#if you were going in a straight line running a mile feels so much more enjoyable | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bubblegumspacebxtch · 1 year

Text

You Shouldn't

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Word Count: 1.5K

Summary: Joel knows you shouldn't love him and if hurting you is the only way for you to stop, then so be it.

Warnings || angst, injury (stab wound), mentions of smut, Joel is a bit mean here, reader is called sweetheart, use of Y/N only once

A/N: lt's been a hot minute since I wrote anything on here but I really wanted to write Joel Miller angst so here's that. I have fallen down the TLOU rabbit hole and am currently obsessed with this grumpy old man I call daddy. Will write a part two for this one shot because though I love me good angst, I'm a sucker for happy endings. Enjoy!!

--------------------

Joel swore time stood still the moment those words left your lips. Suddenly the room felt stuffy, every muscle in his body aching to just run and avoid having the inevitable conversation before him.

"Because I love you, Joel..."

Joel looked away but you wouldn't break eye contact, even if it was just the side of his face. You knew the timing of your confession couldn't have been worse, but your heart needed to get it out now.

You and Joel had spent the last three years together, and for the last few months, you both crossed a line by sleeping with each other. It was supposed to be just sex, a way to meet a basic human need that, for the longest time, felt like a luxury. The set boundaries were clear.

"This is just for us to both feel good, alright sweetheart?"

You were adults who understood what the arrangement was, but no matter what state of mind you tried to keep, your heart simply could not be taught. When the three of you had settled in Jackson, it had became even harder to deny the want that kept simmering inside you.

As your found family fell into a rhythm the longer you stayed within the walls of the community, your fantasies of having an actual life with Joel and Ellie grew too. The last years have been about surviving, but now you felt like you could finally start to build a life with the only two people left in the world you'd give anything and everything up for.

It was normal for you to wait up for Joel when he was out on patrol. Despite his insistence that it wasn't necessary, your worries would not let you sleep a wink without knowing he was safe. The sound of the clock felt louder every second you stared at the front door from where you sat on the couch. Ellie offered to keep you company, but as her yawns became more frequent, it didn't take much convincing for her to retire to her own room after she had bid you goodnight.

Your eyelids were starting to feel heavy too, having spent the whole day in the garden harvesting the produce. A few more minutes pass and the sounds of footsteps on the porch made the clouds of sleep in your head clear. Before the door was even open, you were already walking to greet Joel.

The slump of his shoulders and heavy steps were enough to tell you it hadn't been the easiest patrol shift, but it was the dark patch of dried blood on his shirt that had caught your attention. The sight caused your stomach to twist, mind filling with worry over his obvious injury.

"Joel... what happened?"

At the sound of your voice, it was instinct for Joel to always find where it was coming from. Looking up at you, your eyes were soft, but the small frown marring your features told Joel your thoughts were running a mile a minute already.

"It's nothing."

The tall man tried his hardest to walk straight to the kitchen, fighting the urge to clutch his aching side. The pads of your feet against the floor meant you were close behind and Joel braced himself for he knew you were not about to let the coming conversation go.

"Joel, it's not nothing. You're bleeding. Let me take-"

"Sweetheart, I'm telling you, it's just a cut. I can handle it."

You offered nothing in reply but to let out a disappointed sigh before opening the cabinet with the medical supplies. Joel watched you move around, the corners of his mouth lifting into a small smile as he took in your small frame dwarfed by the old shirt of his you wore.

"Joel, sit down. Please."

You gestured to the dining room chairs and Joel still had some fight left in him, but the pleading look you sent his way kept him quiet. Joel would do anything for you, something the both of you knew for sure.

The walk to the dining area was short but Joel's discomfort was obvious. The quiet grunt he let out as he sat didn't get passed you. Lifting his shirt, your gasp was instantaneous as you stared at an obvious stab wound. You fought the urge to tell Joel off for passing the puncture as a simple cut as you grabbed disinfectant to clean the tear in his skin.

Joel let you work on his wound in peace. He knew you were worried, but you weren't above nagging him for being stubborn and always denying help. He looked at you like how he always has, with all the love and adoration he thinks he can no longer really give.

"Joel, you can't keep downplaying situations like this. You're hurt and this is a serious injury. I-I know you don't want me to worry, but I want to help you..."

The frustration in your words was palpable. Tension begun to set in between you two. It was becoming clear that this issue was something that needed to be discussed. Joel always had to appear like he couldn't get hurt, that he could hold his own and that he didn't need anyone. You on the other hand would bend over backwards for him. You desperately needed to show him how he didn't have to do everything alone, he has you.

But Joel was many things, one of them being stubborn as a mule. He knew you cared for him, but he refused to acknowledge what that meant. The hardened man would not entertain even the slightest idea that your concern for him may come from a place of love.

"I don't really know why you care so much, sweetheart. I've told you a hundred times, I can handle myself. Don't have to get so worked up over me."

"Because I love you, Joel..."

You couldn't love him. You shouldn't. He was old and Joel believed he was a reflection of everything wrong with the world. You, however, are a beacon of hope. Joel had watched you lighten the heart of everyone you had met, especially Ellie.

You were young and vibrant, despite having grown up in apocalyptic times. You too had lost everything, but unlike Joel, you always found the means to go on. Ellie and him loved your spirit. The younger girl had once jokingly said you were the sun itself, and Joel immediately understood what she meant. You were warmth in every sense of the word.

He didn't deserve you. Joel knew he couldn't have you, and even if you wanted him, he shouldn't. Joel was convinced he'd ruin you, let you down and loose you. It was easier to pretend he could no longer love like he once had. But you wouldn't let him.

For the past years you've been together, you wouldn't allow Joel to believe he didn't deserve good things. You'd try your hardest to show him you would not have anyone else but him, that you'd offer your heart for his a million times over.

The silence had caused a lump to form in your throat. You knew Joel took his time with processing emotions, but his lack of a response hurt you nonetheless. Before you knew it, he was pulling away.

He pushed backwards the chair he sat on, causing the legs to screech against the floor. The sound had made you visibly cringe and your mind was scrambling for a way to diffuse the situation.

"I know we agreed there shouldn't be any feelings involved but-"

"Exactly. We agreed that we were just hooking up. You can't go dumping your feelings on me like that."

"Joel, I-I have loved you almost as long as I've known you. Long before this arrangement even began. I-"

"Yeah... well you shouldn't. Don't be stupid, Y/N."

Joel abruptly stood up to leave before making his way to the front door. He could feel your stare as he paused in front of the door. Like a real glutton for punishment, he turned to look back at you. The tears had already began to run down your cheeks. Joel felt like his chest would implode seeing you so distraught, but his heart could not stop his mind nor his mouth.

"I can't be here right now."

And just like that, he's out the door and on to the street, making his way to Tommy's. As if hurting you wasn't punishment enough, your cries were the last thing he hears before closing the door and leaving.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller angst #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #the last of us #joel miller imagine #joel miller drabble #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction

668 notes · View notes

red1culous · 9 months

Text

Exhale

Snow was falling thick and fast as Nat follows Wanda out onto the pavilion into the cold night air. It falls in straight vertical lines gathering on their hair. Faster and faster, thicker and thicker big flakes feel like ice pricks on Nat’s bare shoulders before melting away.

“So much for the weather forecast” Nat mutters.

“This is so you” Wanda sighs stopping in her tracks.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Nat says almost bumping into her unprepared for her abrupt stop.

Wanda shakes her head. “It means you fall for someone and then you set the world on fire so you two can’t be together.”

Nat’s eyes widen at her description. “That’s not true and—“

“Oh come on Natasha. I may be the youngest here but I am your best friend and I see what’s going on. You like someone and then you get scared so you go out of your way to screw things up. You act ridiculous so no one can really get close to you. You want attention to a point. Once someone gets close to you, and in this case Y/N, you do something catastrophic to guarantee they run a mile away.”

“Ok, well don’t feel like you need to hold back” Nat says a little hurt but more so embarrassed by how accurately Wanda had described her. She sighs and hides her face in her hands. “Wow I am a monster. Maybe it’s best she keeps away then.”

Wanda leans in closer to her best friend poking her index finger into Nat’s shoulder. “Did you not hear a thing I just said?”

“Oh I heard you loud and clear. Crystal, in fact.” Nat’s shoulder slump a little.

“I’m not saying this to make you feel bad.”

Nat snorts. “Well you’re failing there.”

Wanda rolls her eyes. “Look all I’m saying is we all have baggage. I have enough to fill the Compound. But it’s what we do with the baggage that makes it better or worse. Are you just going to keep pushing people away or are you going to let her in?”

Wanda’s steady and piercing gaze punches holes through every excuse Nat had floating about in her head. She had long realised that her attraction towards you was more than just physical. Sure you had an allure that she was immediately drawn to. But just knowing that you were in the same building as her made her feel grounded. It was as if just being close to you made the world seem a little messed up than it was.

Nat knew Wanda was right. It was weird and it was selfish. She was purposely trying to self sabotage just because she was falling…or rather, had fallen for you.

Nat releases a huge breath. “Why would you want me to be with her. I’m a mess, Wands.”

“Because you’re so much more. And you’re the first person who makes her smile like an idiot and isn’t just using her.”

“I’m not the right person for her” Nat counters.

“Not right now you aren’t,” Wanda leans back on her heels and folds her hands across her chest, “but you could be.”

“How?” Nat asks her voice smaller than it’s ever been.

“Stop beating yourself up for whatever it is you think you think you’re responsible for.”

“Anyone tell you you’re like Oprah and Dr Phil combined?” Nat says a smile in her voice.

Wanda kicks some snow into Nat’s direction. “Did you hear a word I just said or do you want me to hit you in the face with a snowball?”

Nat lifts both hands in surrender. “And I’m going to make this right, I promise.”

“Good” Wanda replies giving Nat a quick side hug.

“Can we go inside now my nipples feel like they’re about to fall off” Nat says shifting her weight from foot to foot.

Wanda laughs pulling Nat into her side. “It’s not my fault you’re not wearing a coat” she says as they start walking back into the building.

-------

I have a taglist if you would like to be on it.

@arcturusseer @readings-stuff @blackwidow-3 @justyourwritter69 @cutelittleakira @jareguiromanoff @sk1nnyftt @official-clint-barton @nattysredhair @black-kittycat18 @owloftheshadows @angryalpacachaos @iliketozoneout @marvelonmymind @wastdstime @lovelyy-moonlight @beholdagaywriter @inluvwithfictionalwomen @33-mrvl @wandanats-goodgirl

#exhale #redfic #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #wanda maximoff

206 notes · View notes

1-ker0sene-1 · 3 months

Text

The Dead Do Talk

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish / Reader

(Wheelchair User Reader)

Chap1, Chap2, Chap3, Chap4

"Hell and High Water P.1"

Word Count: 4.2k

CW: gunfire, corpse description, threats, wheelchair user slur, car wreck

Getting in the city isn't hard. The roads are cluttered with cars, but most have already been pushed to make way. Johnny's brows furrow at the sights. It isn't like the town. It's not just abandoned and run down. No. It's a fucking disaster. Buildings burned, cars piled up and wrecked. He takes a glance your way, finding you unbothered and only focused on the road ahead.

"This wasn't just the dead-"

The blue eyed man mumbles out.

You shake your head. Forcing yourself to look away from the writhing charred bodies that were in a flipped car, looking over to John instead.

"I know getting shot isn't very pleasant and all-"

Johnny snorts at the comment and shakes his head.

"But.. in a way I think you're lucky. First month was a fuck show to put it lightly."

You mutter. Your hand lifting to pinch the bridge of your nose as you recount it all.

"Riots in the first few weeks.. people were already turning on eachother. The town stayed pretty civil, most people just left. But the city? Fuck.. They tore eachother apart before the dead could. Then when the dead overran?.. the horde earlier is a cake walk compared to this."

Johnny listens quietly with a few nods, brows furrowed together tightly. You're both stressed on this. The best idea is to get through fast. In one end of the city, out the other. He held the steering wheel with white knuckles. You hold your rifle in your lap. You're getting to the more dense parts of the city, no longer skirting the outside streets.

"Ye think they would've dropped a bomb on this place.."

John mumbles under his breath. You watch his expression, the creases under his eyes when he narrows them in focus. You shrug at his words.

"They were focused on getting people out.. besides-"

You look around at the burned buildings.

"The damage was already done."

The two of you spent an hour or so navigating the truck through the streets, having to go around several pile ups of cars. It was painstakingly slow. Every inch of progress was due to a mile of runarounds. Doing the best you can to not have to get out of the truck. Not that Johnny wouldn't carry you through. He just didn't want to risk anything happening to either of you. And you would rather not give him that burden for as long as possible. Johnny can't help but stare in slight frustration at the slight tremble in his hands whenever they stop to check directions.

The pencil shakes just as much as he does when it's between his fingertips. Letting out a grunt as he tried to drag a simple straight line across the page. He can feel your eyes on him. The two of you were shacked up in a small bedroom of a house, a week into your travels together. Laying on your side, Johnny just barely a foot away in his own sleeping bag. Despite your disapproval, most of the blankets were wrapped around you.

"You alright?"

You mumble out to him. He nods shortly. Before letting out a tsk and putting the journal and pencil aside next to the lantern between the two of you.

" 'm fine bon.. Just- fuckin' tired of not bein' tha same."

The scott grumbles.

"My aim too."

He scoffs in disappointment with himself.

You raise a brow but smile a little.

"Gunshot to the head and you're mad your hands shake? .. You're gonna be okay John.. you just got back on your feet maybe a week ago. Give your body some time. Besides, you miss a shot? I'll be there to hit the target with you."

You assure. Leaving him to stare softly at you as you reach over to shut off the lantern. Putting you both in darkness.

"Johnny?"

He blinks out of the memory, looking over at you. You, who taps the map on the next street to go down. Raising your brow at him.

"Still with me?"

You joke.

Johnny nods and puts the truck in gear again, starting to pull forward to the road you pointed out. Letting out a hum of acknowledgment.

"Always hen."

He says simply. Continuing the trip forward.

Rain had started pelting down on the truck, washing over the windows and the windshield. It wasn't too hard to drive through, but it was worrying for the night to come. It was going to be cold. They had previously been lucky with weather, no storms or rain, god help you if it snows this winter. Johnny pulls the steering wheel to the right, the main road was cut off by a wreck. The other direction was blocked by a mess of corpses that had been crushed by pieces of a burned building.

The truck screeches to a stop. You're looking at the map when you hear John's breath hitch in his throat. You look to him first, the way his blue eyes widen, a whole storm brewing in those seas. The way his tan skin pales. Lips parted.

"John..?"

You mutter. Your voice breaks him, instantly pulling the shift back into reverse. A string of curses too fast to understand leaving his mouth. He's looking over his shoulder as he violently pulls the truck back, the tires screech on asphalt. You finally look forward.

A building, alight in flames. Your map drops into your lap. Staring at the massive horde of dead that lingers in front of the fire, drawn by the crackling. One turns, hearing the truck, another.. You can't take your eyes off them, but you hear Johnny calling your name. Until his hand takes your shoulder, giving you a light shake.

"Directions-! Where can we go!?"

Hands feebly grasping at the map, your eyes snap down to find a way out of your situation. That horde was bigger than the one on the highway. One that size could flip the truck with ease. Looking at the map you curse in frustration, shoving it in the duffel next to you. Leaning over you look back with John. Your eyes lock on the writhing mass you avoided before.

"We have to ram through- the other way is blocked."

Johnny glances at you with an open mouth, but he can't bring himself to object when he has no plan of his own. He whirls the truck around, flooring it towards the small barricade of rotten flesh. Even though you're wearing a seatbelt, Johnny's arm outstretches across your stomach to keep you in place. Your hand grips his arm with white knuckles.

First you hear the crunching, the sharp breaking of bones under the mass of the tires. The gargled wails of the dead. You pull in a shaky breath as the tires start to spin out on the mixture of cement and corpses, looking to Johnny to what can only be described as pure panic. Once he sees it on your face his hand bunches the fabric of your shirt in a fist. Looking forward as he pulls in reverse just a couple feet.

"Johnny-"

You blurt. Looking back over the seat. The dead are gaining on you, stumbling together in a crowd towards the back of the truck.

"I know- I know bonnie-!"

The man stresses in return, hollering over the revving of the vehicle. He hammers the gas once again, crunching bones, again. The sound has to be burned into your skull by now. This time, the back tires push through. Sending the truck flying forward down the street. You slump into the seat with a shuttered breath of relief. Still squeezing his arm tight to yourself.

Johnny momentarily glances at you, shrinking with relief as you do. Letting out a deep breath as he talks to you softly now, his fist opening to a palm.

"We're ok- I told ye we'd be-"

"Johnny look OUT-"

You barely get to warn him. Before something slams through the windshield from above. Debris from the withering building in front of you. The truck slams to a stop, hitting the breaks hard, the result of Johns instincts. But it's too late. The slam wrenched his head forward, colliding with the steering wheel. Yours hitting the dash.

Fuck. His head hurts. Johnny's eyes barely flitter open. The throbbing ache just above his brows assaults his brain. His limbs feel impossibly heavy. His temple is pressed to the steering wheel, struggling with himself to come to his senses. You're calling for him, yelling his name, he can see it on your lips. He can only mutter yours in return. You have a knife, you swing- but not at him. Surely not at him.

No. You strike the blade down on a corpse trying to crawl through the window. His ears are ringing. He feels you grip the collar of his shirt, trying to pull him from the driver seat. Undoing his seatbelt. His hearing is coming back, so does his common sense.

"John get up-!"

He looks at you, closing his eyes tightly and opening them again. Taking in the true situation.

"Johnny please! You have to get up-"

They're fucked. His ears have stopped ringing, leaving the sounds of it all to rush on him like a tidal wave. The dead groaning, the rain, the distant fire still crackling, your voice. Your voice is calling for him. You're still driving back the corpses, plunging your blade into any head that peeks into the broken window towards him. Hauling him as much as you could towards yourself, which was merely at least his upper half hanging in the passenger seat with you. You pulled the duffel closer, your rifle on your back.

He's still reeling. Johnny's eyes flicker about the car. What are they going to do? They're going to lose the truck. He has to get you out. You. Fuck he has to get you to safety. He can feel blood running down his temple. Your hands cup his face, guiding his head to look away from the mess and just to you. Only you.

"John. Look at me. Alright?"

Your thumbs gently dig into his jaw, grounding him with the action.

"There's a school. Just a couple blocks. Two blocks away and we're safe. John.. I need you. I need you to get up."

The words seem to snap some sort of unseen band inside him. The scott lurches forward, arms wrapping around your midriff. Hauling both you and himself out the passenger door. You grab the strap of the duffel bag over his shoulder as you both fall from the height of the truck. He grunts as his back collides with the wet pavement, you're on top of him. Providing a familiar weight on his chest that would be comforting in any situation but this one.

"I got ye."

John rasps, pulling himself together for the sake of both of you. Pulling himself to stand steady with you, easing you over his shoulder as he scrambled away from the dead clawing at the other side of the truck. Stay with me bon.. He thinks. Stay with me I'll get you there.

"Two rights Johnny. Just down the street."

You tell him quickly. Raising your rifle to cover the both of you. Johnny steel's himself as the rush begins. He moves forward quickly, shoving past any corpse in his way. Doing his best to simply move past or push them down. The dead are brittle really, a hard shove can send them to the ground long enough to make a run for it. But there is so many.

Corpses in front of him are knocked down, the ones gaining behind are shot down by you. Two blocks. Johnny reminds himself. Not much further. Just another block. He can feel you tensed up. Gritting your teeth as you prop up a little to reload the rifle.

"Last right John."

You tell him between heavy breaths. The rain was pouring down on the both of you, Johnny couldn't differentiate the feelings of the water from the blood rushing down his face.

There it is. The double doors of a highschool building. It looks relatively untouched, or at least the building looks stable. He makes a full sprint towards it, eyes narrowing seeing the metal chains looping between the handles.

"Fucks sake-"

He snarls in frustration. Coming closer, he slips you off his shoulder. Letting you slump into his side, arm tight around your hip to hold you up so you don't crumple beneath the weakness of your legs. Using his free hand to wrench at the chains.

You have your rifle reloaded, going right back to shooting down approaching corpses.

"We don't have much time!"

You warn. The crowd of dead is getting thicker, moving together like a looming cloud. Thunderous constant groans, snapping jaws and blank stares. Never quite looking at you. Just forward with milky orbs.

Johnny pulls the last of the chain out of the handles, tossing them aside. Pushing the door open just enough to slip you and himself inside. Once on the other side of the wood, he whirls around. Throwing his forearms to the doors, pressing them closed. Slamming his knee up against it as well, giving you a little space to sit. John never liked sitting you on the floor. He'd rather use himself as a damn human stool than sit his lass on the ground. He lets out deep breaths, looking over for something to block the doors.

"Alright hen we-"

There's just a moment, where the cock of a shotgun and the click of your rifle goes off at the same time.

His back goes rigid, his jaw flexing in frustration. How many things can possibly go wrong today? He presses himself in front of you, despite your hushed mumble of protest. You prop the rifle carefully on the edge of his shoulder, having a steady aim on the threat.

"You were the ones making a fucking mess out there?"

A hoarse voice calls out with a sharpened scowl. You keep the rifle trained on him, staying quiet. Swallowing thickly as Johnny struggles to keep the doors closed against the dead. The older man, with a round face and a five o'clock shadow, has his own gun trained on John. You did not fucking need this right now.

There's movement behind an overturned desk, in an instant you turn your aim towards it. Now having a middle aged woman in sight, dark curls adorn her head, along with a seemingly deep etched frown. Your aim makes the man bristle.

"Put your gun down girl."

"She dinnae take orders from you."

Johnny growls. You keep your aim where it is. The woman shifts uncomfortably, standing slowly and raising her hands. Her voice is shaky, full of anxiety.

"The dead are going to break through- please- shooting eachother does nothing if we just get torn apart anyways."

She tries to reason, your eyes narrow. The old man grunts.

"They need to get out."

You scoff at such a suggestion.

"We're not going anywhere."

John presses his shoulder to the doors, which seem to breathe inwards with the flux of the corpses shoving against the bending wood. Frustration seeps deep in his aching bones, holding the doors shut he can't do much to defend you. He grunted and managed to grit out.

"His first. Drop it."

"Over my dead body!"

The man snaps, his chest shudders as he lets out a wheezy cough. Johnny sees the way your eyes narrow and turn the gun back to the older man.

"We could do it that way-"

You say bluntly. The other woman let's out a sound of stress, moving to the old mans side. Pressing down on the gun to lower it.

"Please! Please don't. We can help eachother. He can't hold the door much longer."

Johnny watches you glance up at him, worry etched deep in your eyes. No. No hen you're doing fine. He wants to console you. I can keep holding. You look over to a bookshelf in the corner, gesturing to it. Lowering your rifle. You speak to the woman, finding her more reasonable.

"The shelf. If you two push it in front he can let go of the doo-"

The sour man scoffs.

"Why don't you get up and do-"

Johnny hasn't wanted to shoot a living person this badly in a long time. His fists clench against the now splintering wood.

"She can't. Just help for fucks sake."

The scott snaps. But it sends the two strangers into action without much thought into his words. Pushing and dragging the shelf towards the set of double doors.

As soon as the bookshelf is pushed closer, Johnny's arms wind around your waist. Holding you securely to him, your back pressed to his chest as he pulls you away. Letting the man and woman push the shelf in front of the doors, effectively holding them closed. How are they supposed to trust these people? How are they supposed to get the fuck out of the building? Feeling your hand rest on his forearm, his thoughts still. He helps you over to a desk, easing you into the chair, humming softly in response to your mumble of appreciation. But you don't let go of him.

"John you're bleeding."

" 'm fine lass. Dinnae matte-"

"It's your stitches. Of course it matters."

You stress at him, looking up at the scott in alarm. Lifting your hand to start wiping away the blood. You worry so much bonnie.. Johnny sighs at you, taking your hand and putting it back on the rifle.

"When we're safe. We can look at it."

He says, to which you nod. John slings the duffel off his shoulder and onto the desk top. Fuck. That was all the supplies they have now. Your bloody hand taking the rifle as the other two people in the room turn back towards you.

"She really can't get up? She bit?"

The old man questioned with a pointed gaze. Johnny was getting tired of his voice real quickly. You however, just chuckle tiredly.

"Not bitten. Just can't walk-"

The man huffs in disdain.

"So you're a crippl-"

"Disabled. She's a disabled vet."

Johnny corrected sharply with a slight curl like snarl of his lip.

The two men seem to stare at eachother for a moment, Johnny's eyes flare in anger. Those usual calm blues that look at you so softly, now sharp and jagged with ice. The woman across the room nervously pulls her dark curls back from her face, coming over to push on the older man's chest.

"Randall that's enough. please."

Despite her face being more angular and sharp than Randalls, her demeanor is much more gentle. She looks at both you and Johnny with nothing but sympathy.

"I'm sorry about him- .. It's just.. people we have run into haven't exactly been.. Kind."

She tries to put it lightly.

"I'm J, can I ask your names?"

The dead are still by the doors, but now that the group is talking quieter they seem to disperse just slightly. Now that they can't see you, only hearing hushed whispers. But still, it was too dangerous to leave through this exit.

"This is John."

You introduce your sargeant, then yourself after. Johnny still stands close to the desk where you sit, still uneasy in general about these people. He speaks up sternly. He doesn't seem interested in small talk.

"Tha building secure? Been here long?"

J sighs and shakes her head, gesturing over to the hall, which was blocked with stacks of desks and chairs.

"We only ran in here a few hours ago.. the horde has been filtering through the city until they stopped at the fire- .. The hallways and classrooms are full of the dead too."

You let out a sigh, running a hand over your face in frustration. Trapped from both ends. The last thing the both of you wanted today. Johnny pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Cannae do anythin' t'night.. Have ta let tha dead stumble off."

The sargeant mutters under his breath, pulling up a chair to sit next to you. His arm instinctively rests on the back of the chair you sit in.

"And whose fault is that?"

Randall grunts, throwing himself down in a chair across the room. The shotgun resting on his leg. J gives him a look, as if begging him to shut up. Johnny opens his mouth to snap back, but you beat him to it.

"I'd say maybe the corpses? Or y'know- the fact that the world went to shit."

Not giving the old man much attention, you turn your eyes back to your trusted companion.

"We need a plan.. to draw them away in the morning-"

You say to Johnny. But it seems he's paying more attention to your rain covered form, the way you shiver once in a few moments, the way your clothes stick to your skin as they're soaked through. His are wet too, but he can't bring himself to care much. But by the way your eyes rake over him with a frown, you do. Worrying again wee hen?

"John?"

"Aye I know.. we'll figure somethin' out."

You watch as Johnny is shrugging off his jacket, wrapping it around your shoulders. You catch his shoulder before he pulls away, your thumb rubs a circle against his skin.

"Let me take a look at your stitches then.. We have to wait till morning anyways-"

The other two seem to be settling as well, they have a couple backpacks in the corner beside them. The woman, J, seems to dig through one, before pulling out medication for the older man. You turn your head away from them to focus on Johnny. Pulling the duffel bag closer.

"I know I put your painkillers in here.. that little med pack from the gas station last week should be too.."

You mutter to yourself.

The slam to the head seems to be catching up to your soldier, he lifts his hand to brush his fingers against the open wound. Definitely ripped a few stitches, he can see you grimace on his behalf. But you pull out the bottle of pills and a small red bag, ready to work on him.

"Shite is too hectic ta be worryin' bout me hen."

You quirk a brow and chuckle at him.

"Stop making me worry then soldier."

Finding a needle and medical thread, your eyes stay down at the bag. But you can feel Johnny looking at you, with those blue eyes. Thinking too much for his own good, you can already tell.

"Don't give me the look."

" 'm worried lass... 'm worried bout tha city..tha dead.. gettin' ye through.."

"Thought we aren't supposed to be worrying John.."

Grabbing a rag from the duffel, you glance up at Johnny. Meeting his softened icy eyes with your own, the way his brows furrow and lift in worry. You sigh, hand outstretching to carefully grasp his jaw. Your other hand wiping away the blood on the side of his head from his temple. Your thumb brushing over the scar on his chin absentmindedly.

"We're okay."

"The last time I told ye that we ended up in a crash bon... now yer soakin' wet an' shiverin'..."

"We're alive. That's what matters.."

Cleaning up his head, you get to stitching. Unsurprisingly, the man sits like an absolute rock. Letting you stitch up his head. You'd think he'd wince, flinch, shift .. Something. But he stays perfectly still for you, not that you don't see his clenching and unclenching fist on the desk in front of you.

"You know it wasn't your fault Johnny."

He sighs quietly hearing your words.

"I should've been payin' attention. If we dinnae crash.. We could've been outta tha city by now."

You frown at him, still focused on carefully moving the needle through his skin.

"I directed you just as much as you drove.. It's no one's fault. And if it is? I'm just as much to blame."

Your words quiet him, he can't think of a response still blaming himself. You pull the stitches together carefully to close the wound again, using your knife to cut the thread at the end. You reach for a bandage in the red bag. John grunts.

"C'mon now. I dinnae need that-"

"Whine later sargeant. I want these stitches to stay and heal."

You huff in return at him, your hand slips around to the nape of his neck to urge him closer. To which he leans down towards you, letting you wrap the bandage over the stitches securely and around his head.

There's a thud against the double doors, most likely a corpse stumbling into it. All four of you jolt. Randall squeezes his gun, J grasps her bag. Your head snaps to the door, trying to listen to the pairs of footsteps. Johnny, his arm shoots out to grab your own, the pad of his thumb nestled gently to the crook of your elbow. He's ready to grab you at any second, just take you away when things get rough.

You take a deep breath, placing your hand over Johnny's. Still staring at the door despite him still staring at you.

".. We're getting out of the city.. We're just.. On a detour."

John grumbles and looks at the other two in the room with narrowed eyes, before looking back to you with a sigh.

"Ye and yer scenic routes lass.."

{WOO this took WAY too long. But I'm excited. Had to split this into a part two, because let's just say things will not calm down. Johnny's so worried about you, so let's give him something to worry about yeah?}

(tag list: @sadstone-s @lolly145 @mangoguy @kaoyamamegami @waiting-so-long @ikohniik @bossva @kaelyn-lobrutto24 )

114 notes · View notes

ohisms · 1 year

Text

↪ 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑫𝑬𝑽𝑰𝑳 𝑰𝑵 𝑴𝑬 . ( a series of sentence starters from the 2022 supermassive game “ the devil in me ” . adjust phrasing as necessary . spoilers & mature themes are present . )

i bet you can see a hundred miles from the top .

you mean you’re not weary of me after an entire day of marriage ?

are we the only ones here ?

that’s no way to run a business .

that’s my [ name ] , always finding that silver lining .

my attention was needed elsewhere .

i promise from here on out , it will be nothing but silver linings .

today is a very special day for us .

i’m starting to think i’ve gone & married a thrill seeker .

are we looking for excitement ?

see what happens when you chase a thrill ?

if you’ll excuse me , i have work to return to .

i’m sure we’ll see each other again soon .

this feels like some sort of treacherous plot .

close your eyes , & face the mirror .

aren’t you clever & romantic ?

don’t fight it ... it’ll only hurt more if you do .

you’re only prolonging the inevitable .

what have you done ?!

you’re wasting your last chance to tell him that you love him .

it’s so good to have company . for a long time , i was on my own .

i can barely recall a time when i was not here .

what good are stories without someone to experience them ?

art can elicit all sorts of reactions .

you’re responsible for what happens . you’re culpable .

i can’t interfere , that’s very much against the rules .

it’s tough being honest when it means everyone just thinks you’re a bitch .

i’m sick of being on my own .

it’s a fucking mess , to be honest with you .

i think we’ve heard quite enough .

i was born with the devil in me .

i could not help the fact that i was a murderer any more than a poet can help the inspiration to sing .

just being dead ain’t enough to stop me from killing again .

actually , it’s what i can do for you .

do you know where we’re going , exactly ?

it was 100% your fault . you fly by the seat of your ass .

was this part of the plan ? did you know about this ?

i figured we needed all the help we could get .

downtime ? why would you want to do that ?

i’ve got a lot going on at the moment , [ name ] .

you got any family you can go bother ?

‘ married to the job ’ ... how’s that marriage working out ?

we agreed to let that drop for the weekend .

sorry for giving you a hard time .

christ , what the hell is that ?

it’s gonna be okay , it’s all gonna be okay .

i’ll explain everything later .

are you sure ? ‘cos you don’t seem sure .

i’m charming , & you can hotwire your way past security .

hey , can i ask you something & get a straight answer ?

shh , get down !

this is ridiculous , there’s nothing out here .

i heard you were looking for a new place .

if i wanted to go on nature hikes , i wouldn’t have moved to the city .

you can do it . eyes forward , don’t look down .

you always knew how to get me through the shit , didn’t you ?

maybe this won’t be a waste of a weekend .

i told you this was a good plan , didn’t i ?

you’ve been out & about all day , & i have to sit here worrying . gone all day , & not a word from you !

i don’t think we’re the only ones here .

this is my don’t be scared song , sing it & i won’t be scared long !

scream if you need me for anything .

something about this place makes me wanna use the buddy system .

you talk in your sleep ... not sure if i ever told you that .

you’re cute when you’re worked up .

cute ? ... you think i’m cute ?

i try to pretend like it isn’t a thing , you know .

if my cheeks are red , it’s from this wine .

sorry . didn’t mean to make you feel weird .

i’m fucking with you , i’ve been wanting to kiss you for months .

sorry , did i interrupt something ?

i can’t find my room & i need a fucking cigarette .

i’m not stressed , okay ? do i look fucking stressed ?

this place is massive , surely there’s a pack of cigarettes here .

stick with me , [ name ] , i’m going places .

[ name ] , there’s something important you have to understand .

no , come on , you piece of shit ... don’t do this to me !

i’m supposed to buy “ nothing ” is eating up at you ?

i still think your priorities are fucked .

what about taking a huge risk & just DO something ?

are you trying to butter me up ?

we don’t need to rehash stuff , let’s just work .

you’re only asking me ‘cos your arms are too short for a good selfie angle .

maybe we should just add this topic to our “ discussion no - fly zone ” list .

shit , that scared the fuck out of me .

at some point , you have to give up the ghost .

you’ve been doing your research , haven’t you ?

are you taking a survey or trying to learn something ?

would it kill you to be direct ?

you want to know what inspired me ? as if i wasn’t the original ?

you look amazing , as usual .

i heard enough , thank you , i know what betrayal sounds like .

i’m not blind , i know what i saw .

this could work to our advantage .

am i the only one that’s getting really freaked out by this place ?

can you stop trying to make this worse ?

don’t come crying to me if you end up dead .

choices , [ name ] , make better choices .

this is your own damn fault .

it’s all about the honey trap .

you bring me some smokes ? like i asked ?

that’s what i remember most . those screams .

you’ll never really know how it feels to watch the fire burn out of somebody .

thanks for that stuff you said at dinner . it was nice to hear .

we’re all on the same side , sometimes we forget .

get me out of here ! i can’t see a thing !

count your breaths . one, two, three, in ...

how very rude , not to stay for dinner .

i can only observe , & it can be ... frustrating to watch .

in some ways , i envy you .

something is very not right here .

i’ve been waiting on you for ages to actually make a decision about something , anything , & now this is when you suddenly choose to take a stand ?

your delusions make for such great plans .

would it kill you to think positively just once ?

it’s not even the worst idea i’ve had this evening .

don’t go patting yourself on the back , i still think your priorities are fucked .

i can care about more than one thing at a time .

working this job has made me really understand what a sociopath is .

you always assume the worst .

help me ! please -- please , i’ll do anything !

maybe you’re right , but you don’t need to be an asshole about it .

i guess i was holding out for things to change with us .

i have never once shied away from telling you where my priorities were .

i have to live with it every day & now someone knows .

someone WANTED me to find this .

you have to get the fuck out ANY way you can . just get the FUCK OUT !

are you losing your shit ? ‘cos i don’t need that right now .

maybe we just focus on one thing at a time .

[ name ] ... i found a way out , maybe .

i don’t know what i was expecting .

what the fuck is this ?

[ name ] , what are you doing ? just stay back .

no way this is happening .

it’s gotta be fake ... a prop , or from ... an animal or something .

it can be difficult working with someone you’ve been involved with .

i think we can bust through this thing .

i’ve had enough of this shit , what the hell is going on ?

the walls are moving again .

i’m not a fuckin’ lab rat here for your amusement !

don’t look at me like that . you know i’m right . you get it .

you got to do something that matters .

think of the most profound thing you’ve ever done .

i see the gleam in your eye , [ name ] . you can’t fool me .

there ... there you are . i see you now .

bare hands can feel good , huh ? but the blade makes for such a prettier picture .

how far down does it go ?

there’s blood everywhere , & ... & a body .

one of us is going to have to be bait .

you could use that as a weapon if need be .

what an excruciating way to go .

people can surprise you sometimes .

as always , i’ll be watching very closely .

hurry the fuck up !

it’s a forest , it could be anything .

can you not freak me out even more than i already am ?

i wasn’t expecting you .

you’re a selfish monster ... always have been .

predictable little shit , i know you .

[ name ] ! i thought i lost you .

all good things must come to an end .

can you find your own way out ?

i have no doubt we’ll meet again in the future .

#yeah okay i got 3/5 of them killed #WHOOPS ?#rp meme #rp prompt #inbox meme #rp inbox meme

720 notes · View notes

steebharringt0n · 8 months

Text

knocked up - part II

summary: two pink lines and a town in ruins - steve harrington knew this wasn't a safe place for you, he's on a mission to find a place that is. warnings: sexual themes, she/her pronouns, female anatomy, language, mentions of death, pregnancy pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader author's note: remember when i said this would be three parts? i lied, it's going to be four lmao thanks for your patience! enjoy! tag list: @sheisjoeschateau @ali-r3n

part I | part II

The water dripping in your bathroom faucet echoed loudly as it splashed beneath the sink. Your right leg twitched uncontrollably as you sat on the toilet seat, palms smoothing out your jeans as you waited for the timer.

It was pointless, you already knew. A blood test at your job confirmed it but still, your mind was in denial. Freshly out of high school and pregnant with the baby of the first guy you meet in your new town. It was pathetic, it was mortifying, it was almost embarrassing. Telling your parents was one thing, but telling Steve? You weren’t sure how that was going to go.

Sure he seemed great with kids but did he actually want kids? Would he want to get married and settle down?

Would he even want this baby?

The shrill ringing of the timer brought you out of your thoughts. You lifted your head up from your hands, face red and splotchy from the tears that cascaded down your face. You pulled yourself up from the seat and walked towards the sink, you ran a hand through your hair and took a deep breath. With trembling hands you picked up the test, another 2 bright pink lines faced you, almost mocking you.

You let out another sob from your mouth, placing down the pregnancy test you glanced at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes scanned all across your body, imagining just how much it was going to change within the next few months. Your chest was going to get bigger, no doubt, you were already starting to feel sore and tender. Your hands then moved down to your stomach, resting your palms flat against the fabric of your shirt.

A warmth bloomed beneath you, you closed your eyes and just felt the beat of your heart pump through you, not just you but the little seed that had begun to grow. You let a shaky exhale out, trying to calm yourself down before planning out your next moves.

You knew Steve would be calling you in a few hours, but you needed a moment, well more like the whole night to rethink and reevaluate your entire life.

So when your mom’s knuckles came tapping on your door, phone in hand, you shoo’d her away.

“It’s your friend Steve on the phone”

You’re curled up on your bed, hugging your pillow, your face smushed within your sheets.

“I’m not feeling well tell him I’ll call him later”

You heard your moms voice echo back your exact words to Steve over the phone, she then shuffled away from your door, her footsteps echoing in the background.

Right now you just wanted the world to stay still, to stop rotating until you got your head on straight, but as you glanced over to the clock on your nightstand you knew time was wasting away and he would have to know sooner or later.

—

Robin hated the opening shift.

For one she had to wake up at an ungodly hour and on a Saturday no less. Second, she had to work with Keith and his cheese stained hands and his god awful flirting with women who were way beyond his league. If she thought Steve’s flirting was bad then Keith’s was somewhere down in hell.

Steve had begged her to switch shifts. It’d been two days since he last heard from you. He had stopped by your work and found out that you had taken the rest of the week off. He'd been a mess for the last days after you kept rejecting his calls. His mind was running a million miles per minute, thinking about the worst possible scenario. His plan was to go over to your house in the morning, catch you early, to make sure you were okay, and that specifically you and him were okay.

You two weren’t official just yet but Steve had plans on asking you to be his girlfriend this past Friday. He had a whole night planned out. He was going to take you out, make it all real fancy and romantic. Then take you out for ice cream, drive to the quarry and ask you then after. He even made a playlist for the night, he’d been looking forward to it all week and then, his plans all went astray.

After his breakup with Nancy, he had become a little paranoid, a little anxious when girls would blow him off. Was it something that he did? Something he said? Did he have bad breath? Was he not charming enough? All these questions floated around in his head and it was eating away at him. After having your heart absolutely crushed by your first love you keep a bit of those scars, and fears, within you.

After hearing him whine all night long Robin reluctantly agreed to switch.

“Robin I swear I’ll make it up to you” he promised her.

She rolls her eyes as she finishes sorting through the video returns.

“Yeah, yeah” she waves him off.

However, as Robin was getting Family Video ready for the day she spotted a figure lingering outside of the store. She narrows her eyes towards the front of the store, trying to get a better look at the person. They’re here way too early on a Saturday she thinks to herself.

But as the person continues to pace back and forth in front of the store she finally gets a good look at the person and she realizes, it’s you.

“What the hell …” she mutters to herself.

She walks towards the front and unlocks the door. She pokes her head out,

“Hey … Steve’s not here, he … “ she stops right in her tracks when she realizes that you’ve been crying. Your face is puffy and red, hair slightly disheveled and you’re still in your PJs. Robin fully comes out of the store now, a concerned look now etched across her face.

“Hey Robin, do you know where he is? I - I need to talk to him” you quietly say. You give her a watery smile to try to quell her nerves.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you? I swear to god I will rip his nuts off - “

“No no no! Robin, he’s been great, he’s been wonderful” you pause to take a breath, your morning plan had suddenly gone astray and now you were racking your brain to figure out what to do next.

“But you’re crying, something’s wrong …” Robin trails off.

You reach down and grab Robin’s hand, more for comfort than anything. “Robin, can we talk inside?” You ask her.

Robin is taken aback by your action. But by the look of your face something serious is happening and Steve is involved. Robin nods and takes you inside the store.

“Keith I’m taking my 15 minutes now” she states to Keith as she walks past him in the front.

“Hey hey, she can’t go back there! Employees only!” He exclaims as Robin takes you to the back break room.

“Girl problems! Suck it up Keith!” She shouts back to him as she pulls you inside and shuts the door.

She pulls out a chair for you to sit and she grabs one and sits right across from you. She leans down towards you, her blue eyes bore into yours as she holds your hands.

“Alright, spill”

You give yourself a second to catch your breath, but the moment your breath becomes steady, tears begin to prick the corner of your eyes. Your heart starts to beat heavily and Robin can feel how clammy your palms are. In the softest voice you tell her,

“Robin I’m pregnant”

Robin leans back in her seat, blue eyes wide and blank. She feels as if her world has been shifted, completely tilted on its side.

“Oh shit”

You sniff, “yeah, oh shit”

Her best friend was going to be a dad and by the looks of it he still didn’t know. A million thoughts start running through her head, she knows how much Steve liked this girl, hell he wouldn’t shut up about her since he met her.

But now they were going to be parents and she’s not sure how to react. She gets up from her seat and starts pacing,

“Did you tell Steve yet?” She asks.

“No, that’s why I was coming here. I - I finally got the courage to tell him.”

“What about your parents?”

Your head shakes, “it’d be best if they don’t know”

They didn’t need to know, they were dealing with too much.

Robin nods but she’s starting to feel a little overwhelmed, “Okay, okay, this is fine. Steve’s going to be a dad, Steve Harrington, dingus extraordinaire is going to be a father, a - and I’m going to be an Aunt! Wait, no, I’m not his sister, but they’ll most likely call me Aunt Robin - “

“Robin”

“ - but wait, do I want to be called Aunt Robin? What if they want to call me Aunty Robin? Or Aunt Robs - “

“Robin”

“ - you know what? It’s fine they can call me whatever they want - “

“ROBIN”

You shoot up from your seat to grab the panicking blonde by the shoulders. Her eyes are blank but wide, as if every single thought in her head was now concerned you, Steve and baby Harrington.

“I’m sorry my brain malfunctioned” Robin says, her face clearly frazzled.

“I need you here with me Robin, focus on the bigger issue. Steve” you say his name with such an ache in your voice. You take your arms off her shoulders and sit back down, exhaling a shaky deep breath. You stare ahead, as if in a daze,

“Do you think he’s home?” You quietly ask her.

“Most likely. He hasn’t been sleeping too much”

You look up at Robin who still has a stunned look on her face,

“I’m gonna go, I - I need to go” you mutter.

“Wait! Do you need me to come with you? Ya know, moral support?” Robin offers.

You shake your head, already walking toward the break room door. “No, this is something I have to do by myself”

Robin watches you disappear behind the break room door. She lets out a large breath of air that she’d been holding in.

You swiftly walk past Keith and out the glass door and make your way back home. You were lucky that Family Video was just a couple blocks from your house, it gave you time to think about how to tell Steve. You wrapped your arms around yourself, eyes glued to the ground, completely focused on your blue slippers.

“Hey Steve, guess what, I’m pregnant! Ugh, no, that sounds stupid, hey Steve, remember the one and only time we had sex? Well, I’m pregnant! Okay well that just sounds even worse …” you continued talking to yourself, one to pass the time and to mentally prepare yourself for this conversation. The conversation in your head ends as soon as you notice the maroon BMW sitting in your driveway.

You watch as Steve climbs out of the car, also in his pjs, his usual well coiffed hair is all a mess.

“Steve” you call out his name.

He turns back to look at you and his face relaxes in relief. You both run towards each other, meeting halfway in front of your house. You engulf him in a hug, arms wrapping around his torso. You bury your face in his red sweater, relishing the smell of his scent. His large arms wrap around you, burying his head in your hair.

But the moment you let him hold you is the moment you break down. Steve feels the way your body stiffens then shakes in sobs, he pulls away, concerned etched all across his face.

“Hey hey, pretty girl, what's going on? Are you okay?” He questions, eyebrows etched together in concern.

His hands come up to your face, wiping away your tears.

“C-can we drive to the quarry?” You ask him.

Steve nods fervently, “Yes, yes of course”

He ushers you into his car, opening the passenger door and helping you in. He runs to the driver side and jumps in, igniting the engine and peels out of your driveway. Your tears don’t stop in the car as you watch how concerned Steve is, you hated yourself for dragging him into this, but he had to know.

Steve pulls up into the quarry, rocks cracking underneath his tires as he shuts off the engine. You couldn’t even look at him, you feel so ashamed.

He immediately turns to you, grabbing your hands.

“Please, tell me, what’s going on? I’ve been so worried, whatever it is - “ he pauses as he sees you shaking your head.

You lick your lips, “Steve you’re going to hate me” you whisper out.

“What? No I’m not how can I hate yo-“

“Steve I’m pregnant”

Another sob escapes your lips, “a-and I’m sorry for ruining your life, if - if you don’t want this baby I completely understand - “

His brown eyes go wide like saucers and his world goes mute for a second as whatever you say next sounds like nothing is coming out of your mouth. He hears the word sorry, and baby and he has to blink because he feels like his eyes are starting to well with tears. The wind has been knocked out of him and you’re sitting there crying your eyes out but to him you still look beautiful.

He needs a second to let his brain process this exact moment because he knows it’s a moment he’ll remember forever.

He lean backs, mouth slightly agape,

“You-you’re pregnant?” He stammers out.

You avoid his gaze, nodding your head slowly.

“I - I thought you were on birth control?” He questions.

You scoff, “Steve I think we were a bit caught up in the moment to have a discussion about that”

The car goes silent.

A father, he’s going to be someone’s father.

You watch him go through all different kinds of emotions within a span of a minute. You’re trying to read him but it’s hard, but you understand that he needs a couple of minutes to process the news.

“Listen if you don’t want the baby, I can find a clinic and we can - “

“No”

You freeze, with enough courage you manage to look up at him and you see his lips curl into the smallest smile. He leans towards you and takes your small hands into his large ones.

“I want to keep the baby” he states, his vision is zeroed in on you.

“B-but Steve, I don’t wanna ruin your life” you sputter out.

He knows a child would change his life, but at this point what does he have to lose? He’s always wanted to be a father, maybe this is the fire that he needs to better himself. For you and the baby.

“You’re not ruining my life…it takes two to tango ya know” he pauses, he then shrugs, “besides, I’ve always wanted to be a dad, I guess I’m just getting a head start”

A new wave of tears start to hit your eyes, you let out a choked sob, giving Steve a watery smile.

“We’re really doing this Harrington?”

His small smile curls into a large one, and he starts to feel a little giddy, excited. He responds by grabbing you, slamming his lips onto yours. It’s eager, passionate and full of hope.

He pulls away and rests his forehead on yours. Eyes completely lost in yours. There’s a weight lifted off your shoulder, your body sinks into his touch as it relaxes.

“Well I guess I have to make it official then huh?”

He pulls away, a shy look suddenly takes over his face as he takes your hands into his.

“I had this whole night planned for us but uh, guess we skipped a few more steps again but will you be my girlfriend?”

You let out a laugh, wiping away the remaining tears away from your face.

“Of course, yes, a million times yes” you answer, nodding to affirm your answer. A silly grin takes over his face. He grabs your face and slams his lips onto yours, pouring as much love and passion into it. Like a silent promise - I won’t leave you, I won’t ever leave you.

It has been a whirlwind of a couple of months but in this moment, this situation, it all felt right. Like puzzle pieces falling into its place, and for once the future suddenly felt a bit more hopeful and bright for the both of you.

—-

Hawkins, Indiana March 1986

Spring: bears come out of hibernation, flowers begin to bloom, the world starts to feel a little warmer.

And for the students of Hawkins High, it also meant spring break.

Your growing stomach was now around 5 months pregnant, the curve of your belly extended so that you couldn’t see your feet anymore. Steve was more than happy to accompany you to your doctor's appointments. You’ll never forget how his brown eyes filled with tears as you both heard the baby’s heartbeat for the first time.

The pregnancy if anything made you and Steve even closer. He took on the role of a soon to be doting father very seriously, always making sure you and the baby weren’t missing anything. You spent most nights at Steve’s house anyways since you didn’t like staying at your house. You would just tell your parents that you were staying at Robin’s so they wouldn’t muddle in your business. Steve’s parents weren’t around much anyways so it was easy to hide it from them as well.

The baby was healthy and was about the size of a mango - per Robin who was quickly reading her way through many pregnancy books (while Steve was slowly yet surely making his way through one) You had both decided that you didn’t want to know the gender when the option came up. The baby was a surprise anyways so may as well keep the gender a surprise as well.

Your belly started to poke out from most of your shirts so you were now restricted to mostly wearing Steve’s shirts around the house - but he didn’t mind. But even in your tousled hair and mood swings he still thought you were the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. He never missed an opportunity to hold you and caress you with kisses and affection. He never thought he could ever feel this way towards another person again, even more now that you were carrying his child.

The kids were surprised, yet excited for a new chapter in Steve’s life. Dustin got dibs on becoming godfather and best and number one uncle. Although you noticed recently he was spending more and more time away from Steve and more with a friend by the name of Eddie.

It was the day after Hawkins High championship basketball game. You and Steve had gone together to support both Lucas and Robin and had considered it a mini date night, grabbing milkshakes and burgers with Robin after the match.

You pushed the door open to Family Video, being greeted by a grinning Robin.

“Morning momma Harrington! And Harrington junior!” she exclaims behind the counter.

Steve pulls around the corner, a cart in his hands filled with VHS tapes. He giddily walks over to you and places a chaste kiss on your lips. His hands then move to your belly.

“How are my girls doing this morning?” He asks

“Steve, what happened to keeping it a surprise huh?” You tut at him.

“I know, I know but I feel it in my loins that the baby is a girl”

You hear Robin groan behind you, “Ew please don’t say loins, or anything to do with your junk”

You laugh, “Sorry Robs, I’ll try -“ you suddenly stop mid sentence. You instinctively grab your stomach as you feel flutters spread all throughout your belly. Steve instantly notices and stiffens, “Hey, hey, you okay?”

You reach out and grab his hand and place it on your stomach. You both stand in silence as the flutters return, Steve’s hands widely splayed on your stomach. His eyes grow large as he feels the kicks,

“S-she’s kicking” he stammers out. He turns to Robin with a wide goofy grin on his face “Robin, my baby is kicking!” He exclaims happily.

“Mango baby has legs!” She exclaims back.

“Mango baby definitely has legs” you pause again, wincing as the baby kicks you particularly hard at the sound of its fathers voice. “Oof Steve I think we have a future soccer player here”

“Or basketball player, or she could be a swimmer too, our baby can be whatever she wants to be” he said proudly.

“Also, guess what I found while at the library yesterday.” You rummage through your purse and pull out a VHS. Steve takes it from you, eyes scanning the front cover “Miracle of Life? No, no way I am not watching that”

Robin however, runs around the counter and snatches the tape out of his hand. “Oh hell yes jackpot! Steve, don't you want to know how baby mango is developing?”

“Baby Harrington is developing just fine as per her hard kicks” he counters.

“I got it mostly for Robin, she seems really into the whole baby development thing - she's really taking this whole aunt thing seriously” you mutter to Steve. He nods at your explanation. You both watch as Robin runs behind the counter to grab the remote.

“It’s all science Steve! It’s fascinating how a woman’s body goes through all these - “

As she turns on the tv, the three of you are suddenly caught off guard by the breaking news segment that was currently on.

“We’re in the Forest Hill trailer park in east Roane county. We don’t have a lot of details now but we can confirm that the body of a Hawkins high student was discovered early this morning …”

“Holy shit” Steve says.

“Oh my god, I wonder if this happened after the game?” You question.

You look between Robin and Steve, a concerned expression on both of their faces. Something in your gut was telling you that there was something more. Hawkins was a small town and you knew a murder would rock it to its core. You glanced up at Steve and he instinctively wrapped his arm around you, placing a kiss on top of your head. You rested into his touch, exhaling a large breath through your nose.

Looking back, you wish you could have prepared yourself for the chaos you would be thrown into the next day and how the Upside Down would grasp you and everyone you loved and cared about into a merciless chokehold.

#steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington x reader #Steve Harrington #stranger things

71 notes · View notes

kushielsmercy · 1 year

Text

Happy Thursday folks, we've almost made it. Have a small stand-alone snippit from a fic I started this summer and finally admitted I'm never coming back to. Sorry Joe, you're staying kidnapped.

***

“Enough, enough!” Nile laughingly pounds on Nicky’s back, dizzy. “Put me down!”

Nicky tightens his grip and spins them around twice more, faster, before giving in to her pleas and depositing her back onto the ground. Nile groans and falls onto her back, the Oregon sky spinning above her.

“Gotta work on your sea legs, kid,” Andy calls from across the fire, cackling.

Nicky turns on her, eyes twinkling. “Bella.’

“Don’t you dare,” Andy warns, holding her bottle of whiskey up in defense. She’s too late. Nicky swoops in, stooping to grab her thighs and lift her straight up, twirling in a circle. Andy does her best to look dignified, resting the whiskey on top of Nicky's head, waiting him out. He tilts his head back and she breaks, laughing as she pours liquor into his open mouth.

Joe appears above Nile, blocking out the night’s sky. He grins down at her, glitter raining down from his hair. “You can’t be done already, this is your holiday.” She refuses to sit up just yet, but makes a grabby motion upwards to appease him. He obligingly passes a half-burnt sparkler over and then taps his against hers in a mock toast.

“I still feel kind of weird celebrating,” she admits as Joe sits down beside her, watching Andy try to kick Nicky’s feet out from under him to steal back her cigarette.

He hums, tilting his head in acknowledgement. “You’ll have many years to contemplate. But who knows when you’ll see that again,” he nods to where Nicky and Andy have come to a compromise, Andy riding piggyback while she holds the cigarette to his lips.

Nile snorts, sitting up and motioning for the last sparkler. Nicky had shot off the last real firework hours earlier with childlike glee.

“I guess it is July 16th anyway,” she says, “we could be celebrating anything. Fuck it. I’m celebrating electricity.”

They’ve spent the last three months infiltrating a cult with known ties to a particularly nasty trafficking ring. Nicky and Andy were on the inside, trying to figure out where the money was coming from, while Joe and Nile had camped out in a shack a few miles away, listening to the others spit some particularly inventive slurs over the comms while they worked out the supply lines.

Point being, Nile’s not feeling real patriotic. But they passed a run-down stand a few miles back advertising 75% O f all Fire orks!, the f and w lost to time, and Nicky had insisted they stop - the man’s never met an explosive he didn’t like. It’s close enough to the solstice that Andy had her annual itch to get blacked out next to a dangerously high fire, so, here they are. Celebrating something that isn’t quite the Fourth of July, but isn’t exactly not the Fourth of July either, existing in a liminal space between Nile’s waning national allegiances and a desperate homesickness ten years hasn’t been enough to shake.

Joe, ever good at reading a room, lets the moment pass unremarked. He’s the best at that. Nicky gets caught off-guard by his own introspection, going suddenly quiet for days at a time. Andy doesn’t have much patience for the whole thing, she figures if she doesn’t know herself at this point then it’s all a lost cause anyway. Joe, on the other hand, thinks clearly, deeply, and at his own pace. Meaning he’ll probably have a lot to say on the complexities of celebrating problematic holidays a month from now, but that’s not going to stop him from making heart eyes at Nicky tonight.

Nicky makes a grab for the last of the whiskey and Andy dodges, yanking all of her weight to the left so that they collapse to the ground together, rolling out of the fall. She springs up and gets a foot on Nicky’s chest, hamming it up as she downs the last of the bottle in victory.

“My love, avenge me!” Nicky mimes dying, doing an appallingly poor job despite all his experience.

“Ah, but then who would carry on your memory?” Joe laments.

Nile knocks her shoulder against his. “Looks like we’ve found the limits of your love at last,” she tells Nicky. “It was that gas station coffee.”

Joe nods solemnly. “I can still feel its poison in my veins.” He lifts a hand shakily. “Even now, I’m too frail to walk.”

Nicky bats Andy’s leg away, moving to stand up with the single-minded focus of the very drunk. “Good. Then it will be less work for me to get you on your back.” He struggles to get himself upright, which doesn’t bode well for his luck standing up anything else.

Nile gags out of principle. By this point she’s all but immune to finding the two of them on any surface, at any time of the day, but she tries to remember she’s supposed to be offended at least once a week.

Nicky collapses onto the ground beside them, rolling over to put his head on Joe’s lap. “I’ve missed you,” he says.

Joe runs his fingers through Nicky’s hair. “And I, you.”

These days, Nile knows that if she wakes first up and tastes rain, she should make sure Nicky has lemongrass tea. She knows Joe has never kept a pair of matching socks for more than a week but hates when one gets a hole in its heel, and that Andy loves cosmopolitans more than she will ever admit. She knows these people inside and out, but then occasionally they’ll do the most mundane shit and it’ll sneak up and hit her all again how long nine-hundred years really is.

“Don’t you ever worry you’ll get tired of each other?” Nile asks absently, mostly joking.

Nicky squints up at her, blinking through the alcohol. He pokes Joe in the chest. “She’s not making any sense.”

Joe flicks his ear in admonishment. “Stop teasing her.”

“No no, I’m serious,” Nile says, realizing as she says it that she is. Also possibly more drunk than she thought. “Like, what happens if you break up one day. How would that even work? I know you guys have the most epic romance in all of history, or whatever, but what happens if that ends? Am I going to have to swap weekends?”

“What’s romance have to do with it?” Nicky asks, propping himself up onto one elbow.

Joe groans. “See what you’ve done?”

Nicky hushes him. “I do not - choose - Joe. Choice is irrelevant.”

Nile looks to Joe, who shrugs. “The last time I tried to remember my wife, some years ago, she ended up having Nicky eyes, his face,” he reaches down playfully, “his cock.”

Nicky grinds up into his touch, relaxed and unashamed.

“I am right here.” Nile pretends to shield her eyes.

Nicky makes a dismissive noise. “I would burn the world to the ground for Joe, and it would be an act of self-defense.”

Joe makes a wounded noise then ducks down, pulling Nicky’s up to meet him halfway. Nile’s seen this show before, too much of this show before, and knows that’s her cue to leave. Or, in this case, wander the twenty feet away to where Andy’s set herself up with ‘smores.

“They’ll fall asleep soon.” Andy passes her a sharpened stick with a marshmallow already speared.

Nile shrugs. “It’s sweet, in a very X-rated kind of way.” She watches the marshmallow slowly brown, keeping her eyes carefully on the fire. “I just, I sometimes wonder if I’ll ever get something like that, you know?”

“I don’t have a damn clue,” Andy says, reassuring as always. “But the world’s probably safer if you don’t.”

#the old guard #joe/nicky #nicky/joe #andromache the scythian #nile freeman #nicolo di genova #yusuf al kaysani #andy the old guard #joe x nicky #nicky x joe #immortal husbands #shielwrites

197 notes · View notes

strawwritesfic · 8 days

Text

Vongola Guardians Taking Care of You Headcanons

Hey, guys! I'm sick again! So you know what that means...dopey headcanons about fictional guys taking care of you, their S/O, when you're sick!

I did it for the Avengers last time, so let's apply it to my current hyperfixation this time around.

Note that this is all regarding the adult versions of the cast, and we are not working with A) COVID (because it's too real) or B) The in-universe original TYL!Time Line (because I don't feel like dealing with the whole Millifiore situation).

Tsuna Sawada

Tsuna's got a lot of work to do, running the Vongola, but that doesn't mean he's going to ignore you when you're sick. In fact, you being sick is probably enough of a distraction that he's not going to get that work done anyway--and he's definitely not above using you getting sick as an excuse to get away from his responsibilities for a little while. If it's really something important, of course he'll do it. Otherwise, he's with you all the way. Unfortunately, Tsuna's kind of useless as a caregiver. His heart is in the right place, but he's not entirely sure what to do, and if he tries to do something, it typically winds up spilled all over you. What he can do is that neat trick with his sky flame on his finger on your forehead. When you can't sleep, that's your ticket to dreamland. Except that once he did that, and you slept for two straight days. Everyone was very worried. Reborn congratulated him on sending his S/O into a coma. When you did wake up, you felt much better, but he's reluctant to try it again. Good thing that his company is enough to make you feel a little better most of the time.

Hayato Gokudera

This is the guy that researches every single symptom you have. He's got medical textbooks. He's got WebMD's symptom checker. He's got...books on exorcisms? So not everything he's going to try is necessarily scientifically accurate. And he's not going to let you rest either, because he's got an enormous whiteboard covered in diagrams of all his research. He even wants to dictate the way you sleep, because he's figured out the only way to do it that will actually get you better! And if you don't let him try to get rid of the evil spirits inhabiting you at least once, you're probably going to wake up in the middle of the night surrounded by candles while he stands by the bed chanting. At least the minute Tsuna needs him, he's gone, so you'll get some peace and quiet.

But Gokudera does make some amazing okayu. It's the worst okayu you've ever tasted. At first, you might wonder if Bianchi's the one that made it. But even though it tastes incredibly awful, it does actually make you feel better. it almost makes him playing nurse worth it from time to time.

Ryohei Sasagawa

Ryohei has probably never had a sick day in his entire life. If he had a cold, he just EXTREMED it out of his system, and that's exactly what he expects you to do, too. You can't let the cold win! You have to get up! You have to get up before sunrise! You have to go for a ten-mile run before sunrise! You have to go for a ten-mile run while carrying cinderblocks in both hands before sunrise! Show your illness how EXTREME you are, and you will never be sick again a day in your life! He's not making you do all of this alone. Ryohei is right there with you, doing the exact same thing but with a lot more enthusiasm. It's exausting.

Thankfully, he's got Kyoko around. Once she realizes what's going on, she can rescue you. She knows how to take care of sick people, and she'll get you set up in a nice, dark room with whatever you need, and she and Haru will make sure that you eat healthy and get plenty of rest--because, let's face it, you're probably worse off now than you were before Ryohei got his hands on you. You will live, but it might be a good idea in the future to call in sick to your S/O next time you've got a tickle in your throat.

Lambo

This 15-year-old guy has literally no clue what to do with a sick S/O. Heck, he has literally no clue what to do with himself when he's sick. He's so covered in girls your age anyway, so what are the chances that he notices that you're slogging your way through your day? Well, he does. That doesn't mean he's going to do anything about it...until I-Pin notices as well and chastises him for being so heartless.

And the truth is, he cares about you, and he hates to see you sick. He's not great at doing much more than playing gopher...but, again, he's 15. What else is he supposed to do? So at least for the day he'll get you whatever you want. Chocolate ice cream? Done. Ramen from I-Pin place of work? Absolutely. He consumes half of it, too, and he moans a lot about how gross it is, but ultimately you'd probably be a lot more lonely recuperating by yourself than with him around.

Takeshi Yamamoto

Does Yamamoto even realize you're sick? That is the question. He's known you long enough to know when something's up, but he also trusts you. When you tell him no, you're fine, please just go get beaten up by an Italian man with a sword like he planned, he's not going to argue. Yamamoto knows that you're tough, and if you don't want his help, he's not going to force it on you. He respects you too much to baby you.

On the other hand, on his way home from sparring with Squalo, he's going to pick up a few things. First, he's going to go to the store, and he's going to grab a couple boxes of medicine that sound like they'll help what he thought you sounded like you had that morning. Then he's going to go by his dad's restaurant and pick up a ton of sushi. If you're still not feeling well when he gets home, then he's got you covered. But if you still want to pretend that you're fine, then he just keeps the medicine in his coat pocket for later. He's fine pretending that you're fine if that's what you want. At least there's good food for a quiet night in so you can rest.

Mukuro Rokudo

I mean, as long as he needs you for something, he'll probably care that your sick. Your organs are still in the right place. There's probably not a good way to illusion away your cold and flu symptoms. So if you're fine, he's probably got better things to be doing, like plotting how to finally possess Tsuna and start a war within the mafia!

Oh, what? Really? You want him to say? Well, then, maybe he can put off the whole bloody war within the mafia thing off for another day or two. After all, it's been ten years and he still hasn't got around to it! But hopefully you know that you're in for a lot of getting your own juice bottles, or at least having him torment you about getting your juice bottles until your fever breaks.

Kyoya Hibari

Hibari doesn't get sick, because being sick is weak. But now that he's older, he can appreciate that no one is as strong as he is, so even his S/O is going to get sick from time to time. He is not going to baby you for choosing to be so weak as to catch a cold, however. You probably won't be seeing much of Hibari while you're ill. He's got important business to attend to.

But without saying it, he does make it clear he cares. He'll adjust your pillow in the morning before he leaves. He'll make sure there's plenty of tea in the cupboard. He'll send Kusakabe to check on you regularly. And since you did decide to throw your lot in with Hibari, this radio silence isn't exactly unheard of or unwelcome. Just make sure none of your other friends are around for a visit if and when he decides to come look in on you himself.

#fan fic #straw writes #reader insert #headcanon #katekyo hitman reborn #khr #reborn #khr x reader #khr x you #khr x y/n #khr reader insert #katekyo hitman reborn x reader #katekyo hitman reborn x you #katekyo hitman reborn x y/n #katekyo hitman reborn reader insert

17 notes · View notes

asmomyluv · 10 months

Text

ATHLETIC MC (DEMON BROS)

Just like the title says! This is my first post lol so please give feedback!

SFW, GN!Reader

Warnings: lillll mashocism for Levi, simpy boys but nothing explicit 🙂

Lucifer, volleyball

The game starts and Lucifer is in the seat closest to the court. He observes the court to him the net is short and as MC stands at the serving line he can't fathom how a human is meant to get the ball all the way to the other side, he’s even more confused when MC stands at the back wall of the gym several feet away from the serving line. As much as he wants to instruct them to stand closer he stays and watches silently. He can already feel the pride radiating from MC as they toss the ball high into the air and run jumping to smack the ball to the other side of the court. MC gets the point as the ball is just barely in the court. MC’s teammates cheer for them but their eyes go straight to Lucifer. They wave to him as they retreat back to serve again. And Lucifer is just as proud of his human as they are of themselves.

Mammon, track

Mammon’s got some serious money bet on this race he thinks, and he has no worry knowing it's HIS human out there. After all The Great Mammon knows how to make a bet and he knows his human has this in the bag. So the race start and MC is already ahead, and yea he expected them to be good but not this good. How can a human be THAT fast? The money he bet completely leaves his mind and he runs to the starting line, he honestly doesn’t care about everyone yelling at him to back off, and as soon as MC crosses the finish line there in his arms.

Leviathan, boxing

(idk much on boxing srry) Levi had been mesmerized the entire time. Sure every time you got hit he felt a little irritation bubble inside of him, but he’d be lying if he said that seeing you with a little blood on the side of your lip and the grin on your face after a connecting hit didn’t make him feel warm and fuzzy inside. He had imagined several scenarios during the match, from you protecting him against your opponent to you hitting him like that. He loved both ideas equally.

Satan, equestrian

Satan loves cats their the best animal simply put. But ever since he met MC’s horse he wanted to see them ride. It was a beautiful animal and he saw the chemistry they had so when he was invited to one of MC’s he got there early and brought a book with him specifically some fun facts about horses and he was ecstatic to see that cats enjoy horses company. So when it finally began he kept his eye on you and the way you carried yourself on such a big animal. You won and he went to the stable to meet you as previously planned. You approached him still in uniform atop your horse and he smiled up at you “You did incredible, both of you”

Asmodeus, cheer

The competition was about to start, and the second the lights came on his eyes shot to you. You did jumps, flips, and stunts that took his breath away. His eyes followed the way your body moved and he fell even more in love with you, if that’s possible. You hit every beat and the way the crowd cheered as you moved closer to the front had him swooning in the final beats of the song you were tossed into a stunt lifting your leg to the back of your head before you were spun around and switch it to the side of your head and with that the song ended and the lights dimmed. With the image of you seared behind his eyes as he tried to remember every detail.

Beelzelbub, soccer

Beel had settled down with his snacks ready for the long game. Being an athlete himself he appreciated your skill on the field. Beel loved everything you did but seeing how happy you were to score each goal put a huge smile on his face. You were better than everyone on the field by miles, all the hard work you had put in was showing. It was almost the end of the game and Beel was on the edge of his seat, he only had one slice of pizza left and he was saving it for you. You scored the last goal and ran off the field to your teammates. Like a scene out of a movie they lifted you up and as your eyes met his and he waved you were more excited to meet up with your favorite ginger than celebrate your win. And besides Beel was the best

Belphegor, basketball

Just watching made him tired, so much movement the running and jumping, and the fact that you actually have to pay attention to the game. And everything moved so fast, honestly, he was half asleep until he heard your name from the announcer. You had the most points scored in the game by half time, and now he was awake. And once he actually paid attention he was intrigued and quite impressed. He felt a certain way each time someone on the opposing team bumped into him and even worse when the ref made a bad call on him. But by the end of the game, he was following the ball, and naturally you with his eyes attentively. And when you tossed the ball from half court and it went in the crowd screamed your praises and he couldn’t wait for you to be done so he could celebrate you himself.

#asmomyluv obeyme obey me obey me shall we date obey me x mc obey me x reader obey me fluff obey me sfw obey me lucifer obey me mammon obey

58 notes · View notes

tenshi-agerasia · 2 months

Text

ensemble stars characters as things i experienced on a cruise to mexico

i'm waiting for a flight that i'm ten hours early for so here's some rare 鬼畜 text content . incorrect quotes and imagined scenarios, long post under the cut

starting off with some incorrect quotes

rei: can you walk?

eichi: i think so, i'm much more energetic nowadays-

rei: no you're not. shiratori-kun, get him a wheelchair, we're skipping all the lines at the airport‎‎

‎-

eichi, getting physically patted down by tsa in a small dark room because his wheelchair couldn't go through the full-body scanner and it was too much physical effort to stand up: this is all sakuma-kun's fault

aira: tenshouin-senpai! you almost left your louis vuitton designer scarf at the security checkpoint! what if someone had stolen it?!

eichi: thank you, shiratori-kun! but it's fake

akatsuki in the elevator with a group of strangers

stranger, in a thick southern accent: so what're y'all up to t'night?

silence

souma stares straight ahead. he thinks the stranger isn't talking to them.

stranger, feeling slightly awkward: so, y'all stayin' in your room?

kuro: um... yeah

afterwards

keito: how did he know that our room doesn't have a window

kuro: ???

keito: ??? he said something about our stateroom not having a window like his

kuro: you mean when he asked if we were staying in our room?

hokuto: how much money have you spent at the arcade

makoto: uhhhh... i don't know, i'm not good at math

mao: how much did each of the figurine blind bags cost you

makoto: four plays is $4.50 and i get an average of 87 tickets at the piano game. the gachapon is 750 tickets each, and 750 / 87 = around 8.62 plays, and 8.62 x 4.50 / 4 = $9.6975

wataru: iiiiiit's..... showtiiiiiime....

yuta: can we leave

hinata: the waiters are dancing now, we can't just leave

one minute later

yuta: can we leave

hinata: i'd love to see you try to leave in this situation

three minutes later

yuta: can we leave

hinata: QUICK THEY STOPPED MAKE A RUN FOR IT

jun: i don't like my new haircut

jin, shaking his head knowingly: yeah you shouldn't have cut it on a cruise

jun: i lied. i love my new haircut it means the world to me

jun, still struggling to come to terms with his new haircut: now i kind of look like the scaramouche guy from genshin

hiyori: i was thinking more like edna from the incredibles

some people that i encountered!

kaoru as the guy that (successfully) invited one of the waitresses to dance

yuzuru as the sweet lady who asked me how to swipe her room card for the arcade because her son (tori) wanted to play a game

ritsu as my mom who spent most of the time sleeping

rinne as the tour guide that would add "rawr" to the end of his jokes

tsumugi as the poor woman who got stuck in a hammock and had to ask me for help

yuta as my brother who i forced to go on a rusty cable sliding thing you could only hold on to by hand, only for it to get stuck before it reached the middle

hinata as me who dragged the rope attached to the handle and tried to run (on sand) to pull yuta/my brother on the cable slide, only for him to fall (on sand)

rei as the people who watched and laughed

yuzuru as me playing the discord golf game with my friends on vc, only to get screwed over by the lag from cruise wifi

anzu as my friends who were still at home and took this chance to win by miles

makoto as my brother and i when we made one of the arcade machines run out of tickets to dispense three times

makoto as my brother who dominated the entire leaderboard of a piano game with his high scores

tomoya as my mom who was upset that she didn't get to see any flamingos up close

mao as the guest services guy who kept getting interrupted by phone calls that lasted less than 50 seconds

tsumugi as the worker who asked me "do you speak mandarin or chinese?"

adonis as my dad who would only eat meat because "it's more worth it that way"

hiyori as the hair stylist that gave me the scaramouche/edna haircut and kept calling me "madame" and insisted that i trust his vision (he was a lovely guy, i just wanted it more short :()

anzu as my aunts that were constantly trying to video call my mom on wechat, only for the call to disconnect because cruise wifi sucks

mayoi as the dinner waiter that jumpscared my mom on the lunch buffet line

midori as the buffet worker who kept sorting the lettuce leaves by size and color

rinne as the guy at the casino who told a worker he wanted to "have a gambling addiction responsibly"

tori and tsukasa as the little girls who tried to convince their mom to let them eat only cake for lunch

kaoru as the white guy who tried to engage in a conversation with me in the elevator but only made the situation more awkward

souma as the guy who got into an argument with someone (kaoru) over whether the fish he ate was bass or salmon (it was salmon with some bass)

shinobu as the boy who ran up and down the stairs yelling that he was looking for ducks (?)

wataru as the russian lady in charge of the dining room who would loudly whisper "iiiiiit's...... showtiiiiiiime" into a microphone every evening

tomoya as the waiter with a tired, dead inside expression who still had to dance for the russian lady's "showtime"

adonis as the guy that woke up at six in the morning to run laps around the deck for some unknown reason

wataru as the guy who posed for a picture like he was pinching the setting sun

hokuto as the guy taking the picture, but from an angle that made wataru look like he was pinching nothing and standing there stupidly

promo time ~ preorders for the niki's cookbook fanzine are open until march 12! i made some recipes for it, go check it out :)

#i saw someone with a “cyberwar veteran” tag and a “taylor swift 2024” election shirt at the airport #i cannot be certain of their pronouns but i can raise my eyebrow and go “oh they're one of those” /neutral #i regret going on this trip #ensemble stars #i get home at one in the morning sob #enstars #enstars textpost #we were like the only asian people on the cruise and wow were we stared at a lot #enstars incorrect quotes #not proofread i've been awake for too long #midori takamine #shinobu sengoku #rei sakuma #eichi tenshouin #aira shiratori #hell dorm #i love them #couldn't even read lofter or ao3 on the cruise #didn't even get another eisekai chapter written #and i brought my tablet only for it to stay in my bag unused :(#my hair stylist was apparently a hairdresser for famous bollywood actors but my mom doesn't believe him #i look like a flat mushroom head now #souma kanzaki #kuro kiryu #keito hasumi #i watched joy ride on the plane #it was pretty good #hokuto hidaka #makoto yuki #mao isara

16 notes · View notes

renjunphile · 1 year

Text

mixtape #17: track 1. with you, i'd dance in a storm | choi seungcheol / s.coups

word count ꕤ 4.6k pairing ꕤ seventeen's choi seungcheol / s.coups x female reader

tags and warnings ꕤ childhood friends to lovers!au, brother's best friend!au, just straight fluff, basically no plot just fluff

songspo ꕤ fearless [fearless taylor's version] synopsis ꕤ he's the typical boy next door; the one your mother would dream that you would end up with from the moment he helps you up after falling off the new bike you were yet to learn to ride. you wish you'd end up with him too, but you're separated by hundreds of miles for college and the first summer back will also be one of new experiences with a familiar face.

author's note ꕤ i'm so sorry it took me so long to get another part out :( i'm back at school and it's taking up so much of my time but i really want to keep writing, so i will try my best! this, however, is not my best work but i really just wanted to get something out. nonetheless, i hope you enjoy :)

hyung line masterlist | maknae line masterlist

ꕤ

You haven't been home in almost a whole year; expensive train tickets and your parents' desire to come to see you instead preventing you from returning even for the national holidays. At the end of your first year away at college, you had managed to take a leave from your coffee shop job in order to return home for an undefined amount of time before you returned for the fall.

Upon taking your first steps back on home soil, you noted the air smelled cleaner- something you and your lungs so dearly missed in the big city. You were excited to be back with all the memories of all your favourite activities to do in the town flooding your thoughts as you made your way to the exit. It was 8 PM now, but maybe tomorrow you would take a walk along the cliffs and down to the shore to feel the sea breeze on your skin again. Though expansive, the Han river could just not compare to the feeling of the wind and the sounds of the sea crashing onto the rocks.

"Welcome back," a familiar voice snaps you from the plans you were crafting in your head and you were left to face your twin brother. He takes your bags from your grip and opens the back of his truck.

"Jeonghan," you smiled softly. It had been a while since you felt the familiarity this town and the people in it gave you, "I thought Dad was going to pick me up."

"I was already out and about," he shrugged, wrapping you in a warm hug, "How was the trip?"

You clambered into his passenger seat and snort lightly at how the interior hasn't changed; peeling and always cluttered, "It was okay. Had someone sit next to me for half the journey so it was a little bit squished, but otherwise, it was quite quick. My bags were a pain to get on and off the train and around the station."

Jeonghan chuckled, "If I didn't know any better, I would have thought you were moving back. What did you even bring?"

"It's just my clothes and some shoes!" you defended, "To be honest, I might have overpacked."

"Might?" he gave you the side eye before starting the ignition, "Anyway, they're waiting for us to get home. Mom prepared a huge feast; I don't know how we're going to eat all of that!"

"More for us to eat tomorrow as leftovers," you shrugged and placed your head on the cold window, watching the streets that you grew up in. The problem with Seoul was that on most days, you didn't know where you were going. You'd always have to have directions up or look them up beforehand, but in this little town, you could probably navigate from one side to the other blindfolded, "How's your job?"

He sighed softly, "It's okay. A job's a job and at least I'm earning money. It's strange to live like an adult when just one or two years ago, I was running around all crazy. Now I have to think about my job. Like when I make plans, I have to consider that I have to wake up early the next day."

While Jeonghan was your twin brother, it didn't mean that he had to follow your path into Seoul to attend university. He was incredibly smart and was able to find a well-paying apprenticeship in the nearest city, which meant that he was able to come home often- almost every weekend or during the week if he felt particularly homesick.

"Well, it must be nice to have some money you know you worked hard for," you replied, "I know that each day at school is just more debt to my name for future me to clear just for a piece of paper. It's okay, I enjoy it and I've made good friends."

"You need to let me meet your friends!" Jeonghan reminded you of a promise you made a few months ago.

"But you're going to try and date them," you groaned, before noticing that you were already pulling up into your neighbourhood.

"Well, what's wrong with that?" Jeonghan whined, "I'd let you date my friends!"

"Jeonghan," you snapped warningly at him.

"What?" he said innocently, meeting your threatening eyes, "Fine. Fine. I'm sorry for bringing that up. Let's go inside before the food goes cold. I'll take out your suitcases later."

You hopped out of the truck and trudged ahead in front of Jeonghan. Luckily, the door was already open.

"Mom? Dad? I'm home!" you kicked off your shoes like normal, your brain failing to acknowledge the extra pairs of shoes.

"Ah, our favourite daughter," your dad cooed, entering the hallway from the kitchen to engulf you in a hug.

"Your only daughter," Jeonghan huffed behind you, "Your favourite son is also here."

"We see you every weekend, unfortunately," your mother takes you in after your father, "Besides, our other favourite son is here too and we haven't seen him in a year."

At that moment, you don't think your body has ever frozen and shut down like that ever before. You don't even think you blinked at all for a good minute.

Jeonghan's voice went low behind you, "What? What do you mean?"

"We invited the Choi's around!" your mother grinned, "Come and say hello. They've been waiting for you to get back so we can start eating!"

Jeonghan frowned, seeing you still frigid, and he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, gently guiding your feet in the direction of the kitchen, "It's okay. I'm sorry; I didn't know either."

You shook your head to snap yourself out of your trance, "I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Aw, our Y/N!" Mrs. Choi rose from her seat and approached you to give you a hug and a kiss on the cheek, "Look at you! So gorgeous. What happened to you in the city? You've always been beautiful, don't get me wrong, but you look so grown up now!"

You giggled at her compliments, refusing to look past her figure, "I had to find an outlet to relieve my stress! I guess expensive beauty treatments and investing in good products became my retail therapy."

"You must have a boyfriend now, huh?" Mrs. Choi returned back to her seat and Mr. Choi gives you a happy wave.

You take your normal seat around the table, Jeonghan beside you, "No. Not found the right person yet."

You look up and Seungcheol is in front of you. It's weird seeing him again. The only way you can describe it is familiar- just like everything else in this town.

"Hi Y/N," he greeted softly. It's a tone you know too well and it's one just for you.

"Hi, Seungcheol."

"Well, let's eat?" Jeonghan sliced through the tension that never even developed between you and the man in front of you.

Dinner continued without a hitch. Your parents and the Choi's were incredibly talkative and somehow never ran out of topics to converse even after 2 decades of knowing each other and Jeonghan would fill in any gaps and divert any unwanted attention away from you. You spent the dinner looking mostly at your plate or your hands and only answered when you were directed to. It wasn't that Seungcheol's presence made you uncomfortable; it just surprised you. It was only your first day back and you were already being confronted by your previous grievances. Give a girl some time to breathe, would you?

"You children go do whatever," your mother shooed the three of you away once dessert was devoured, "We'll clean up here and crack open a bottle of wine."

"I'm going to get my bags from the trunk," you excused yourself without looking anyone in the eye.

You knew you couldn't make a quick escape as soon as you heard another chair scraping just as you crossed the threshold out of the kitchen. You didn't look back until you were at Jeonghan's truck, propping up the back.

"Let me," Seungcheol nudged your shoulder aside and snakes a grip around your suitcase handles.

"Thanks," you mumbled under your breath, hopefully, loud enough for him to hear.

"Anything for my favourite girl," you could hear a grin in his tone, but your breath hitched at the unexpected endearment, "How is my favourite girl, by the way?"

"I'm okay. School is school. The city is big," you answered reluctantly, "Am I still your favourite girl?"

"You'll always be my favourite girl," he replied nonchalantly, "Ever since you were 7 and stumbling off a bike."

"We're not all prodigies learning to ride a bike at 5 like you," you huffed, fighting the urge to smile at the fond memory.

"I was talented, wasn't I?" he chucked to himself while you shut the trunk door. He was lifting your two suitcases while you had managed to fight for custody over your duffle bag that he had also insisted he could carry.

While walking past your living room, you had noticed Jeonghan on the couch with a quirked eyebrow and you pieced together that he was once again scheming and probably made an executive decision not to follow Seungcheol out. You gave him a pointed stare and he pretended that the painting above the fireplace was the most interesting in the world and as if it hadn't been there his entire lifetime.

Seungcheol managed to wrestle your suitcases up the stairs and into your room which had been untouched for a year for the most part. All your mother did was dust the surfaces every month or so when the dust began to settle and form a coat.

"Ah, still the same," you muttered to yourself in reminiscing.

"The most Y/N place in this world," Seungcheol smiled, looking at all of your decorations on the walls. He had been in your room a few times before, less and less as the three of you grew up, but the picture of your room had begun to fade in his mind over time.

"You can just leave my bags there on the floor," you called over to him, "I'm a bit tired, so I might just unpack. You can catch up with Hannie downstairs if you want."

You're not dumb; you know that Seungcheol and Jeonghan have been in contact the past year that the three of you have been apart. However, you weren't at all prepared to see Seungcheol so soon and you were yet to gather your feelings and solidify an action plan on how to deal with him this summer.

He picked up on your tone, "Okay. It was good to see you again, Y/N. I'll talk to you soon?"

You gave him a tight-lipped smile, "Sure. You too, Seungcheol."

ꕤ

The next morning was a little strange for you. You had expected to wake up in your 14th-floor apartment bedroom, but instead, you were greeted with baby pink walls and posters of age-old boy bands plastering the walls. You should take those down soon, you note to yourself. Nonetheless, it's a nice feeling to wake up in your cozy bed and the bustle of your parents and brother downstairs making breakfast on a Sunday morning is a comforting presence.

You did your normal morning routine and changed into attire appropriate for long walks on the beach before emerging downstairs.

"How was your sleep, honey?" your mother placed a cup of coffee in front of you, just the way you liked it.

"It was good. Strange to wake up here again," you laughed, voice still groggy, "What are you doing up so early?"

"Cheol and I are going down to the pier," Jeonghan said, "Wanna join?"

"Nah, wouldn't want to interrupt your little date," you teased, "I'm going to go to the beach too."

"You're so annoying," he looked at your arm while rolling his eyes, "Do you wanna just catch a ride with us then in the truck? We can leave whenever you want; Cheol's on the porch."

"Why didn't you invite him in?"

"I was about to head out, but we can wait?" Jeonghan explained.

You pondered on the choice; would you rather sit in a car with Seungcheol for less than 5 minutes and save the walk down to the beach or curse yourself to walking all that way when all you were going to do on the stretch of coast was walk anyway?

"Okay, let me just finish my coffee," you nodded to your half-full mug, "Go wait outside."

He whined a little, telling you to hurry up, but following your order nonetheless as he slung his belt bag across his torso. Your mother hums a tune as she takes the seat across from you with a full breakfast spread in front of her. She let you steal a piece of bacon from her plate before she raised that mischievous eyebrow at you.

"What?" you squinted your eyes at her.

"The summer fairground is up for a few more days. You and Seungcheol should go soon."

"Mother!" you wailed, "I know what you're doing!"

"I'm not doing anything," she smiled innocently, "You and Seungcheol have always loved going to the fairground. You haven't missed it your whole life and we've all been a few times, so make sure you invite him, okay? Otherwise, I'll tell him myself."

You just rolled your eyes and washed up your now-empty coffee cup, "I'll see you later. Should we be back for lunch?"

"My baby still wants her mother to make her food, aw," your mother cooed, dropping a kiss on your cheek as you stomped out, "But it's okay if you find other plans- if you know what I mean."

With another groan, you opened and slammed the door behind you, forgetting the two boys sat on the bench on the porch waiting for you.

"9 AM and already so grumpy?" Seungcheol chuckled from beside you, "Some things never change."

You had jumped from his sudden presence but began to relax as the sun bathed over your body as you walked out to the car, "I'm not grumpy. Maybe you're just too happy for 9 in the morning."

"What's wrong with that, sunshine?" he retorted, getting in the passenger seat of Jeonghan's truck.

It felt nostalgic- the three of you in one car, with Jeonghan and Seungcheol bickering in the front and you in the back staring out of the window and lost in a daze. Ever since Seungcheol got his licence first, your favourite activities changed from bus hopping and cycling through the towns to road trips in the surrounding area.

"What are you going to do at the beach?" Seunghceol's head was leaning against the window.

"Just walk around for a bit. Maybe get some ice cream. Haven't been here for a year so I miss it," you hummed.

"It misses you too."

"Dude," Jeonghan gave his best friend a puzzled look.

Seungcheol cleared his throat, "I was just saying the seafront businesses probably miss their economy booster back there."

"It's not my fault that the food there is amazing. We all know it!" the two of them hummed along with you in agreement.

The rest of the short car ride was spent mainly in conversational silence, listening to the local news on the radio. Jeonghan quickly parked up and soon enough, you were parting ways with them.

Long walks on the beach left you a lot of time with your own thoughts, which were exceptionally busy the last day or so considering the return of certain people in your life.

Choi Seungcheol had always and forever been your brother's best friend. They met in the sandbox in kindergarten and had been attached at the hip ever since. But if Jeonghan was an extension of you, and you of him, what should Choi Seungcheol have been to you?

For a while, he felt like your brother too- protecting you from taunts and teases growing up in school and pushing you on your bike around the field when you were learning. Jeonghan had been your evil twin and Seungcheol had been your protective one.

Your relationship with the boy next door probably started changing in high school. Boys, drama, school - it was all just a blur to you, but Choi Seungcheol was always a presence in your life. He chased away the boys that intended to break your heart and would walk you home in the winter months when it was dark by 3 pm and Jeonghan was training in every sport the school had to offer. It was Choi Seungcheol that would bring you snacks during your intense exam periods and he would sit and study with you and motivate you. At first, you thought he was just continuing his brotherly role, and maybe he was, but teenage you began to see it differently. It was the compliments, the umbrella sharing, the jacket-lending; your relationship had changed.

And then the end of senior year came and he had smiled next to you, an arm around your shoulders as you posed in your gowns in front of your proud parents at graduation. And then he was miles and miles away from you, instead of being right next door.

Before you know it, your legs had taken you to your favorite ice cream shop a considerable walk from where you were dropped off and you couldn't help but get your favourite flavour and wallow some more in your thoughts. The shop was pretty busy with tourists this time of year, but you were always glad to see the business booming. You had smiled gratefully at the cashier working today- a friend of yours named Chan- who gave you an extra scoop of ice cream.

You had no idea what to do. You were going to be home for an extended amount of time. How could you be around Seungcheol while your heart tortured you?

ꕤ

"Sunshine," your window was wide open, the breeze flowing pleasantly into your room as you read on your bed, "Y/N!"

You wrestled the smile off your face as you poked your head out of the window, "You can just text, you know that right?"

"Where's the fun in that?" his smiling face was already sticking out of his window.

"What do you want?"

"What are you doing today? I'm bored already. Jeonghan's at work, right?"

"Yeah, he is. Maybe you should get a summer job, how about that?" you teased, "Anyway, I'm not doing anything. Just reading."

"I work all year at college; why would I make myself suffer here at home too?" he said, "Do you want to go to the fair? My mom said that it's getting taken down soon."

You glanced up at the sky, washed in a layer of light grey, "I don't know; it might rain, right?"

"Oh well. Summer rain is fun. We'll be quick, yeah? Maybe we'll miss it," his tone was practically pleading and it took everything in you to giggle at his adorable traits.

"Fine. I'll be out in like 20 minutes," you rolled your eyes playfully, secretly delighted that Seungcheol had been the one to ask you to go instead of the other way around.

Less than half an hour later, the two of you were buying your tickets to get around the fairground and Seungcheol was basically brushing shoulders with you.

"I love the fairground," Seungcheol mumbled happily next to you, eyes scanning the rides.

"Should we do our usual plan? Bumper cars, Waltzer, swings, rollercoasters, and then Ferris wheel?" you recalled the route you usually took around the park.

"Of course. It's the best-devised plan and it always will be," Seungcheol's hand snakes around your wrist as he dragged you towards the bumper cars and you just have to pretend that it's not setting off the butterflies that have been caged away for a year, "Don't worry. I'll still hold your hand on the rollercoasters if you want."

The two of you are too busy with the adrenaline rush you're getting on the rides to even make substantial conversation about anything other than how fun or bad the ride you just went on was. You had stopped for some classic cotton candy, churros, and drinks, but even then, you were scoffing them down in order to get to the biggest rollercoaster before the rain hit the ground.

"I think it's raining now," you sighed as you looked up at the darkened sky.

"It's okay, we're done with all the rides now, right? Just the Ferris wheel left and it's covered carriages, so that's good. Let's go," Seungcheol urged you toward the middle of the fair. The Ferris wheel was your favourite attraction- it gave you an amazing view of your seaside town and you could see for miles and miles out to sea from the top.

The line was fairly short, considering the weather, but Seugncheol had opened up an umbrella above the two of you. Clambering into the carriage, you found it strange how Seungcheol had opted to sit squished next to you instead of across from you. You found it even weirder when he pried your fingers apart to slot his own in between them.

"Cheol? This is not a rollercoaster," you murmured shyly as the wheel began turning slowly.

"I know," he was looking out of the window already, "It's just nice though, isn't it?"

Your heart melted and sank at the same time, "Cheol..."

"We don't have to talk about it," Seungcheol uttered, a sigh filling up the silence as he squeezed your hand in his.

Your heart was beating faster. Choi Seungcheol was holding your hand while bundled up together on the Ferris wheel and you had no idea how to react. The rain intensified slightly and you could now hear the pitter-patter on the glass.

"We have to talk about it," you began quietly, "While we were away, I missed you so much. It would hurt more if you gave me even more of a reason to miss you."

He finally peeled his eyes away from the rising landscape and met yours with softness in his eyes, "Being apart for a whole year made me realise how much I need you in my life. It was practically torture to not talk to you, but I wanted to let you have the space to grow into yourself at college. You know how I feel about you, but if nothing else, I'd rather keep you in my life as my best friend than not have you in it at all."

You sighed, your memories taking you back to the night of graduation- you, Seungcheol, his car, and whispered confessions between the two of you. What you couldn't forget was the pain that came after the confession on the realisation that college was just around the corner and you couldn't head into an unknown territory with a newfound relationship. You trusted Seungcheol with your whole life- if someone had thrown you off a cliff, it would be Seungcheol you'd trust to figure out a way to stop time and catch you at the bottom- but you didn't know Seungcheol in a relationship and everything was too risky.

You had a lot of regrets in your life. Maybe that night was one of them.

"You still feel that way?" you asked quietly. The Ferris wheel was on its descent and you didn't even have the chance to admire the view at the top.

"I knew my feelings wouldn't change. I've always felt this way," Seungcheol's palm in yours was beginning to get clammy, "Sunshine, just give me this summer. I'll prove to you that this is worth it. That we're worth fighting for."

You know that funny feeling in your stomach when you're dropping from height quite fast and then you feel a surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins as you raise back up? Looking into Seungcheol's hopeful eyes felt a bit like that. The leaping head first into this risk is the nerve-racking part- that stomach-dropping feeling on a roller coaster, but you know that Seungcheol is the only person in this world that could take you to greater heights than your eyes could fathom.

ꕤ

It was Friday. You loved Fridays as intensely as you hated Sundays.

Fridays could be described as full of excitement. Saturdays were filled with warmth. Sundays dripped in longing.

There's a familiar and comforting grin on Seungcheol's face as he walks towards you. Even though it's raining pretty heavily and all you're protected by is this bus shelter, he would never let the weather ruin the mood of Fridays.

He takes you into his arms and you melt into his embrace as he hums into your ear, "How's my favourite girl?"

"Hanging in there," you plant your lips where his jaw meets his neck, "I missed you."

"I always miss you, Sunshine," his arms are still around you and the two of you are swaying slightly under the rain. Does this count as dancing in the rain?

There's no duffel bag strapped around Seungcheol these days when he gets off the bus or the train, only a small backpack. There's a drawer in your dorm room dedicated just for him, to make it easier when he came almost every other Friday. It's only fair since you have a drawer and a section in his bathroom cabinet for when you go to him the alternate Fridays.

Friday was exciting because the two of you could feel each other again after the week without each other. Sure, it was a bit expensive to travel between the two cities, but both of you worked in the evenings during the week and you had been getting by. Sundays were the worst because the goodbyes never got any easier.

"It's almost summer again soon. We'll be at home together," you sighed dreamily, as he slipped his fingers in between yours and began leading the way back to your dorm.

"And then it's almost our anniversary," Seungcheol reminded you as if you would ever forget when the man of your dreams finally became yours.

"The year's actually gone by so fast. We'll be graduating before you know it!"

Seungcheol felt a smile take over his face, "Then we can both find a job in the city, get you an apartment with a balcony, and get that cat we've been talking about. We'll have breakfast in bed every Sunday morning and wrap up all cozy in blankets doing movie nights, and I'll try and cook for you, but I know it'll turn out bad and you'll have to order in. Our cat will claw up Jeonghan and you can have a little corner in the living room for your crochet supplies."

In everything he did, Seungcheol made it known that you were always in his future plans. You were his future. He couldn't imagine a life without you, and that made you so incredibly elated because you felt the same.

There was no one that you would rather be walking in the rain with, hand in hand.

Sure, saying yes to him that last summer when he asked for a chance was scary. You were putting yourself in a vulnerable situation with your heart open and practically giving itself away. Luckily, it was Choi Seungcheol that was entrusted to take care of it. He was the one man that made you feel like you were always enough, just the way you are. He was the one person that you would jump leaps and bounds for, no matter how scary they were.

You pulled on his sleeve to stop him in his tracks under a streetlight. The rain looked like crystals falling under the light and the ground seemed sparkling. Seungcheol seemed a bit confused as he turned to you, but you propped yourself up and connected your lips to his. You could never get enough of kissing him- you still got intense butterflies every time you did, just like the first time he kissed you in your favourite ice cream shop under the pretense of cleaning up the ice cream around your lips.

"I'm glad it's you, Choi Seungcheol."

That was all the I love you's he could ever need.

219 notes · View notes

buckyismybicycle · 1 year

Text

Title: Miles Away [READ ON AO3] Pairing: Rockstar Bucky Barnes/Female Reader Rating: Explicit Tags: Long Distance Relationship, Mutual Pining, Fingering, Love Confessions, Falling in Love Summary: How am I supposed to be everything they expect me to be? When I feel so alone, 'cause I left my heart at home

This is also for @buckybarnesbingo Flash Bingo K: "Kitten"

«« Part 1 | Part 2 | Series Masterlist | Part 4 (TBD) »

Bucky is the drug in your veins, the electricity that runs through your body. You had no idea how you had managed to fall so fast and so hard for someone, but as Bucky heads into the next state and you head in the opposite direction toward home, you realize just how magnetic he was. It took every ounce of willpower to keep yourself from making that U-turn and driving yourself right back into his arms.

Was it perhaps a little obsessive to download everything of his? Every single album, song, and even remix? Maybe. But his voice is the one that you want to wake up to and the one you fall asleep to. It’s his old school rock songs that you wake up to, that hype you up for the day and his post-hardcore songs that get your blood pumping during a run or get your body swaying as you clean your apartment. It’s his acoustic songs that lull you to sleep, his voice softer than it has any right to be, sweet in your ear.

Even though you call, text, and videocall, there’s a piece of you that craves his physical touch, that yearns for the solid warmth of his body to accompany that sultry voice of his.

He finishes his tour, and his next, and then before you could figure out what hit you, your one-night stand turned two-day stand has bloomed into something you weren’t sure you were ready for.

His next tour is in Europe and it feels like he’s gone for ages before he comes back even though it’s only three weeks. You only get to see him once, before he’s swept away again, back into a recording studio so he can keep doing what he loves, and that’s when you realize you miss him.

Then it’s off to Riot Fest in Chicago for a weekend, which isn’t terribly far and yet it feels hundreds of miles away. He’s supposed to be there in two weeks.

The thought makes you a little weak, but you couldn’t let him catch onto anything. He hadn’t asked for anything more and you knew what the life of a rockstar was like. Hell, they wrote songs about it all the time! Sex, drugs, partying, that was the rock and roll way, right?

Though… Bucky had never exactly been like that when you two spent time together. He’d have an occasional drink, maybe a cigarette, and he turned down invites to go clubbing, choosing to instead spend the night with you. Sometimes, you wouldn’t be doing much of anything and you wonder if he ever felt bored just cuddling up on the couch with you, watching a movie, ordering in. It all seemed pretty mundane now that you thought about it.

“Maybe it’s a little straight-forwad o’ me, doll, but I’d love to see you before I go. Maybe… Stay a few nights?”

You didn’t have to think about it, really. “Of course, Buck! You know I love having you here. But… Well, are you sure you wanna spend your limited days here in my tiny apartment?”

There’s a low chuckle on the other end of the line that makes your stomach flutter. “Sweetheart, there’s no place I would rather be.”

You smile a bit, cheeks warming at his words. “You’re always welcome here, Bucky.”

“Alright, well, we gotta wrap a few things up at the studio in a few days and I gotta pack and all that, but I can be down by… Thursday? Is that too soon?”

It wasn’t soon enough, actually. If you could, you’d have Bucky here right now. Instead, you breathe in for a count or two before responding. “Thursday’s great.”

“Lookin’ forward to it, baby.”

♪♪♪

There really isn’t a need for you to be nervous. Maybe, if you had known who he was before seeing him, or if you had anticipated for even a second you’d see him more than once or twice, it would be a different story. Instead, you had thrown caution to the wind, almost certain you’d never see him again. You answered all his questions without holding back, gave up every secret and detail like it was nothing.

Bucky had done the same, though you weren’t sure if it was due to the same reasons or because Bucky was simply an open book. Always boisterous, always open, you didn’t really see Bucky hide much, if you were honest. The things you could find on the internet about him… Jeez.

But you two kept coming together, time and time again, and by then it already felt like you’d known each other your whole lives.

There was no point trying to think about something else — Bucky consumed your thoughts and you happily let him. Humming along to one of his songs, you cleaned up around your place, picked up groceries and threw yourself into work to put all that pent up energy somewhere.

By the time Thursday rolls around, your skin was tingling with anticipation, as if craving his touch. You could even see a slight tremor in your hands as you prepared dinner some time after you received the text from Bucky saying he was on his way. It would still be two hours before he got here, driving from the next state over.

When the buzzer rang in, you had nearly dropped your phone in the pan. Oh god, Bucky was here!

You checked yourself one last time in the hallway, before unlocking the door, leaving it open a crack, and then cleaning the kitchen up quickly.

“Babe?”

Your heart skips a beat as you go toward the shuffling noises by your door. Despite the fact that you see him all the time — whether it be by video, album covers, or music videos — he still takes your breath away.

He’s dressed simply, in black jeans, a plain white t-shirt and a plain zip-up hoodie under his light jacket but you think he looks perfect.

“Bucky,” you greet as you close the distance.

His clothes and skin are still chilled by the outside, and you shiver in his arms a bit.

“Heya doll,” he murmurs into your cheek before he pulls back and looks you over from head to toe, the same way you’d done to him.

Your cheeks get a bit warm at the focused attention.

“God, I fuckin’ missed you,” Bucky says abruptly, tearing his jacket and sweater off in one go, pressing his lips to yours.

You melt into the kiss, hands coming to cup his face, hands warming his cheeks as he steps out of his shoes and crowds you up against the wall.

“Missed you t — ah!” You don’t get to finish your sentence as Bucky nips at your neck.

“S’that right?” Bucky asks voice gruff and teasing in your ear.

You nod frantically, hands scrabbling at his shoulders while he presses his entire body against yours. Goosebumps form across your skin when he gets his hands under your shirt, partially from the fact he’d just come outside but mostly because you’ve been dreaming of his touch ever since you last saw him.

“Bucky,” you gasp against his mouth.

“Oh fuck, yeah,” Bucky groans, running out of patience and scooping you up by the back of your legs. “Love when you say my name, baby.”

Your legs automatically wrap around his waist, your hands running through his soft chestnut hair and wrapping around the back of his neck. He doesn’t seem to be in any rush whatsoever, his tongue slow but firm across yours as you both pant for air, hot breath across your cheeks with every struggling exhale.

“Bucky,” you say again, this time breathless, as you squeeze your legs around him.

“Mmm? Can I help you with something, kitten?”

You can’t help the sharp inhale of breath, your heartrate picking up speed as he pins you with his intense gaze.

You’re already feeling dizzy, words getting harder to formulate so you try to answer with your mouth and body. Tugging at his hair and pressing back against him, you hope it conveys exactly what it is you want — and just how badly you want it.

“Missed me that much, huh?” He asks with a chuckle, finally carrying you to the bedroom.

You nod frantically. “God, yes, yes, missed you so much.”

He laughs and you can’t help but return it, the both of you fumbling your clothes off in a hurry, limbs getting caught as you try to tear the fabric off of each other.

When he lowers you into bed, your entire body is heaving with anticipation as you dig your fingers into him, refusing to let him go.

Bucky kisses down your neck softly, slowly like he hasn’t a care in the world while you were a squirming mess underneath him. You feel goosebumps forming as he breathes out hotly along the trail his tongue leaves behind. It feels like he’s mapping out every spot that makes you howl and filing it away for later, smirking as he breaks you down bit by bit.

“Fuck, Bucky!” You wail, curling his fingers into fists along his shoulder.

“Yes, kitten?”

Oh, you could just kill him right now! He knows exactly what he’s doing, of course, and you know that. You know that he’s purposely teasing you without giving you much, knows that he’s practically purring in your ear, all the sweet nothings and pet names to get you riled up.

“How’m I supposed to know what you wan’ if you can’t even tell me, sugar?” He continues, fingers finally entering you, the slick making it so, so easy. “Jesus, sweetheart, already so wet for me and I only jus’ started.”

You clench around him in every sense of the word — pussy clamping down around his fingers, legs locked tight around his waist.

“Aw, sweetheart, y’gonna come already?” Bucky asks, fingers slowly curling inside of you while his thumb runs over your clit from left to right slowly. “I haven’t even put my mouth on you…”

You let out a loud whine, our hands tugging at Bucky’s hair hard enough that you’re sure it must hurt but he doesn’t give any indication of it. “Bucky, please, I c-can’t —”

The rest of it gets lost in a moan that gives away the fact that you’re right there.

“Can’t what, princess?” Bucky mocks. “Can’t even speak, can you?”

You can’t bring yourself to care even the slightest bit about Bucky’s goading, the feeling overwhelming your entire body as you dig in while you come hard enough that you could swear you blacked out for a moment.

It’s like being underwater, the sounds muffled in your ears — Bucky’s chuckle, drowned out by your fevered panting, your heartbeat.

“Nnnnggggg,” you groan, limbs heavy and uncoordinated as you essentially become one with the mattress.

Bucky’s smug face looks up at you while he kisses below your belly button as your stomach and chest still heave for air. “You okay there, doll?”

“Oh, fuck you,” you huff out, laughing along with Bucky as he crawls back up to kiss you.

“Mmm,” Bucky murmurs between your lips meeting.”Wanna fuck you.”

Even if you had just come, it’s like Bucky’s words ignite your body all over again. You smile dopily at him, hands cradling his face and running your thumbs along his stubble. “Yeah? Well what’re you waiting for?”

Bucky’s responding grin sends shivers down your spine again. Settling in, hauling your hips up until your ass rested on the top of his thighs, he licks his lips like a panther with its prey.

♪♪♪

You wake before Bucky does, your body pleasantly sore and still tired. With a small wiggle, you settle back into his arms, taking the time to just enjoy the moment and memorizing it. You let him sleep a bit longer, knowing he has a long night ahead, though it’s not like you could pull yourself away if you wanted. There was only an hour left with him, so you had to make the most of it and look over every detail in front of you.

It was so easy to imagine that this was your actual life — waking up beside this beautiful man, sharing more than just your bed with him. Your home. Your heart.

You trace a light finger along that sharp jawline and Bucky inhales deeply as he rouses.

“Mornin’, beautiful,” he mumbles, eyes slowly blinking open.

“Good morning,” you whisper,. “It’s almost 10:00.”

“M’gonna miss you, dollface,” Bucky whispers, voice raspy with sleep and — well, maybe it was more than just sleep.

“Pfft, yeah right,” you tease. “Girls are gonna fling themselves at your feet and you’ll have your pick of any one of ‘em.”

You had tried to keep the tone light — joking — but it obviously doesn’t quite work.

Bucky gets a little furrow between his eyebrows as he props himself up on an elbow to look down at you, searching your face for something. “Is that actually what you’re thinkin’?”

You opened your mouth to respond but nothing came out. It was the truth, but you hadn’t planned on sounding so pathetic. Sighing, you tuck the covers under your chin as you look up at him. God, you’d miss this face — the stunning eyes, that little dimple in his chin, the way his hair looks when your fingers have been running through it, gripping it, pulling it.

“Bucky… I knew when you first kissed me that you wouldn’t be staying.” God, it even hurts just to say it out loud. “You’re — you’re literally famous. You’re a rockstar! I’m —”

“— mine,” he finishes, interrupting you. “You’re mine.”

You bite your tongue, because he’s about to hit the road and you don’t want your last moments with him to be about this. About the way your stomach flutters when he says that you’re his so adamantly, like he doesn’t say it to the other girls you’re sure he’s picking up along the tours.

“Hey, c’mon,” Bucky coaxes, a gentle finger crooked under your chin to make you face him. His brows are furrowed as he looks at you. “What are you goin’ on about, huh?”

It’s painful to even think about it — letting yourself believe that maybe this meant as much to him as it meant to you, but it was impossible, wasn’t it?

“Nothing,” you lie. “I just miss you sometimes, that’s all.”

He snorts with a short laugh. “Babe, I miss you all the time.”

Looking you in the eyes, he props himself up on elbow, his other hand stroking your jaw lightly. “You know, I never thought I’d hate touring but sometimes… I just wish I could stay here instead.”

“Oh my god, don’t say that!” You admonish, a strange feeling working its way up your throat. “You’ve said it yourself, you were born for this! Bucky, you really, really are so talented. You were made for this. I still remember seeing you on stage for the first time, I’ll never forget it. I felt so alive, Bucky. Better than I had in ages. I felt free — like I was flying and… Everyone out there should experience that, too. They need to.”

“I ever mention how fuckin’ incredible you are?” Bucky asks, his eyes a bright, shining blue. It’s not often that you’re the one making him bashful, but it feels damn good. It’s not like you had even tried to, you had simply been telling him the truth. “I — you know I’m just a phone call away, right?”

“I know.” You try smiling for his benefit before pulling him in for a kiss that hopefully distracts him.

Whatever Bucky might’ve said gets lost as he tangles his fingers in your hair again, bringing you close to him. It turns from a leisurely kiss into something more frantic, like you both know that there’s an impending deadline. Needless to say, your distraction works.

In fact, it works a little too well. He shoves his feet into his boots, phone wedged between his ear and shoulder as he tries to explain to Natasha that he’ll be right there and no, of course he’s not going to be late.

You try to hide a giggle as he throws the last of his things haphazardly in his bag and hangs up.

When it comes time to your goodbyes, you hug each other tightly. Bucky smells like you, like your sheets and your shampoo, he even smells like your lotion with how much time you’ve spent pressed up against him.

God, is it ever difficult for you to let him go. Something must show on your face because as Bucky’s about to say goodbye, his face falls for a second.

“Sweetheart —”

“No! No, it’s okay,” you rush to reassure him. “Really, baby, I’ll be fine. It’s nothing.”

You can see he’s not entirely convinced, but it’s enough that he relents and gives you a long, sweet goodbye kiss.

“See you when I get back?”

You nod without thinking. “Yeah, of course.”

♪♪♪

“What’s wrong with your face?” Nat asks him the moment he scrambles onto their bus and throws his bag on his bunk.

“Fuck you, my face is perfectly fine,” he shoots back, though there’s no real heat to it.

“Ooooooh,” she taunts with a wicked grin. “Someone’s in loooooooove.”

“N — shut up!”

He’s clearly outnumbered when Clint laughs from the small couch and Scott howls from the bathroom of all places. What the fuck is his life.

Natasha takes some pity on him, at least. Because she leans in close before she whispers to him with a wink. “That’s not a no.”

He hates the way she catches onto everything. It’s true, though, it’s not a no. Truthfully, Bucky’s not really sure what love is. Despite singing an inordinate amount of love songs, he’s never felt it as deep in his bones as he does now. All the songs from their albums were different now — all the lyrics that spoke of love, the lyrics that Bucky never thought he would connect to like the rest, they made sense now.

He takes out his worn, trusted and beloved journal, and puts pen to paper, his thoughts flowing out of him like a tsunami. His words fill up the blank spaces between his various other scribbles and doodles.

♪♪♪

You lay on your couch, Netflix playing at a low volume as you try to unwind from the day. Besides immediately taking off your work clothes and microwaving some dinner to settle in, you hadn’t done much else. Except miss Bucky, of course, which made you feel so pathetic. God, it’s only been a day.

When your phone goes off, you get a thrill of excitement before you realize that there’s no way it could be Bucky, he’d be performing any minute now. The name that pops up surprises you nonetheless, and you pick it up wondering if it was good news or bad news.

“Peter?”

“Oh, hi! Um, Bucky wanted me to call you and — are you busy right now?”

You stared at the TV playing nonsense you weren’t even paying any attention to. “No, I’m not busy, just — is everything okay?”

“Uh-huh, yeah! Great. They’re technically done but they’re doing one more encore song and it’s gonna be real special. He wanted you to watch! Can I FaceTime you?”

“Yes! Of course!” You didn’t do a good job of hiding how enthusiastic you were about the fact that you could see Bucky again so soon.

“Okay, hang on —”

The moment you accept his videocall request, you gasp. The crowd in front of Bucky’s stage was huge! You were so happy for him — for the whole band, really. They deserved to be heard and recognized.

There was Bucky, front and centre stage like usual. Except this time, the rest of the band wasn’t with him.

“Can you see okay?”

You giggle at Peter’s concerned, faraway voice and holler back at him. “Yep, I’m good!”

“Tonight I’m doin’ somethin’ a lil different,” Bucky says into the microphone as he adjusts the strap of his acoustic guitar over his shoulder. “It’s been a while since I brought out ol’ Betsy for you guys, huh?”

The crowd gives a laugh as Bucky tunes “Betsy” expertly, pulling the microphone closer to him. “You better feel lucky, ‘cause you’re gonna be the first ones to hear this. Are you ready?”

The cheer from the crowd is nearly a screech, whistles and catcalls mixed in.

A new song? How exciting! You wonder if this is why Bucky wanted you to be on the call, and smiled at how sweet that was.

“This one’s for a special angel of mine,” Bucky declares before he strums away, the opening notes slow but sure.

Special angel — no, it can’t be…

I pack my bags and say goodbye to my divine

For what seems like the millionth time

They said it gets easier, but they lied

She looks at me and says "Really baby, I will be just fine"

But then she looks away, so I don't have to see her cry

And that is when I ask myself

You freeze, hearing the exact words you’d said to him that morning. There couldn’t be a coincidence — Peter had very specifically called you, which meant that this was for you. That you were “angel” that Bucky was dedicating this song to.

How am I supposed to be everything they expect me to be?

When I feel so alone, 'cause I left my heart at home

She needs me, but I know they need me too

So God, give me the strength to do what you created me to do.

Well really I'm so thankful for the people I meet, the places I've been and the things I've seen

But when she's not here it doesn't feel like I'm living my dreams

I know they say that no one is perfect, but I swear she's perfect for me

And that makes it so much harder to leave

You’ve already started crying from the indescribable feeling that washes over you. Perfect for me — Bucky had just said that! You were in disbelief, and despite how sad the song sounded, it was also breathtakingly beautiful, just like everything else Bucky does.

How am I supposed to be everything they expect me to be?

When I feel so alone, 'cause I left my heart at home

She needs me, but I know they need me too

So God, give me the strength to do what you created me to do

People say things like “music saved my life” or “music is my escape” and you always thought you understood what they meant. You enjoyed music too and almost always had some playing in the background no matter what you were doing.

You were so very wrong. This feeling, this sizzling, bubbling, tingling sensation that you can feel from head to toe is what it means to truly be moved by music. Like arrows, each one of Bucky’s words drive straight through your heart, sharp and unrelenting. You have to cover your mouth to stop yourself from making too much noise, desperate to hear the rest of the song.

If you miss me, I'm just a phone call away

Please be strong, be strong for me

I need you to show me how to change the inside of me

For my heart, for their sake, please be strong, be strong for me

Everything was blurry by now, the tears trickling down your cheeks as you hear his words — and yours — being played for hundreds of people live.

How am I supposed to be everything they expect me to be?

When I feel so alone, so alone

How am I supposed to be everything they expect me to be?

When I feel so alone, 'cause I left my heart at home

She needs me, but I know they need me too

So God, give me the strength to do what you created me to do.

You couldn’t believe it was over. The shock and the overwhelming feeling that you can’t quite place literally make you freeze in your spot, biting down on your lip to try and hold it together.

“And that’s all she wrote, folks! Well. That’s all I wrote, anyway. GOOD-FUCKING-NIGHT E’ERYBODYYYYY! WE LOVE YOU”

Love. The word sends a jolt through you as it all falls into place for you. You loved him and you just couldn’t admit it to yourself but it’s oh so clear to you now.

The applause was like lightning, cheers and howls mixed in as Bucky exited the stage, and the moment you could no longer see him, the first sob escapes you. There’s a shuffling noise, reminding you that you were still on a call with Peter and not up in the clouds where Bucky makes you feel like you are.

“Are you —”

“Hey, Peter, I gotta go!” You blurt out frantically. “Will you tell Bucky to call me later please?”

“Oh! Um, yeah, sure I can do that.”

“Thanks Peter,” you rush. “Goodnight!”

You only feel a little bad for hanging up on him, but you’d just have to apologize next time. Right now? Right now you had to bawl your eyes out at the fact that Bucky wrote a song for you. And not just a song for you, but a song about you, where he called you “his divine” and “his heart”.

All this time, you let your fears and insecurities get in the way, so convinced that Bucky wasn’t looking for anything more than an easy hook-up. How could you have been so blind?

You don’t know how long it is after the set is done before your phone rings again, and this time it’s Bucky’s name that flashes across your phone.

“Bucky, what the HELL!” You yell as soon as you hear the call connect, not even giving him a chance to say hello.

“Hi to you too, dollface.”

You can hear the smirk on the other end. “I can’t believe you!”

“Can’t believe what, babe? That I wrote a song for you? I always said I was gonna didn’t I?”

“Yeah, but —”

It’s true. He had always said that, but you hadn’t taken it seriously for even a second. “But I didn’t expect that!”

“Did you like it?”

“I loved it,” you tell him earnestly, voice cracking a bit as you get emotional all over again. “I loved it so much. I —”

You had almost let it slip right then and there. Heart pounding, you have to physically swallow the words down.

“Good,” Bucky says, nonchalant as if you weren’t on the cusp of a love confession. “I practically wrote it non-stop on my way here from your place. Wasn’t sure if it’d be any good to be honest with ya, only sang it once on the bus for the troops and they like fuckin’ with me. You promise you actually liked it and you’re not tryna make me feel better? ‘Cause y’know, I can always rework it and —”

“I love you,” you interrupt. It was just too much to handle, how endearing it all was that Bucky not only wrote this ode to you but he was even worried if you liked it, which was such a silly thought because you loved everything Bucky did.

“... You do?” Bucky asks, sounding adorably confused.

You grimace at yourself — what the hell ere you doing! “Sorry, sorry. I just — I don’t know I had to say it, Buck. That song was…. I’m —”

It was his turn to cut you off now, saving you from further rambling and embarrassment.

“I love you, too.”

You smile so wide that your cheeks hurt. Between the two of you and your newfound words for each other, you happily chat as you both get ready for the night. So absorbed in your conversation, both of you miss the social media storm until it’s far too late.

Thank you to @rookthorne as always for your support, encouragement and second set of eyes. This series exists because of you, sweetheart! 💕

#collab fic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x female reader smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #rockstar!AU #your own star on hollywood boulevard #bucky barnes series

121 notes · View notes

grippingbeskar · 2 years

Text

salt, ice and fire | frank castle

chapter fourteen - body clock

[series masterlist] [previous chapter]

frank castle x fem!reader

word count: 4.9k

warnings: explicit content minors DNI 18+ (oral f receiving), swearing, canon typical violence, blood, torture, mention of injuries/cuts/scars, death, guns and punisher type shit. the usual. execution style killing. baby we ROLLIN OUT!!!

a/n: idk why i’m so scared posting this, but i queued it so i wouldn’t be awake bc i don’t have the balls. goodbye.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You all but slam into the wall as Frank walks out of the shower, placing you gently on the sink. His hand comes up behind your head, making sure you don’t hit it as he pushes himself against you, but also using it as leverage to keep your lips attached to his. His tongue needs no permission, your mouth already open and begging, and you moan at the sensation of being this close to him again.

His free hand slides up your leg, fingers grabbing at the covered skin. You shimmy as close to the edge as possible, trying to feel more of him. His hand slides down from your neck, meeting the other one at the button of your jeans.

“Can I take these off?” He says into your mouth, kissing you between each word.

“Yes. Please. Hurry up.” He smiles against your lips, hands working at the zipper a mile a minute.

“Easy, sweetheart. I’m gonna take my damn time.” Finally he gets past your zipper and starts to pull your pants down. You lift your hips as best you can, trying to kiss him while he does it. You feel starved - you aren’t sure how long it will be between the next, so you were getting as much as possible in this moment. He still tastes like you remember - rough and earthy, something a little bitter and entirely him.

“I like it when you call me that.” Your pants hit the floor, and Frank doesn’t respond straight away. He was staring at you, still covered by your underwear and bra, but it felt like you were completely naked when he looked at you like that.

“Hm?” He says, running his hands up and down your sides, not looking at your eyes.

“I like that name.” He says your real name then, a low groan, and it gives the same effect. “Maybe it’s just the way you say it.”

“You are so god damn beautiful. I ever tell you that before?” You can’t find the nerve to answer him, so you pull him back to you. He keeps saying things against your mouth but you don’t know what they are, too consumed in the way he feels against you.

Suddenly his hands are on your thighs again, this time the rough pads of his fingers drag searing hot lines up your bare skin. Goosebumps appear in their wake, and you feel yourself practically shivering in anticipation as he gets higher and higher. He was going slow; slow enough that you could easily stop him if you wanted, but all it was doing was making you dizzy with need, waiting for him as if you haven’t spent the past months dreaming only of him. He pulls away from your mouth, and your eyes flutter open to find him staring at you, fingers stilled on the highest point of your thighs.

“Is-“ You swallow, finding your throat dry with the way he was looking down at you. “Is everything okay?”

“How you still look so gorgeous after all the shit we been doing last night?” His eyes trail down your body, searching you in a way no one ever has before. You’d been here more times than you could count, stripped down in next to nothing, having people hang over you. Usually when they stared at you though, it was like an experiment gone wrong, but this was something completely different. You wanted him to look, to see you the way you have only ever dreamed of being seen. In a way that makes you feel good - attractive. Wanted. You lean up and kiss him again.

“I could ask you the same thing.” You feel his laugh on your shoulder, hot air making the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

“Sure you could.” He mumbles into your skin before picking you up and leading you back through to the bedroom. The door was still locked shut, and you had a passing thought about how the Colonel was still outside, bleeding out tied to a chair. You had no desire to think any more of it - if he died now, at least you wouldn’t have to ever leave this place, locked away under Frank.

It was irresponsible, but Frank laid you down on the bed and crawled on top of you, just like that night a few days ago, and you suddenly didn’t care. Frank made you like that - unable to think of anyone but him, to do anything without looking to him. It was like a magnetic pull.

He kissed you once more before working his way down, his mouth ghosting along the lines of your body. Your eyes fluttered closed, just to feel him brushing over your collar bone, the line of your bra, and then kiss you just above the seam of your underwear. It makes you shiver, and his hands hold your hips down to stop you squirming. The sudden stop of movement has your eyes opening again.

“You okay?” He breathes against your skin before kissing your left hip, hooking his fingertips under the fabric.

“Mhmm.” Swallowing, he kisses the scar on your other hip, almost completely healed over.

“I gotta take these off, baby. Okay?” He says it like he’s in pain, and when you nod he ever so slightly he drags the fabric down, exposing an inch more skin, giving you every chance to stop him. Instead, your fingers thread through his hair and tug, a little harder than you need, subconsciously telling him to hurry the fuck up. He shakes his head under your hands and smiles, before throwing your underwear somewhere in the room.

The width of his shoulders force your legs open as he moves down, and you can feel every short breath, every tense of his muscles in between you.

“Frank.” You practically whine, and his face presses against your under thigh.

“So pretty, baby.” Your toes curl at the compliment and everything gets warmer. He presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh and you whine again.

“Please.” He lets you sit in silence for another second, enjoying the sight of you squirming— begging for him. Every muscle in your body is tense, waiting, and looks up at you again.

“Say it again.” The words practically go through you, and you whine as he drags his teeth lightly along your skin.

“Please.” He groans, and finally lets himself give in.

He starts slow, teasingly so, one of his arms wrapping under your leg encouraging it over his shoulder so he can snake his forearm across your stomach. Your hands tighten around the short strands of his hair, and he hums against you at the feeling. As much as you were trying to speed him up, encourage him in any way as your hips rolled at the new sensation, he held you down with one strong arm.

Once you didn’t pull away from the first touch, he takes the green light and dives into you. Nothing can prepare you for the force of it; hands holding you down, forcing you to take every roll of his tongue over your clit. You swear your eyes crossed for a second, electric heat overwhelming all the parts of your brain you could feel.

No one had ever done this to you before - no one had poured this much attention onto just you, unless they were causing you pain. Your brain, fuzzy as it was, couldn’t comprehend why someone would dedicate this much energy to only your pleasure - your body. You.

“You taste fucking perfect. Christ - could spend all fuckin’ night right here ” You can only say his name in response, and his free hand snakes up your side, threading into your own that was fisted into the blanket. You tug harder on his hair and your fingers interlock with the other, and the bed suddenly feels like it was made of clouds.

“Shit.” You suck in a curse and his tongue glides over your clit. The arm that was holding you down snakes underneath, one finger sliding inside of you and curling at an angle that has you seeing stars. Your eyes manage to open for a second, and he’s staring up at you, glazed over at whatever you look like. After he catches your look for a second, he’s encouraged because he starts getting faster and it’s so much all at once you think you might actually black out-

“Oh fuck, fuck.” You cry out, tears nearly forming in your eyes. “Frank…”

“Feels good?”

“Y-yeah. Just like that. God, feels so good.”

“I know, baby. I know.” You don’t know what he was doing, but the pressure in your stomach was building so much that you knew it would burst any second. Your back arches off the bed, fingers twisted in his hair, and you squeezed his hand so tight you felt your nails - your real nails - digging into his skin.

Your face turns into the pillow trying to muffle your sounds as best you can, but nothing dulls the sensation of your orgasm completely wracking through your body. Franks hand works you through it, his mouth still attached and tongue dragging over your clit slowly, as if he was doing it just for him.

As soon as you start to come down from your high he’s moving up your body, lips finding yours and not giving you a second to inhale. His hand against your side is light and gentle, completely opposite to the way he was kissing you. It was messy and you could taste yourself on him, a mixture of something in between the taste of him. Somehow the combination was even more intense - like a mix of you and him was an elixir to beat any other. You opened more for him, greedy and wanting to take as much as you could, and he groaned into your mouth as your hand ran down his abs.

You mirror his teasing, letting your hand continue it’s path down to palm him through his jeans. He sucks in a breath, forehead pressing to yours and looking down to where your hand is. You were still naked from the waist down, and you saw his control snap before your eyes when he took in the sight. You let your fingertips trace lightly around the outline of him, and the muscles in his arms flex next to you.

“Something wrong?” He blows out a laugh, pushing forward to kiss you again.

“Nothin’ at all.”

“No?” You bring your hand up to the hem of his pants, fingertips grazing the bare skin as you undid the button, trying your best to take the zipper down with one hand. You could feel him hardening under you, and your eyes looked back up to him. “You want something?”

“I - Jesus Christ.” He stutters on his words when you gently wrap your hands around him through his boxers. Running your hands along him, you feel his breath shudder, and his head drops to the crook of your neck. He shuffles further up so his arms don’t have to hold his weight so much. “C’mon baby, you don’t-“

“Shh.” You brush your lips over his, already knowing what he was going to say. You don’t have to do anything. You know you don’t have to - which makes you want to all the more. That and seeing how unraveled Frank was above you has you squeezing your thighs together already, breathy sounds and groans filling your ears like sweet wine. “You’re so b-“

A clash from outside the room snaps both your attention to the closed door. All the air in Franks lungs leaves in one exhale, and you can almost hear how hard his hands are clenched. The Colonel. The very last person you want to be thinking about right now is going to ruin this. You nearly cry when Frank pulls away from you, the only solace being that he looks like he’s in as much pain as you are.

“I’ll take care of it. Stay right here.” He hangs over you, watching as you pout in frustration. “I’m going to fuckin’ kill him.” Frank mumbles and kisses you once before rolling off the bed, struggling to get his pants up over his hard on as he stomps towards the door. He closes the door behind him, leaving you on the bed in nothing but a bra, and the magnitude of what just happens begins to wash over you.

You try to put yourself together, but you can’t think of anything else. You have no idea how you are supposed to now. Nothing but his face, his warm breath on your skin, his mouth on yours, how he kissed you with a need you’d never felt until he’d showed it to you.

You hear a scream from outside, and there’s no mistaking who’s it is. Frank is taking out his frustrations on the Colonel, and as much as you enjoy the idea of Frank beating the shit out of him, you want him to come back in here and take it out on you. You quickly gather some clothes and walk yourself to the door on shaking legs, opening it just in time to see Frank throwing another punch, his fist landing straight into the Colonels stomach.

“You think that was the worst of it?! They will rip h-“ The wind is knocked out of him with another blow, and as your walking over, your eye catches movement on one of the cameras.

“Frank.” You say, not needing to shout to get his attention. He shoves the Colonel over, his chair sending him immobile on the floor. “Look. Camera 12.”

He leans over your shoulder, staring hard. The black and white picture is hard to make out, but the cameras still work well enough to see a man crouching down behind a bin, talking through a watch.

“Where is that?” Your stomach drops as seven more men appear on the screen.

“Two miles out.” Frank had already turned, going to pack his things into a bag for the thousandth time.

“I told you. I told you they would come.” The Colonel groans on the floor, and Frank zips up his bag before going over to him, grabbing him buy the hair. He groans, blood pouring from his mouth.

“You tell ‘em where we were? Huh?” The Colonel spits blood at him, and Frank lets his head drop heavy back to the concrete.

“Are they tracking him?” Your eyes still haven’t left the monitor. A familiar face passes over the screen. Even in black and white, you would know it anywhere. It’s the face of all your nightmares, the only one you can see clearly in all of them, looking over you on the operation table, or locking the door of your cell three years ago, leaving you in darkness. “Bobby Gnucci is with them.”

“Fuck!” Frank slams his shoe into the Colonel, and he splutters out more blood. He’s weak, and if you don’t move soon, he will be dead within the hour. “We gotta move.”

“Put him in the boot. We can drive out the back, right?” Frank was already shoving the Colonels lifeless body into the car, still tied to the chair. “If they’re tracking him, we’re just delaying the inevitable.”

“There’s dozens of them. We need to move. At least get a vantage point.” Frank comes up behind you. “Didn’t think he’d show.”

“Always one for a dramatic entrance.” You knew he was talking about the man you were now fixated on, watching the leader of the Gnucci gang position men on either side of him, as well as three surrounding. “Does this have sound?”

Frank bangs around on a few things, and suddenly a radio flicks on. He walks away to pack the rest of your stuff in the car, not that there was a lot, but he leaves for long enough that you hear a voice come through the receiver.

“Theres no way in.” A man comments from Bobby’s left, and the look he gives him is enough to silence him.

“You’ll find me a way in. They are in there. I will not lose it again.” It. You’d spent so much time out of containment, you’d nearly forgotten what it was like to be talked down about. Even if it was two miles away. “I can feel it.”

“But sir-“ The other man pipes up. “How do you know? What if this is a trap, and The Punisher is waiting for us? Or worse - it’s watching us right now?” Bobby turns around, pulls out his hand gun and shoots the man in the back of the head with no hesitation.

“I know. I know it’s here. Does anyone else want to question my intelligence?” Silence booms from the radio, and you look back to the screen where the men begin to move up. “Good. Move in.”

“We need to go. Now.” Your heart was beating so fast you can hardly register a nod at Franks words.

You don’t have a chance to turn back around, just shoving yourself in the passenger seat of the shitty car you stole weeks ago now, and Frank flat footing the accelerator out the back entrance. When you hit the main road, you could hear shouts echoing as your car sped past, and you could have sworn you saw Bobby’s face, almost smiling as you disappeared into the night.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“We need to kill him. Now.”

“We kill him, and we have a whole new army of guys coming for us.”

“Nothin’ I haven’t handled before. You think we can’t take ‘em?” Hovering over the open trunk of the car, Frank watches as your hand lightly slaps at the Colonels face, doing nothing to wake him from unconsciousness.

“I think that if we can use him to get New America off our backs, then we should before we kill him. At least get something out of this.” Frank slams the boot down, still pissed.

“The guys a leech. He’s got nothing, and he’s grasping at straws, pulling at your weakness to stay alive.” You sit up on the boot of the car, and your head snaps to him, eyebrows furrowed.

“I’m not that gullible. I just thought it would be smart to hear him out.”

“I could of told you what he told you. Bobby’s still coming for you, and he’ll be missing the man power and pull the Colonel gave him. If we don’t kill him, it’s gonna bite us in the ass either way.” Killing the Colonel would be the final string cut between the two groups, and as much as the guys were assholes, they were tamed in comparison to the Gnuccis. They were the real prize, and they still had your brother.

“If ‘New America’ finds out we killed him, which they probably expect, it will even give them reason to work with the Gnuccis. The enemy of my enemy and shit, right?” Your head drops to your chest, and you run one hand through your hair. Frank resists the urge to tuck it behind your ear. It falls against your face, and it looks soft, even more so under the morning sun.

“I’ve been thinkin’”

“Oh, here we go.”

“I think I have someone that can help us out with that.” Frank turns the gears in his head. Sure, if the ‘New America’ men found out their leader was butchered by the Punisher and a gang experiment duo, they might have more reason to side with the Gnuccis, or at the very least come after you and him on their own. But, if he could change the story, paint it as a betrayal by the Gnuccis themselves, it would stop them from breathing down your necks. Hell, maybe they’d do him a favour and knock down some of the Gnuccis while their at it.

“Another army buddy?“

“She’s a writer. Works for a newspaper. She could twist it, make it seem like the Gnuccis set him up.” You were nodding, sliding off the car and pacing around the back.

“There’s camera footage somewhere, right? If they were feeding the FBI a loop, something has to be capturing the original footage. A picture of Bobby Gnucci leaving in the car paired with a few bodies in the morgue, add a timeline and a few fancy words. Those guys will believe anything they read.” Fuck, you were smart. So much smarter than you gave yourself credit for. His hand was nearly making a dent on the truck. “Who is she?“

“Names Karen Page. She’s a-“ Frank paused. He’d never let it get anywhere for her to be considered anything, really. She was too good, and he needed her as far away from his shit as possible. The further he was from her, though, the less his feelings felt like anything other than love for a damn good friend. So that’s what he settled on. “A friend.”

“That’s a big pause for a friend.” You were standing almost underneath him now, head tiled back, a tiny smirk on your face. He could see one of the hickeys he’d given you just under your jaw, and his hand couldn’t hold back, brushing over it slightly.

“She’s a friend, and one that could get a whole lot of guys off our backs if we play it right.” You clearly aren’t done with the conversation, but the Colonel starts banging around in the boot, and your attention redirects.

Christ - he was going to enjoy dumping this guy.

The boot swings open and the Colonel, now gagged, was sitting and kicking around. You grabbed him with one hand and hauled him out of the car. There was nothing for miles, Frank had driven you out of the city and deep into bush land. No one would find a body out here until he wanted them to, or until he told Karen where you’d left it.

You ripped the gag out of his mouth and started talking, but he couldn’t hear what it was you were saying. Moving closer, he heard a dry laugh coming out of the Colonel, and you grabbed him by the collar.

“You thought on my offer?” He croaks out under the pressure you were putting on his throat.

“Shut the fuck up.” Frank groans.

“You getting your dog to-“

“Shut up.” You say through your teeth. You pull out the gun that Frank gave you, holding it to his head. “The only thing you should be doing is thanking me. This is a hundred times less what you deserve. In the next life, I will make it slow.”

The gun shot rings out, and the Colonels flesh splits neatly right at the centre of his temple.

“You satisfied?” Frank said from behind you.

“Not really, no. I don’t like guns.” He watches as your hands clench at your sides, and he knows you were holding back because this has to be believable. Ripping his head off isn’t exactly Bobby’s style. “Should we take a photo of it?” Frank was two steps ahead, pulling out a burner phone and snapping an image before shoving it back in his jacket pocket.

“So now we…what? Send it to her and wait?” You both turn back to the car, and Frank sighs.

“We’re gonna have to go to her.” You give him a quick sideways glance. “I don’t think she’ll answer the phone if she sees it’s me calling.”

“Great. So not only is it an ex, it’s a bad ex. What, did you like, cheat on her or something?”

“She’s not my god damn ex girlfriend. Drop it.” He knows it’s harsh. He sees you stop walking next to him, and he regrets it instantly. He wants to take it all back, reverse this whole fucked up day to when he was buried between your thighs. It was the only place he didn’t have to fucking think about all this.

Thinking of Karen with you next to him just feels… wrong. He’s still got a lot of love for her. She’s the only kind of family he has, but that’s really how he sees her. He isn’t sure he ever felt anything else for her, but she was there for him at a time when he had no one, and he held onto that like a life raft. That was nearly two and half years ago, though. He’d changed, and so had she, and he was happy for her, but the last time she’d seen him, it had been the same as it always was with her.

She needed him to be something else. She wanted him to change, to be the man he was before. If he was really honest, there was a time when he’d wanted that too - but it wasn’t possible. That version of himself was dead and buried with his family, and what lived now was… he was still trying to figure that out. Whatever it was, it wasn’t what a woman like Karen Page wanted, or needed. And truth be told, she wasn’t what he wanted.

You slide into the seat next to him, shoving the sunglasses onto your face and staring out the window. Everything in him drew him towards you, and the memory of just hours before was burning into his brain. The way you sounded saying his name like that… Frank didn’t think he’d be able to hear anything else for the rest of his life. You. You were what he wanted. He knew that more than he knew anything else. Especially right now, when he knew you probably needed him and he was being an asshole. You just killed the man who held you captive for two months, and here he was complaining about a girl.

“I-“ He starts, but you cut in.

“It’s fine. Just drive.” You lean your head against the window, jaw clenched shut. You were done talking, but he wasn’t.

“You got a thing about cuttin’ me off, huh?” He could see the roll of your eyes under the glasses as he pulled the car onto the road again. “I’m sorry. She’s… it’s a long story, and the main thing is none of it matters anymore.”

He sees your head turn dramatically towards him, eyebrows raised, flipping to the side as if to say ‘really?’.

“I’m serious.” His hand goes over the console to rest on your bare thigh. He runs up and down the exposed skin, and he thinks it the first time you’ve ever worn shorts. He shifts in his seat, and squeezes your leg lightly. “She’s a good friend, but it means nothin’.”

“Alright, I got it. You’re a free agent.” He uses everything he’s got to focus on the road, and not on the way you were watching his hand on your thigh, your breath hitching just slightly as his thumb stroked up and down. “How’s your arm?”

“Fine.” He lies. It was still bleeding 12 hours later, but he hadn’t had a fucking second to sew it up. He doesn’t care about that though, just about how he could make sweet little sounds come out of your mouth if he let his hand drift a little higher. Smirking, he sneaks a glance at you. “Are you feelin’ okay?”

“Definitely feeling something.” He feels the tense of your muscles under his hand as it crawls just an inch higher, and he smiles, blowing out a laugh. After a moment of silence, you crack again. “I’m not, like, jealous or anything. If she is more than a friend, I wouldn’t get in the wa-“

“Stop.” You hold up your hands in surrender, staring forward. He squeezes your thigh, bringing your attention back to him. “It was never like that. And it isn’t now. Besides, kind of got my hands full right now, don’t I?”

“Was that supposed to be a joke?” You’re smiling, which is a good sign. He knew he’d fuck whatever this was with you up eventually, but he didn’t think it would be that fast.

“I’m hilarious.” He looks over to you again, watching as you roll your eyes and angle your body slightly towards him. You yawn, and he’s suddenly aware of how long it’s been since either of you have slept. “You should get some rest.”

“So should you.”

“I’ve got a couple more hours in me.” He can’t think of sleeping when your leg is under his palm, and the way you’re moving on your seat, shifting slightly so he’s got more access if he wants it has him more alert and awake than ever.

��I don’t want you running us into a tree or something. Pull over.” Rationally, he should keep driving, because chances are the Gnucci’s are out looking for both of you, especially if they were tracking the Colonel. They would find his body soon, and then come for you. But you were already climbing into the back seat and you tugged on his arm once, asking him to follow, and he was indicating and pulling off the side of the road before he could think for another second.

Without another word, you’re pushing the seats down and he’s climbing over, his body wrapping you up, moulding together. It’s the most comfortable he’s ever been, even though the seat is tiny and he’s half falling off the back, he can’t think of anywhere he’d rather be. He tightens his arms around you.

“Frank.” You say softly, and his head buried itself into your back.

“Yeah?”

“You think this is gonna work?” The sun was still streaming into the car and he feels you shift back into him to press closer.

“The car? It’s a piece of shit. Wouldn’t be surprised if it busts into flames or some shit.” He feels your laugh against him, tired as it is, and kisses the back of your neck. “You’re gonna be fine.”

“I wasn’t talking about just me.” Your voice is as small as ever, and his hand gently sweeps across the hair in front of your face, just like he wanted to do before.

“I know.” You go to say something else, your mouth opens but nothing comes out, and before he knows it you’re dead asleep, body going limp against him.

It took him a while to realise, but since the moment he tied you to that radiator, he hasn’t had a single nightmare. Usually he’s waking up in cold sweats, breathing heavy and shaking his head until he realises where he is, where he’s not. Since you came around, though, he’s been sleeping like a fucking baby. He used to hate closing his eyes, it was like falling asleep was a punishment in itself, a comfort he didn’t deserve, but with you pressed against him, soft sounds coming from your mouth as he kisses the back of your neck, he lets himself drift off.

When he dreams now, it’s only of you.

[next chapter]

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

tag list:

@stress--relief

@hellskitchens-whore

@blkwayne

@itwasthereaminuteago

@margoo0

@daisykins

@paryl

@urlocalgeek

@hello-lisa1026

@castlesnchurches

@superbreadsoul

@lemon-world1

@officalpetergriffin

@batcreep

@quackson03

@violetsandroses8

#frank castle #marvel tv #the punisher #frank castle x reader #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x you #marvel #the punisher x reader #the punisher x y/n #the punisher x you

202 notes · View notes

yeslieutenant · 2 years

Note

Ok!!! I've always wanted to request this, but I never exactly knew who to ask. But you are the perfect person to write this one. My request is a breeding kink one. The reader and Jason are married, and they are trying for a baby, and Jason realizes that he has a kink for it while they are going at it, and then he just goes wild!!! 😍 (Maybe there can be some Daddy calling too... 👀)

Am I the one to go to for breeding kinks now? 😂😂 If so, I am so okay with this. I hope this is what you were looking for Kassie! I'm not great at writing from Jason's POV so I hope its okay that its from the readers POV.

A/N: I looked into the best ways to get pregnant, so some of the things in this story were brought over straight from the internet. Also a couple of joke-y things near the end. 😂

Warnings: Smut (p in v), daddy calling, breeding kink, a bit of cum play, language, bit of tease Jason until he loses his shit. (This may be the filthiest thing I have ever written 😅)

“Darlin’! I’m home!” His voice echos through the house and I rush over to the radio, turning it down to a more reasonable level.

“In the kitchen!” I call out in response, making my way back to the sizzling stovetop. The chicken smells much better than I thought it would at this point, and as I bend over to check on the potatoes in the oven I hear a whistle pierce the air around me. I stand up quickly, looking at the man blatantly staring at my ass.

“You know, they say catcalling is rude,” I mumble, turning back to dinner.

“It’s not catcalling if it’s my wife.” Jason says the word with a light chuckle and I feel his arms snake around my waist, dancing over my exposed thighs. Maybe wearing just his shirt and a pair of panties wasn’t the smartest choice. His rough fingertips trace over the lines of my panties under his shirt as his lips land on the crook of my neck and shoulder, laving it with kisses before his tongue darts out, tasting the skin there.

“Jase, I’m in the middle of making dinner,” I stutter out, my breath already hitching at his ministrations.

“How about you wait on that, and we make something else together?” His words are drawled out against my sensitive flesh, and a shiver runs down my spine. Jason notices this, smiling against my neck as his hands move inward, landing on that space between my thighs, finding my clit over my underwear. He works me over in slow, drawn out circles, and I lean forward, white-knuckling the handle of the oven. “You did promise me that I could start trying to put a baby in you today.”

I feel my knees wobble underneath me as Jason moves his hands away, gripping my hips and twisting to bring us face to face. He slides his palms under my thighs, lifting me effortlessly and walking us to the bedroom.

“I gotta turn the stove off, hon,” I mumble against his neck. Jason lets out a deep rumbling sigh before dramatically throwing me into our bed, my body bouncing with the motion. I watch as the marine tugs on the hem of his own shirt, tugging it over his head and exposing his toned abs and miles of creamy skin before turning and walking out the door. I sit there in confused silence for a minute before he appears as quickly as he disappeared.

“Stove is off. Anything else before I put a baby in you?” He asks, already toying with his belt. I shyly shake my head no. “Good.” His belt is open in seconds, along with the button and zipper on his jeans, exposing a flash of his tight boxers and accompanying bulge. Jason leans down, his arm resting on the duvet next to my head, his soft pink lips just barely grazing mine. I surge forward, trying to capture his mouth, only to have him back up, a shit eating grin plastered to his face, his dimples prominent.

“Jase,” I whine, but this only serves to make him chuckle.

“So needy for me, doll,” He says lowly, his accent thick with his teasing tone. The rough pads of his fingertips graze my thighs again before I feel his oversized shirt lift off my chest. I sit up, allowing the fabric to slide over my head, hiding my husband from my view for a brief moment. The shirt quickly joins the growing pile of clothes on the floor.

“Jason, please,” the words leave my lips unbiden, giving away how desperately I craved his touch. It was almost impossible for me to focus all day after our conversation last night. The one where we decided we were ready to have kids. All day, my mind was wandering to how it would feel being filled up by him, how he would hold me, where he would kiss and touch. All. Day.

Jason slides his hands into my panties, no doubt feeling the wet heat pooling there.

“Damn baby, you really want this. Were you thinking about me pumpin’ you full? I debated comin’ home on my lunch break just to fuck you into the couch,” His lips are right next to my ear, and I clench around nothing as his fingers slide through my slick, another dangerous chuckle leaving his throat at my movements. “You had enough teasin’, doll?” I nod quickly, desperately, as my nails find purchase on his shoulders, no doubt leaving small crescent indents in the skin. His lips finally land on mine, and I part my lips immediately, his tongue snaking out to tangle deliciously with my own. I feel the fabric around my hips being pushed down, and I release the man’s back, my hands landing on the tops of his jeans and dragging them down as well. I try to get his boxers down too, but they are tight, and I let out a groan of frustration. Jason smiles, almost adoringly, standing to his full height before hooking his thumbs in the waistband and tugging. The black cotton falls down his legs as his erection springs up, all but hitting him in the stomach, and I feel my muscles contract, once again, around nothing.

Jason rests his arms next to my head, caging me between the soft bed and his deep woodsy scent. I gingerly bring my legs up, wrapping them around his hips. He senses my hesitation immediately, bringing his face close to mine.

“You sure you’re alright, baby?” His deep brown eyes are focused entirely on me, despite his cock resting patiently at my entrance. I nod. “Nope. I gotta hear it, doll.”

“Yeah, I’m ready,” I say, albeit quieter than I intended.

“Yes, what?” The smirk he is wearing is dangerous, and the harsh blush latches itself onto my cheeks in embarrassment.

“Yes, I’m ready, daddy,” the word spills from my lips as I watch the young lieutenant’s eyes blow wide, his eyebrows shooting up, practically into his hairline as growl rumbles in his chest. He drops his head, a groan falling from his lips. When his brown eyes land on me again, he chuckles.

“I was expecting you to say Lieutenant.”

“But if I get pregnant, won’t you be a dadd-” I begin to mumble, but I am interrupted as Jason presses in, his length sliding home in one stroke. A gasp breaks free from my throat, and I feel Jason shift, grabbing a pillow from the top of the bed. His tattood arm slides under my lower back, lifting me easily as he slides the pillow under it.

“If you want me to blow my load way too fast, you keep calling me that,” He mutters in my ear before pulling slowly out, allowing me to feel every inch of him. He pauses, resting just his tip inside, his hands brushing a piece of hair from my face as he thrusts back in.

“Daddy,” the moan rips from my throat before I can stop it, and another groan leaves his lips. That’s when all hell breaks loose.

Jason leans up, resting his weight on his hands before snapping his hips forward, over and over. His name falls from my lips like a chant, his tip nudging my cervix on every re-entry. The gasps leaving my throat do nothing to bring in the air I need, and I find myself out of breath in moments as he practically forces the air out of my lungs on each thrust. My fingers tangle in his hair, tugging the soft dark strands. A groan surfaces from his chest and he leans back down, his face buried in my neck, his words mumbled and moaned to the point where it sounds like he could just be saying nonsense. His hips snap at an uncontrollable pace, and he quickly leans in.

“I’m gonna fill you up. Please, I need you to come for me, I can’t hold it, doll,” his voice is wrecked, begging and pleading for me to release around him, to squeeze him.

“Fill me up, daddy,” I moan, my voice rising in pitch, and I feel Jason tense above me, his tip hitting my cervix one final time before he comes. The groans and growls come out, his body losing strength as he comes down from the high. I run my hands through his hair, allowing him time to cool off and get his bearings before I hold his face between my hands, laving his face with kisses. He smiles sleepily as he pulls out, watching as some of his cum falls from my opening.

“You didn’t come,” Jason says, matter-of-factly.

“I don’t need to, hon. I’m fin-” His fingers run down my cunt, collecting the spilled semen before pressing his fingers back into my pussy, curling them to rub tenderly against my g-spot as his thumb circles over my clit. My back arches, a high pitched squeak leaving my throat at the motion, the flare of heat spreading from the tips of my toes all the way up, fogging my brain as his fingers continue to work magic over my body. He leans down, nibbling gently my pebbled nipple with his tongue until I clench tightly around his fingers and a breathless “daddy” leaves my lips, as if my brain only remembered him and him alone.

I come down from my high and notice Jason’s eyes still trained on me, a dope-y grin on his face, his smile contagious.

“Think it’ll take?” He asks, hopeful and bright.

“If not, we can always go again,” I say with a wink. His hands find the backs of my thighs, lifting them so the crease of my knees rests on his shoulders, my calves dangling behind his back lazily. I am practically upside down and I giggle. “Jase, what are you-”

I am rudely interrupted when Jason pulls away from the bed, his palms holding my thighs tightly, and I am completely upside down, my hair dangling below me as I let out a shriek. Jason laughs, a full bodied laugh that I can feel vibrate in his chest as I am pressed against his front.

“Gotta make sure it takes!” He says, his laughter making me laugh in response. He wiggles me gently, swaying me from side to side before lifting me up to drop me down an inch or two.

“Jason this is not going to help!” I all but yell, giggles breaking free between my words as he sways me before dropping me unceremoniously onto the bed. We are both breathless from laughing as he leans down, planting his lips on my own.

“I love you, and I can’t wait for our little family to grow, darlin’.”

Tags: @kawaiiwitch224 @yellowroseskolchek @house-of-kolchek @lorebite @buttermykolchek @katsufairies @kassiekolchek22

#jason kolchek smut #jason kolchek #house of ashes #jason kolchek x reader #jason kolchek fanfiction #house of ashes fanfic

153 notes · View notes

giggly-squiggily · 1 year

Note

okokok i have onnne laaast hc and after that i'm done i promise 😭 feel free to not write it if it's too much ofc!

the nagiri brainrot is still going strong so consider: chigiri is used to people calling him pretty and he doesn't really mind it, even tho most of the time, especially in blue lock, it has a teasing edge to it (pretty boy, pretty lady etc), it just kinda becomes something he doesn't pay much attention to.

then he starts sharing a room with nagi and one night he's sitting on his bed, doing his hair, and nagi just kinda watches him. when chigiri's like "what is it" nagi, very calmly and almost in a stoic manner, goes "you're beautiful" and chigiri straight up malfunctions which nagi ofc needs to investigate

hope you're having a wonderful day/night/time ♡♡

Headcanons To Dabbles: Officially CLOSED!

*flails* Rey, you are never too much when it comes to these headcanons! I've loved every single one you've sent in, and this is no exception! I've gotcha covered! :D

For the most part- Chigiri was used to being called “Pretty”.

“Doll.” “Princess.” “Missy.” Every teasy variation you could think of he’s heard- mainly from his time in Blue Lock. He wasn’t bothered by them anymore- if anything he felt more surprised to hear his real name the few times it came up. He was just so used to hearing it.

Until Nagi Seishiro spoke up, anyway.

“Can I…help you with something?” Chigiri blinked when he felt eyes on him. He and Nagi were the only ones in the room at the moment- Barou went to do some late evening training and Isagi disappeared to who knows where-most likely getting dinner. He and Nagi had already eaten earlier and were getting ready for bed. Well- Chigiri was.

Nagi didn’t speak, and when Chigiri turned to look at him, he found him lying a foot behind him, staring. “Sh-when’d you get in here?” Chigiri yelped, nearly dropping his hairdryer.

“You’re beautiful.” Nagi told him, voice calm.

Chigiri waited for the teasing grin, the “for a princess”, some sort of sign he was joking about. None came. If anything- Nagi looked deadly serious.

“Heh…funny.” Chigiri laughed weakly, waiting for the other to follow. Nagi only watched him. “Erm…uh…” His face was suddenly very warm, and he found it rather difficult to keep looking back at the older boy. Turning back to the floor, he cleared his throat. "W-well then."

"You’re so red.” Nagi scooted up the bed, all but leaning into Chigiri’s back as he reached around, feeling his forehead. “Are you getting sick?”

“Wh-What? No- no not at all.” The redhead leaned forward some, hiding his face with his hands. His heart was pounding in his chest, going a mile a minute. “I guess I’m just not used to…being called that.”

“Why? You are beautiful.” Nagi leaned in so his chin rested on Chigiri’s shoulder, a hand coming up to play with a stand of hair. “On and off the field- you’re like a blaze of sunlight.”

“Ugh, ew! Go away.” Chigiri elbowed him lightly. As if his blush couldn’t get worse! “Don’t start with the cliches!”

“But I mean it though.” Nagi poked him lightly. “You’re truly beautiful, from the way you wear your hair to your eyes to how graceful you look running on the field-”

Chigiri, overwhelmed with emotions he wasn't sure he was ready to process, grabbed the nearest pillow and shoved it into Nagi’s face, pushing him into the bed.

~~~

“God, do you two ever do anything besides smoosh?” Barou groaned as the doors to their room opened, him and Isagi beginning to walk in. “You’re so clingy it’s gross.”

“Don’t be such a hater-” Isagi began, stopping when Barou did. Inside the room, they had come to witness Chigiri trying to suffocate Nagi. His face was rather red, and he was saying something along the lines of "Shut up and die!" Nagi was mumbling back from beneath the pillow, limbs flying in an attempt to escape.

“Should we…?” Isagi began.

“Nope.” Barou turned, heading towards the shower. “If Mr Hassle's dead, I’m killing Princess when I get back.”

“...Kay.” Isagi shrugged, walking past the duo and crawling into his own bed, snuggling in. He heard the sound of Nagi breaking free, followed by what he imagined to be an epic pillow fight- something Barou would probably yell at them about when he got back.

Just another day in Blue Lock.

#headcanons to dabbles #blue lock #chigiri hyoma #nagi seishiro #barou shouei #isagi yoichi #nagiri #fluff #wait I'm kinda vibing with them though-#Like; I'm still a diehard Kunigiri girl #but I like the idea of Nagiri too kjeakjkjerjkarjka #help I'm cheating on all my OTPs!#kjarkjejkrkjajkearjka #No but seriously this one was fun to write aljrjekrajkekr

30 notes · View notes

joezworld · 2 years

Text

The Devil in Disguise (1/5)

Traintober 2022 Day 21 - Strangers

Hey guys so I wanted to try making a character that was straight-up unequivocally evil, so here's that.

Summary - A multiple unit and a diesel meet as strangers. Or are they?

⅕

1991 - London

The sun had barely just crested the horizon, but the city was already alive with the sounds of progress. Cars, trains, and even aircraft moved about, giving the air a feeling of charged potential. Anything could happen in the Capitol!

In one of the many rail yards that dotted the city, a class 47 was being prepared for the day’s duties. She was freshly painted, and sparkled in her red and black Rail Express Systems livery.

You’ve got to look good in order to feel good! She thought to herself as her driver checked her over. As was expected, he found no defects, and after a brief stop at the fuel pumps, she was off, up the line a little bit to one of the MPDs where they kept the multiple units.

She’d been tasked with a very special job today, and it was going to be a real cracker, she could just feel it!

She rolled into the next MPD, a jaunty tune on her lips. The multiple units hissed at her, as they were wont to do - they worked long hours and had little chance for rest - but she ignored them. After all, as their better, she could make as much noise as she well pleased!

“Wakey wakey!” She tooted her horn gaily as she rolled up to a specific unit who had been parked outside the sheds. He at least had been washed, which made him more presentable than some of the scruffier looking units around. “It’s time to get up and be productive! All your passengers are waiting for you!”

“Oi! Knock it off! They’ve just only been withdrawn!” One of the newer, shinier, units called to her.

New he might have been, but a multiple unit he still was, and she ignored him with a cheerful flash of her perfectly done eyelashes. “Alright you… whatever your number is! Come on! We’ve work to do!”

“Do we.” The unit didn’t really seem interested in her, staring off into the distance with a set jaw. “And what work is that.”

“The testing!” She beamed, not letting a silly spoilsport of a multiple unit ruin her day. “For the push pull controls! If this works, they’ll take your lot and turn you into mail vans for me and my family!”

“Ah. How wonderful. You being linked to me.”

“Isn’t it just? Then we can be even more efficient with the mail trains because the driver can stand in your cab on the return journey! We’ll shave off loads of time!”

The multiple unit - he was a 307, now that she remembered - scowled deeply, didn’t say anything else as she was connected to him. They set off down the mainline without another word, her B-end cab leading the way, and she couldn’t help but feeling like she’d offended him in some way. Ah well, I probably woke him up too early. Not everyone’s as poised and perfect as me.

Perfect. That was a good word for her. She’d served honorably in BR for decades now, and she was being rewarded with testing duties! It was so exciting, being at the forefront of technology and progress.

So exciting, in fact, that she couldn’t keep a smile off her face all the way to Hatfield station. There, a group of workers met them on the platform, piling into the 307, before they set off a few miles more to Stevenage, where they stopped in a goods loop.

In between commuter trains, the 47 was run around her train, and backed down onto the 307, now facing towards London.

The men were very careful in linking the multiple unit connectors, poking and prodding the cables to make sure everything was secure. When they were satisfied that everything was set, they plugged the two together, and walked back into the 307, where they’d set up many different computers to monitor the connection.

“Can you hear me?” She asked down the connection.

There was a very long silence. She wondered if the unit had fallen asleep - after all, nothing could be wrong with her connections. “Yo-hoo! Everybody awake back there?”

“You have no idea who I am, do you?” The 307 hissed, a caustic sound that boiled up out of the MU connection.

“What?” She recoiled from the cruelty of the tone.

“Of course not. The gas axe forgets what the steel remembers.”

“Beg your pardon?” She spluttered and coughed, totally blindsided by the 307’s anger, which was practically radiating through the multiple unit cables. “I’ve never met you before!”

“Oh give. It. up.” He growled, an angry sound. “You can change your number and your stripes but you can’t change your soul. I clocked you the moment you oozed into my yard like the cancer you are.”

“Come again?”

“The eyes are the window to the soul. I looked into yours and saw the devil that I saw last time.”

“WHAT LAST TIME?!” She all but shrieked. “WHO DO YOU THINK I AM?!”

There was a long and angry pause from the multiple unit. “You’re D1772. You rolled into my life so long ago I barely remember a time before.”

That was her old number… “Did something happen?” She wracked her memory for something involving these odd little electric coaches.

A scoff rolled down the multiple unit lines. “You really don’t remember, do you?”

“I don’t!”

“Stratford. And Ilford. The 1960s.”

“I was at Stratford for a while, but I don’t recall Ilford at all. Wasn’t that where I got you from today?”

“Typical. You’re the inflection point of my entire existence and you can’t even remember it.”

“I suppose it was an important time for you, but for me it was just the 1960s.”

That got a response, a metallic roar that sparked and popped down the MU connector, causing her to jump, and sending men scrambling outside to check the connections as the 307 silently raged.

“Allow me to refresh your memory…” He seethed once he’d calmed.

The Great Eastern Main Line - 1959

A multiple unit scuttled down the line. His mission - a most unusual rescue.

The goods train hove into view as he rounded a corner near Stratford, the failed engine on the front leaking sooty smoke from places it should not have.

“Evening!” He called as he drew near to it. “Having a spot of bother?”

A smiling face looked back at him, the features achingly gorgeous even under a healthy dose of soot.

“I was.” she said, her voice a chorus from heaven itself. “But I don’t think I am anymore.”

“She was my angel. My beloved.”

Romance blossomed in the places management couldn’t see. The other multiple units and her own family covered for them as best they could.

They were based from different depots, but they made it work. A quick glance across the platforms. A ‘chance’ meeting in a goods loop, planned well in advance. The oddest station pilot duties anyone could imagine.

Whatever it took for each other.

“We had the world at our buffers. Our lives ahead of us.”

Big diesels began appearing more and more. Filtering in from other regions and other depots, they made their approach to Stratford. They were kind, in the upper-class way express engines strove to be.

One of them, a two-tone-green type four, newly outshopped by Brush, rolled into the yard sometime in the middle of the decade. Her beauty, exquisite. Her smile, measured in gigawatts. She listened when engines talked, laughed at their jokes.

She looked like an angel. Talked like one too.

“Then you slithered in.”

She soon had the yard eating off of the backs of her buffers.

Coaches wanted her to pull them.

Trucks worshipped the rails she rolled on.

Engines wanted to be her. Or be with her.

And even the multiple units, a little ways up the line at Ilford, took their chances at Aphrodite made metal.

Well, most of them did.

“You fooled them with your kisses.”

One unit in particular was too caught up in his own storybook tale to notice the God in his midst.

And so, he was the only one paying attention, when the yards started to break down.

First it was petty disputes, squabbles that elevated to massive heights out of nowhere.

Then it was rows. Screaming, abusive fights that tore through the sheds at Stratford. Engine against engine. Friend against friend. Brother against sister.

One night his love rolled into the multiple unit depot, tears in her eyes. Her family had turned against itself. She had no-one, or so it seemed.

“You cheated and you schemed.”

He should have known better.

A week later and it was like her troubles had never existed. She smiled at everything. Frowned at nothing. She spoke to him warmly, but he could see that her eyes hid something.

He spoke about it to his siblings. They advised he leave it; probably some horrible thing someone said, that she wants to forget.

So he left it.

And then she left him.

For her.

“Heaven knows how you lied to them.”

His world turned to black and white, all the colour leached out of it. His heart turned cold, and his words sharp. He blamed everyone for what transpired, most of all himself.

An outcast in his own yard, he soon became, exiled by his ever-sharpening tongue. It gave him time to think, and more importantly, time to watch.

Watch as a two-tone-green type 4 rolled into and out of his yard with impunity. How she spoke to his family with honored trust. How they listened to what she said.

How she said one thing to one group, and another to the rest.

How the arguments broke out as soon as she left.

How she did the same at Stratford.

How she turned his love into a simpering toady, parroting her cruel and thoughtless words like a shoddy impersonation of the real thing.

“You weren’t the way you seemed. You might’ve talked like an angel, and moved like an angel, but I got wise. I knew what you were.”

He paused, taking in a deep rattling breath.

“You were the devil, in disguise.”

The 47 had listened to the 307 go on and on, and was wracking her brain for where she’d heard this story before. “Hang on, was that you back in 1966?!” She laughed, a joyous and happy sound. “You were in love with that thing?”

The men gathered around the multiple unit cables jumped again as a single long spark arced off of the metal connector. They conferred with each other, and began wrapping more electrical tape around the cables, ignoring whatever their diesel was laughing at.

“Oh don’t be like that!” She hooted gaily. “It was an inferior being! Don’t tell me you actually had feelings for it?!! Ha ha ha! My word! Whatever possessed you to do that? Pity?!”

At this point, the men had mummified the multiple unit cables in thick insulating tape. There were no sparks as a result, but power surges of unknown origin popped up on the computer readouts. Because this was British Rail, the computers still output data onto huge rolls of paper via a printer, and with all the men standing outside, the powerful, anomalous, and off-the-chart readings were soon covered by more paper.

“I LOVED HER!” He raged against the diesel’s mockery. “I LOVE HER STILL! AND YOU - YOU MADE HER INTO A MONSTER!”

For three long years, he had to watch as the devil and her demon turned the lives of every engine and multiple unit - his included - in Stratford and Ilford into a living hell. Kind words were rationed, to be used sparingly, on passengers, managers, and the occasional visiting engine.

He tried, a few times more than he should have, to get through to his love.

It was not successful. Her mind had been warped and twisted from the inside out. Each time he left, a little part of his soul died, until all there was left was cruelty and spite.

One afternoon, almost a decade after they first met, they glared at each other across a platform, in London. She was bringing a group of vans into the station, for a post train to the north. He, a commuter train to Southend.

“I suppose you’ve got something to say like you always do?” She said, her beautiful face twisted into a mockery of the class 47’s trademark grin.

He wanted to tell her what he really felt - how he hated everything about his life, himself included, and that he wished that they’d never met, but at that moment, a gasping and clanking Standard 4 wheezed into the station with a long distance train. The sheer noise and calamity from his arrival made speech almost impossible.

“Yes!” He said, raising his voice over the steamer, looking her dead in the eye. “Fuck off and die!”

With that he whirred away, his pantographs sparking angrily.

He didn’t look back to see her expression, and he managed to put her out of his mind until he was on his way back from Southend.

Whirring into Stratford station, he looked over at the yard to the depot, and found her and three of her siblings parked in the out-of-use line.

“Another breakdown?” He called, a smile tickling his lips as he realized he no longer felt bad about needling them for their poor reliability.

“We’ve been withdrawn!” One of them shouted, his voice tinged with horror. “Just like that!”

“Not even a warning!” Cried another.

“They can’t be serious?” His love asked, still trying to come to grips with what was happening.

Again, steam was to break his composure. A tank engine, so filthy that he couldn’t even see the number or guess at a gender, clanked through the station, a line of sooty coaches clattering behind it. He looked at the filthy steamer - still earning its keep, then at his love and her siblings - sparkling clean from the morning washdown but set to be demolished now.

He burst out laughing - a cathartic, unsympathetic sound that caused his love’s face to crater in shock - and then left, not sparing them a second glance as he rolled towards Liverpool Street. “See you rotters in hell!”

“So?” The 47 asked, now thoroughly confused. “You hated them. As you should have. What has you so angry?”

Shocked and angry stammering met this. The power readings spiked again, and his pantographs fluttered on their springs.

He returned with the next service, unsurprised to see the devil herself near the out-of-use lines. She probably would get this undone, somehow, and then he’d be subjected to them all for a while longer, until something happened to get someone transferred to a new depot.

Honestly he didn’t care if they transferred him to the bottom of the English Channel at this rate.

What did surprise him was that the rest of Stratford's allocation of his once-love’s class - all ten of them - marshalled one behind the other in a line, the devil at the front.

“Right ho!” He heard her cry out in glee. “We’re off then! Next stop, the scrap heap! Say goodbye everyone!”

The horrified screams, begs, shouts, and pleas that followed the train as it rolled north broke his hatred like a brick through a window, and he sprinted after them once the signal dropped.

The signalmen must have been “in” on whatever was going on, because the train of the damned scuttled out of Stratford and down the line faster than he could chase it, and when he reached the point where the line for Southend diverged from the main, it was just a speck in the distance.

Several hours later, he returned with a heavy heart, and found an equally morose yard.

“They’ve sent her away…” mourned an 08. “Just like that.”

“To think they made her haul away all the rest too…” Muttered a 40.

“I can’t believe they’re all gone.” One of his brothers sighed.

“You mean she got herself a transfer?!” He gasped, unable to comprehend what he was hearing.

“The last time I saw you, or her, was that day.” He seethed through the lines, rage almost palpable. “You hauled them off to die, and did it with a smile on your face.”

The diesel rolled her eyes at that. “Well, I think I shed a tear or two. For appearance’s sake.”

“You sociopath. Was any of it real? Did you love her?”

“Because I wanted you to know exactly why I’m doing this.” The 307 said this out loud.

“No. Not really.” She said breezily, then paused for a moment. “Honestly I would've left her alone, but I must've felt like slumming it or something. She was fun, at least."

Inside the multiple unit, the printer and the computer sparked and coughed smoke from a power surge. Above, light bulbs popped, sending glass raining down onto empty seats.

She rolled her eyes at his rage, totally unperturbed. "You know, I figured out who you were like half an hour ago. Why’d you keep telling me this sob story?”

With the quiet swish of oiled springs, his pantographs lifted from his roof, and made the connection with the brand-new overhead lines of the East Coast Main Line.

Power surged through the multiple unit connection, and the 47 shrieked as she felt her throttle move on its own, her engine revving to full power as the brakes hissed off.

Men tried to leap onboard and take control, but they couldn’t reach anything before the train was moving too fast. Within a moment, they were out of the goods loop and onto the ECML, powering towards London, with nobody aboard.

Behind her, the 307 drew in power from the overhead lines, and surged backwards, pushing against the 47 as they began to roll forward.

To Be Continued…

#traintober2022 #traintober 2022 #traintober #ttte #fic #sentient vehicle headcanon #sentient vehicles #trains #british rail #dark #probably?

37 notes · View notes