an excuse to escape when being with those women gives him anxiety. He could begin questioning if he is gay, bi, pan, or what. Then he could ask himself why he never really gets to know the women he dates. Who has he been close to? What was different? What gives him a feeling of safety and security and home? He needs to figure himself out.

So, yes, I do believe Buck/Tommy is acceptable and I support it, just not as endgame. I think, if written well, it could be integral to a great growth plot that takes us through Eddie and Buck diverging on their paths to self-discovery only to converge later on, a little more scarred but more in tune with themselves, to see their future in each other.

#911 abc #911 on abc #9 1 1 buddie #buddie #buck x eddie #eddie x buck #buddie 911 #eddie diaz x evan buckley #evan buckley x eddie diaz #buck/tommy #911 tuck #eddie diaz #evan buckley #evan buck buckley #911 #911 show #911 season 7

[millie-multifics]

Though I Yearn • Part 5

Masters of the Air

Secret Admirer x Reader

A string of anonymous letters causes a stir at Thorpe Abbotts. Who could be the author of the tender correspondence you have been receiving?

Warnings: Gossip, mentions of death, mentions of cheating, singular use of a petname.

Word Count: ~1.3k

Masterlist Previous Next- Coming Soon!

x x x

After Douglass had made a big fuss, words of the letters had spread across Thorpe Abbotts like wild fire. Everyone was pointing their fingers at possible culprits, bringing the once quiet situation to absolute chaos. It had been weeks since a letter had arrived, the writer forced into hiding from the attention. The men had gone to Africa, their numbers dwindling on the journey, a few notable losses were Curt and Dickie. Replacements had arrived- you held such a hatred for that word.

You craved your own peace more and more as the days passed by. You had found a spot in the empty field passed the runways that was void of people, Lemmons crew left you alone.

“What are you doing out here?” Blakely’s boots crunced the weeds as he approached, his shadow blocking the sun from your eyes as they fluttered open.

“It’s usually quiet out here,” Your tone was teasing, “No questions, accusations or chatter. Just the birds, the breeze and occasionally the hum of a few planes. What are you doing out here?”

“You’ve got mail.”

You sat upright, brushing blades of grass from where they stuck to your dress. “New duty, Blakely?”

“You know you can call me Everett, I’d like to think we are friends of some sort.” He huffed as he handed over the mail. Three envelopes: one from home, one with a return adress of New York City and finally a new letter that was missing a return adress.

“Did Douglass send you out here? Since he is ever so concerned that he couldn’t help himself but to corner me in front of atleast half the company.”

“Carrier said they hadn’t seen you all day, entrusted me with your mail but you really ought to talk to Dougie, he feels terrible for bringing you attention like that.”

“I believe Lieutenant Dye’s celebration is underway, I thought you would be there?” You changed the subject, avoiding Blakely’s words just as you had been avoiding the man they were about.

“I’ll keep an eye out for you later on, save me a dance?”

You sent him a nod of agreement, waiting for him to be out of sight before turning your attention to the letters he had delivered.

You read the letter from home first, it was filled with the ususal wishes for your wellbeing and updates on events or gossip that you had missed. You did not recognize the loopy femine cursive on the envelope adressed from New York and it felt very thin between your fingertips. You open the flap, revealing only a single photograph inside. A man and woman in a busy street, he was handsome in his dress greens and she donned a plain yet elegant wedding gown… but it was not just a photograph of two strangers. Your fingertips gently ran over the mans face, absorbing his features as this was the first time you had set eyes on him since he had left you broken hearted on his porch not quite a year ago. There was a date written on the back of the picture, August 20 1943.

Despite the deep ache in your chest from the photograph, a spark of excitment filled you as you opened the third envelope. There had been a drought of letters from your Secret Admirer since the secret flooded the base, you had missed reading his words more than you had liked to admit.

“I did not intend to draw such attention and for that I must apologize. I have come to the conclusion if any of the men were to find out that these clandestine correspondence were written by me, I would be heckled for my aberrant ways. I am not perceived as a romantic, many see me to be brash and arrogent but since I met you I have been reformed. I feel a fool to be so cowardess with my affections while the possibility of death looms so heavily but I fear my mind over heart mentality will not crumble.”

Your mind spun, it was someone unexpected but who? With each letter you felt more more drawn to his words and your eagerness to discover the identity of the writer grew.

You clutched the recent letter and the photograph to your chest as you lay in the field, unbothered by the setting sun.

Hours had passed, the field had been swallowed by darkness but your body felt too heavy to move under the weight of the papers on your chest. The quiet yet rough trampling of the tall grass behind you alerted you to a new presence.

“If Blakely told you I was out here then he can find himself another dance partner.” You spoke loudly, nearly startling the man as he had not seen your silhoutte on the ground in the darkness, despite actively searching for you.

“That is a shame.”

The voice was unexpected, you honestly had expected it to be Douglass or DeMarco, maybe even Blakely with the intention of dragging you to the party but surely not Major Egan.

“Major, I thought you would be at Dye’s celebration?” Your eyes found his through the darkness as he now towered over you.

“I could say the same for you. Blakely mentioned you were out here earlier but when you failed to show at the party some of the men got worried. I volunteered to come check on you, I don’t think it’s safe to be out here in the dark like this.”

“I would hate to damper the celebration.”

“It got dampered anyway, sweetheart,” He moved to lay on the ground next to you, unbothered by any stains the grass may leave on his uniform, “By the men we have lost and the men we will lose.”

It was quiet for awhile, both enjoying the silent company of another person, unaware of the battling thoughts happening in the others brain. Your worries felt silly compared to his, he had lost friends and men under his command, you briefly wondered if he had volenteered to find you to escape the ghosts of them at the party.

It was silent for a moment before the Major spoke again, “The stars sure are pretty out here.”

Your eyes searched around the clouds, only a few bright stars visable in the dark of the night. “When they peek out of the clouds anyway.”

“Are you alright?”

The genuine concern in his question had taken you off guard. You took a second to debate how much you were willing to share with the Major as every aspect of your life had been previously aired, but remembered divulging a little to him before Dougie had brought attention. You handed the Major the photo you had recieved, glancing over as he angled it under the moonlight to see it clearly. “Before the war, it was all him, he was the one I would marry and bare my soul to. Suddenly everything changed, he had enlisted and just a week before our wedding I discovered that he was being unfaithful. I was foolishly willing to forgive him but he chose her, now they are married and I am here; my lonely soul wondering what is next for me, if my soulmate is out there somewhere or perhaps I am just unlucky and he won’t make it through this war so I shall forever be alone.”

You swallowed harshly, washing the thickness from your throat as your eyes burned looking up at the stars.

“What of your writer?” Egan returned the picture, his eyes scanning your face as the grass fanned your cheeks in the soft night breeze.

“How am I supposed to call someone mine if I don’t even know their name?” You sighed, heavily as if to lesson the weight, “I wish I could tell him that he makes the ache in my heart bearable.”

x x x

@jointherebellion215 @orchiidflwer

#masters of the air #mota fanfic #mota #mota spoilers #bucky egan #curtis biddick #apple tv #everett blakely #james douglass #john brady #major gale cleven #gale cleven #austin butler #john bucky egan #callum turner #major john bucky egan #major john egan

[violetasteracademic]

Golden Doe in a Valley of Shadow: Chapter Ten (Ao3 Azriel x Elain Fanfic)

I hope it is a lovely day wherever you are in the world! Chapter 10 of Golden Doe in a Valley of Shadow has just dropped, and as the namesake chapter it is SO friggin special to me! I will be sharing some amazing treats by @rae2velaris tomorrow that have been secretly at work for this chapter, and there will be much more to come after that! She has been doing some seriously incredible work and there have been tears. On my end.

If you are not caught up, you can find a master list of each chapter here. Link to the new chapter will be at the bottom of this post, as well as updated on the master list!

And now for our sneak peak!

Preview:

Elain

Elain could still hardly believe how the bodysuit looked and felt. Like it was perfectly crafted for her body and hers alone. Nuala and Cerridwen had helped her braid back her hair to keep it out of the way while she and Azriel did… well, whatever it was they were going to do. She really had no idea what it meant to explore the nature of power sharing. Nor did she know where she was going.

She turned and looked over her shoulder in the mirror one last time, taking in the upward curve of the faintly glowing feather barbs extending outward from her spine. Impenetrable Ascalaphus feathers. It was breathtakingly beautiful. And strong. She had run the sleeves directly over a lit candle. Nothing. The flame didn’t so much as leave a yellow stain behind.

It meant so much to her that Azriel had not thought less of her for the way she chose to approach fighting. He made her feel like… like her magic was enough. Her sight and the way she could wield the earth in her hands was enough. She did not need to be a High Lady or Valkyrie to be powerful. She and Azriel, with their new shared abilities, would be able to speak to each other in any confrontation. To give and take from each other, and work as a team. For one of the most feared warriors and spies in Prythian, she knew he would not make that decision lightly.

When she was ready, Nuala and Cerridwen shadow-walked her to the outskirts of Velaris. Azriel kept hidden beneath the loosely swaying tendrils of a willow tree. He was absolutely devastating in his leathers, the dark counterpart to her gold-trimmed light.

“We’ll be on alert all night if you need anything,” Cerridwen said quietly.

Azriel nodded his thanks before they disappeared and extended his arms to Elain. She stepped in close to him and gasped as he swept her up, cradling her to his chest as he so often did. “You ready?” He whispered into her ear.

She couldn’t help tilting her chin up to press her lips softly to his, sighing a bit before she replied, “Yes.”

His eyes danced, that beautiful grin reserved only for her gracing his full lips before they leapt into the skies.

She had flown with Azriel before, but it had been such a long time. And now that she had become so intimate with him, so addicted to his scent, it was as if the sky itself smelled like him. The night air and mist in the clouds, the cedar trees peppering the mountainside as they soared. It left her completely breathless.

Azriel had truly never looked so beautiful as he did when cloaked in moonlight. She reached up to cup his cheek, and she knew his shiver was from more than the cold as he leaned into her touch.

She nuzzled up against him and enjoyed the view as they flew. She had no idea where they were going. It saddened her to admit it, but she simply hadn’t seen as much of Prythian as her sisters had. She didn’t notice any change in courts as Azriel smoothly carried them on the wind. They only went over the mountains, an endless forest on the other side of them.

A small clearing revealed itself, a low valley amongst the trees. Night blooming jasmine clustered in lovely, wild patches. They almost seemed to glow under the light of the moon.

Elain was circling slowly, taking in every inch of the valley, when Azriel grabbed her by the waist and pressed her back into a nearby tree. Her mind quickly scrambled as Azriel slid his tongue along her bottom lip. She opened for him, and he gripped his hands around the backs of her thighs to hoist her off the ground. She wrapped her legs around him as their kiss became desperate and frantic, her hands running up his firm chest and through his hair. His tongue stroking her exactly how she liked it.

He pulled away, taking a few sharp breaths before lowering her back to the ground. “Sorry,” he panted. “I needed to do that just once before we got started. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to focus.”

“Mmm,” she murmured, her lips still ghosting his. “Very wise, shadowsinger.”

He stole one more deep, thorough kiss before releasing his grip on her.

“I thought the frenzy was something that only occurred with the mating bond? Since it’s for… well… mating.” Elain mused. She hadn’t expected it to happen to them. And now they could barely stand to be near each other for more than five seconds without being overwhelmed with the need to tear at each other’s clothes and press their bodies together.

“Orissa’s notes didn’t say anything about it. I mean, she might have left that part out but… I think— I think it might not be the carranam bond. I think it’s just us,” Azriel replied, his simmering gaze not fully cooled.

She had to shake her head to clear the fog of lust. It had been less than twenty-four hours and they had already had numerous, exceptionally thorough lovemaking sessions. But there were important matters at hand.

They needed to master what their unique bond could do. Prove to everyone that it was real, and hopefully somehow set a precedent for the rarity of what they had. Like her own powers, like the feathers of the Ascalaphus owl. Something forgotten, thought extinct, only to suddenly emerge. Something so deep and intrinsic, so interconnected between them that perhaps it would even trump a mating bond. She smiled at the thought.

“Shall we?” She grinned, and he did not let go of her hand as they walked to the center of the valley.

#elriel fanfic #spicy elriel fanfic #elriel fic #elriel #elain x azriel #pro elriel #elriel endgame

[karniss-bg3]

Salute, Larian Studios

Heya folks! It’s been a while, I hope everyone is doing well. I’m breaking my hiatus to discuss the recent announcement made by Larian Studios on their steam development blog. I will add the link here for those who wish to read the blog in its entirety but be warned, there are patch seven spoilers within. I wish to focus on a particular section in the final three paragraphs of the document, which reads as follows:

“Being given the chance to develop a game set in the Dungeons & Dragons universe has been a dream come true for all of us. But as Swen recently confirmed, we won't be introducing any major new narrative content to the story of Baldur's Gate 3 or its origin characters and companions, nor will we be making expansions or Baldur’s Gate 4. As an independent studio since 1996, we value the freedom to follow our creativity wherever it leads. In this case, after six years in the Forgotten Realms and much discussion and rumination, we’ve decided to seize this opportunity to develop our own IPs. We’re currently working on two new projects and we couldn’t be more excited about what the future has in store. It’s still early days - we’ll tell you more about those later down the line. But know that even as our focus turns to these new games, the sensibilities that brought you Baldur’s Gate 3 are alive and well here at the Larian castle. We’re fueled by the very same fire in our bellies, one that drives us to create immersive experiences shaped by your choices, and we can’t wait for you to join us on this next adventure.”

I will admit, when I first read this I felt a tinge of disappointment. As someone who had a lot of hope in seeing some stories continued, Kar’niss especially, this feels like the once open door is now sealed shut permanently. To be entirely fair, I always looked at an expanded Kar’niss story with skeptical optimism; hope for the best but expect the worst. After all, Kar’niss was designed as a throw away plot device that had no real bearing on the over-all narrative. Most of what has been derived of the character is entirely fan driven and not based on anything confirmed by Larian as a whole. Furthermore, there were many fan favorites that had a larger base than our dear drider and chances are even if Larian did decide to do an expansion, Kar’niss still wouldn’t make the cut.

With that said, I respect Larian in their choice. To expand on other characters would cost a lot of money and time. To juggle that alongside making new games would be unrealistic, and I understand their point of view completely. We also don’t know what is going on behind the scenes which could’ve influenced their choices all the more. Over all this situation mirrors the old saying, “Don’t cry because it’s over, be happy that it happened.” I am happy, and grateful. Without Baldur’s Gate 3 this blog wouldn’t exist. All of the amazing interactions I’ve had over several months would’ve never occurred, nor would I have found the courage to publicly publish stories to the internet. While I don’t consider myself an awful writer, I never believed my work was good enough for those outside of my personal circle. To say that my confidence has blossomed over the last few months is an understatement, and I owe that to the fantastic support of those in the fandom as well as those close to me. From the bottom of my heart, I thank you.

With Larian closing up the BG3 shop after the next few patches the question becomes, what’s next? For me, I don’t know. Sadly I’ve been swamped lately and it’s not destined to slow down until the middle of May. By then I hope to have a sufficient breather so I can return to projects I’ve left on the back burner in the interim. The Kar’niss blog will remain in place along with all of the archived stories, theories, and miscellaneous posts that are present. I still have a few writing requests that have waited a lot longer than I anticipated, so forgive me for the delay. I may also make a new blog that is dedicated solely to writing and other fandoms of interest. When the time comes I’ll post it here and folks can follow it if they wish but I’ll understand if not. Regardless of what the future holds, I am very stoked with the experiences I’ve had within the Baldur’s Gate 3 fandom. I’m a painfully shy individual and I am not a spotlight seeker by any stretch of the imagination. This section of the internet allowed me to expand my horizons a bit proving that you can indeed teach an old writer new tricks.

I look forward to seeing what is in store for Larian Studios. So long as they stick to their passion for making good games and treating their customers like people instead of money cows to be milked, then I will support every game release that comes in the future. While I’m sad that the many questions I had about Kar’niss will go unanswered, at least the drider will live on through the stories, art and other creative works made by his fans. In that way he is eternal, as are all of the other characters we’ve grown to love over this journey.

I hope to return on a more regular basis soon. Until then drider army, take care of yourselves and thank you for your continued support.

#baldur's gate 3 #kar'niss #bg3 #karniss #drider #baldurs gate 3 #larian studios #steam #essay #writing #I've missed posting here #the chaos on my end should be over soon #I hope

[themaclean]

Do you think vaultghoul are doomed to try and fail to navigate the debris of their respective worlds and circumstances, or do they have a shot at some sort of catharsis at each others hands that doesn't end in death and/or heartbreak?

I've been sitting on this for a few days because, ultimately, EVERYTHING ends with death or heartbreak, but the point is you do it all anyway. The idea that anyone can have a happy ending at the end of the world is sweet but impossible unless you consider what it is to have a happy ending or to be happy at all.

I think Cooper will be happier regardless because of Lucy, as much as it may pain him to admit that. But he's also someone who undoubtedly trusted and was betrayed many times since the world's end. I doubt he loved anyone after Barb, but he probably found people who made the darkness a little more bearable.

And then they died.

Lucy exists within the vault's paradigm, where the best she can hope for is a child who might get to experience Reclamation Day -- the fact that her excitement was that maybe her kids would get to be the ones who'd colonize the wastelands left by the war. Her happy ending was the picket fence and rhubarb pie of Vault-Tec's design.

And then she went after her dad.

They're both learning from one another, with Lucy lightening Cooper's demeanor while Cooper hardens Lucy enough for her to survive. And that's got to be enough because for a ghoul and a human, she's not got the longevity he has. Unless she becomes a ghoul, which I doubt they would really want for her.

The best case for them is that they die fighting to protect one another. Depending on the trajectory of their journey, they may have to learn to live without one another. That's the wastelands, and it's something that Cooper has had to do dozens of times over. For Lucy, it's a lesson she's going to be learning on repeat now that she's on the surface.

I will say, though, that this is all based on the current canon of eight episodes and it's clear there's been a shift in their relationship since the finale. So maybe my answer will change in time. I just don't know if there's anything like a happy ending in a world that ended already.

#vaultghoul #answered #lucy maclean #cooper howard #of-indifference #fallout #fallout spoilers

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

No Nut November - Steven

A/n: I had no motivation to write this but I'm happy it's finally done and I can add to this short series that people seem to be enjoying, oddly enough I don't expect this one to get the same love as the others just because it's Steven BUT I LOVE POPCORN

Warnings: Smut, oral sex, Steven being sad, reader admits to getting off on Steven in the middle of the night, if you think I missed something let me know otherwise enjoy :3

Intro

No nut November was a stupid idea, he never should’ve brought it up. The month hadn’t even started yet and he was pissed.

He left the studio with a headache just thinking about what would happen when he eventually lost. Even after moving in with you he’s woken up multiple times with stains on his underwear, all while you were sound asleep beside him.

He blasted the radio on his way home. Once he got to your shared apartment he couldn’t bring himself to get out and just sat there listening to Aerosmith’s “Crazy”, and a whole lot of their other sad songs. How did the radio know what he needed? And why was it all one of his favourite bands? He didn’t know, but he took it as a sign anyway and sat in his self-pity.

Eventually you came out and knocked on his window. He rolled it down and looked up at you with sad eyes and pouty lips.

“Did something happen?” You asked, reaching out for him and holding his face in your hand. He shook his head. “Then why are you sad?” He took a deep breath and rolled the window up, turned the car off and got out.

“Let’s just go inside.” He mumbled, an arm going over your shoulder as he walked you back inside.

Steven went straight for the couch and turned the TV on to distract himself. You went to the kitchen and got dinner, the dinner you made before he got home. It was a little cold but edible nonetheless.

“You wanna talk about it?” You asked as you sat beside him. Steven poked at his food and slumped back on the couch.

“The guys and I have a bet going to see who can go a whole month without-” He stopped abruptly, not wanting to say it in front of your home cooked chicken.

“Without..?” You repeated softly, wanting him to finish what he was saying, though you had a pretty good idea on what he meant. “We can’t do anything for a month?” You finally asked, the drummer solemnly shook his head.

“It sucks ‘cause I know I’m gonna lose, I mean, I can’t even count the amount of wet dreams I get from just sleeping beside you.” You froze for a second. Steven must have seen that because he groaned. “Shit, sorry, I guess you didn’t know.”

“Guess I’ll have to stop doing that...” You muttered under your breath.

“You’ll stop doing what?” He looked at you with a smile, wanting to hear this dirty little secret you’ve been keeping from him.

“Well, it’s just,” you started, cheeks starting to heat up, “sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and-and you just look so pretty beside me...” You trail off, now it’s your turn to poke your food.

“Do you fuck me in my sleep?” He asked, sounding more proud than anything. You drop your fork with a huff.

“I don’t do that, I just- I may or may not...” You trail off again, poking your food once more.

“Do you get off on me in the middle of the night?” Steven asked with a big smile and bright eyes. You huffed again and that was all the confirmation he needed. “Oh, sweetheart, you could’ve just woken me up, I would’ve loved to help you out!”

“I know, but I don’t want to wake you up for something that simple when I know you won’t wake up if I just do it.” I look up at him with a small pout that quickly fades to a grin. “You sleep like a dead log, by the way.” You added with a chuckle. Steven scoffed and threw a cooked cut of carrot at you.

After that conversation Steven had more hope in this bet. Then he heard that Duff was out and he thought it would be even easier! The cherry on top was Axl getting out before him, oh he was teasing the ginger about it the rest of the day. Axl almost killed him for it, but he had no regrets.

He came home to you, hoping to tell you about it because he was so proud of himself for lasting longer than Axl, the man who started it. Kind of, it was mostly the drummer's fault for bringing up NNN in the first place. However, when he got home he found you already asleep on the couch.

Steven thought you were adorable, all curled up in your blankets with the TV on. God, he loved you so much.

He picked you up and carried you to bed, helping you out of your jeans and into something a little comfier before crawling into bed with you and falling asleep with his head on your chest, his favourite sleeping position.

“Stevie.” You whispered in his ear. “Come on, Stevie.” You gave him a little shake, trying to wake him up. When he didn’t stir you moved to sit on his lap, hovering over his limp dick with your hands planted on his fluffy chest. “Stevie~” You purred. “Stevie I need you~” You leaned forward and started kissing his neck, nipping at the sensitive skin and biting his earlobe.

Finally the man began to wake up. “What are you- Oh~” He hummed when he put two and two together. “Couldn’t wait till morning?” You shook your head and rolled over beside him.

“I know you can’t do anything but...” You trailed off, tracing shapes on his bare chest.

“But..?” He prompted. You looked up at him with pleading eyes and a pout you know he just can’t say no to.

“Please..?”

“Please what?” His hand trailed up your arm and down your side before landing on your waist, giving it soft squeezes.

“What if you just fingered me or something?” You asked, thinking of other alternatives. Steven thought about it for a moment before crawling over you, slowly lowering himself further down the bed.

“I’ve got a better idea.” He mused as he tugged on the waistband of your shorts. His shorts, really, he got you into them because he thought they’d be more comfortable while you slept.

He pulled them off of you, as well as your underwear, and stayed like that for a moment just admiring your slick folds before delving into them. His tongue worked wonders on your sensitive parts, dipping into your cunt and circling your clit, sucking on the nub and making you go cross eyed with moans spilling out of you like a second language.

You had barely noticed that Steven had started grinding himself against the bed. His only thought was pleasuring you, though usually when he ate you out he’d do this, it was instinctual to get himself off on getting you off. He couldn’t help it, his drooling cock was bright red and ready to burst the same way you were, the knot in your gut quickly coming undone.

You screamed out his name, your hands pulling his hair as your thighs clamped down on his head. You often did that and he never complained once, rather loving the feeling of being locked to you.

You felt him moaning around you and when you looked down you could see he was twitching, he looked ready to cry.

“Oh, baby, what’s wrong?” You cooed, leaning forward a bit to get a better look at him. Steven got up and looked down to see a huge wet spot on his sweats, right where his cock was bulging through.

“I-I didn’t mean to-” He sputtered, clearly not over his high. You weren’t nearly as pent up as he’d been, getting yourself off whenever the need came about, the only difference was that Steven wasn’t the one getting you off. You hadn’t thought about how pent up he must’ve been, hell he probably didn’t put too much thought into it either.

“Well,” you started, still staring at his crotch, “if you’re out now there’s nothing keeping us from continuing... right?” You asked, looking  up at him.

“Yeah, but...” Steven trailed off.

“But..?”

“I’m tired.” He said and crawled back to the top of the bed so he could lay down. “Can you top?” He asked with a big grin. You returned the expression and happily climbed on top of him.

#guns n roses #guns n roses fanfic #guns n roses x reader #guns n roses smut #steven adler x reader #steven adler fluff #steven adler gnr #gnr #steven adler