#love that it seems like writers actually tried to give her her own light even tho is not been much is something | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

filthyfluffyfantasies · 7 months

Text

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . DL;DR - this fic is not meant for anyone under the age of 18 as it contains the following: dirty talk, use of petnames ( sweetheart, princess, etc ), unprotected p/v sex, -wrap it before you tap it, darlings, swearing, mention of oral sex, body fluids, creampie -because Harrington has a weak pullout game, kissing/saliva and just a pinch of biting/marking. writer does not give permission for her works to be reposted, with or without permission. ✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

prompt two - lovemaking

character | fandom - steve harrington | stranger things

reader | original character - female reader, roommate & non -or vague, description.

words - roughly 4.2k

tagging - < taglist here >

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . a storm. your roommate Steve decides to take your mind off of said storm. just a lil soft and oh-so sweet tender lovemaking, ftw✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

❝ Its just a storm, woman.❞ Robin’s laugh on the other end of the line has you pouting. Holding a red telephone away from you as you flip it off.

As the lights flicker throughout the apartment, you shriek. . ❝ That was my freaking ear, good Lord. Relax.❞ Robin's coaxing doesn't do a thing to soothe your frazzled nerves though.

There's only one person who can but he's working late tonight and if I were to tell him storms freak me out -or anything I may or may not be keeping from him lately, pretty sure it's only going to mess up everything. - the thought is frustrating for you because lately, telling him everything is all you seem to want to do. The urge to do so has gotten so bad that you're trying as hard as you can to keep a healthy distance from Steve.

This storm just might have the potential to undo all of your efforts, especially if it worsens - and God forbid there's a blackout, you pause and glare up at the overhead lights in the kitchen as they choose that exact second to flicker even more. The loud clap of thunder and the way strong wind gusts send a branch right into the fire escape outside, a violent crash both ways is met with another scream from you.

❝ Steve should be there in another hour. With Keith in the store, it takes at least thirty minutes for Steve to close. But then your big, strong, manly man will be home.❞ Robin’s taunting you, snorting in laughter through loud static on the line, as she throws in, ❝ Y'know…you could do something. He's always been a sucker for the damsel in distress thing. He needs someone to do something. He's been real down lately.❞ she pauses.

You sigh, shaking your head despite your best friends inability to see you. You know what she's saying is true. What she doesn't seem to understand is that you've tried. Too many times to count. But the words always get hung in your throat or it's not a good time, it's not the right time, he's heading out the door on another of his dating attempts. It's frustrating for you, but you have tried. In the only ways you know how. If only subtle worked.. - you think to yourself, pacing the living room of the apartment you share with Steve as the storm picks up even more outside, the lights inside the apartment flicker even more.

❝ Gee, I wonder why that is..❞ she hints again.

But as usual, you don't pick up on the not-so subtle hint and you muse aloud, ❝ I don't know. Maybe his date with that girl he talked about didn’t go the way he wanted it to? He's definitely seemed moodier lately..❞ as you pout a little.

You’re selfishly glad it didn't work out but you're also sad for him. You love him and you hate to see him hurt or upset. And Heidi had been all wrong for him from the word go, your own personal opinion.

❝ Or…hear me out, woman..❞ Robin counters, a pause to rub the bridge of her nose as she thinks of the best way to clue you in, hoping that maybe this time you'll believe her, ❝ Maybe it's because he thinks that you, the girl he really wants, isn't interested. Maybe that's the reason?❞

You laugh. ❝ Right. And I'm actually Madonna, I swear on the Bible. He doesn't see me like that, Robbie. If he did, it'd be painfully obvious by now how I feel about him.❞

Robin grumbles, it's something about how impossibly stubborn you happen to be and in the midst of all that, the power goes out. The bad storm outside is downright nasty now, winds howling as the thunder rolls, constant.

You don't even get the luxury of a dial tone when the power goes, you're left holding the landline in your hand as you jump at every single little noise.

❝ God I hope he's safe coming in. The sooner, the better.❞ you mumble to yourself as you flop back against the couch dramatically.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ ･｡ﾟ ───

It felt as if Keith wasn't ever going to shut the fuck up. And then, because of course that's how it'd go, Steve thinks to himself as he rushes through closing procedure so he's not out in the worst of the storm that's rolled into town -and so he can rush home to you, where he'd rather be to begin with, Robin rushes in, whatever she's got to tell him is apparently life or death and no, it absolutely can't wait until their next shared shift.

❝ Steve!❞ Robin throws up her hands, exasperated because she can tell he isn’t listening to her, ❝ Were you listening to me at all?❞

❝ Yeah?❞ he replies, sheepishly. ❝ Okay, alright. Sorry! Look, can't you just try to tell me I'm wrong and I'm an idiot tomorrow? When there's not a goddamn storm outside?❞

He makes a step to the door but Robin blocks him and she's ranting, going on and on about how the two of you are the most stubborn individuals she's ever had the pleasure of knowing.

❝ Just say it, Robin.❞ Steve murmurs, gazing at his best friend, throughly confused.

❝ She’s in love with you, idiot! ❞ Robin blurts it out as she thrusts a piece of paper that you'd doodled on earlier in the week when you came in to hang out with her on his day off at him and nods to it, ❝ If she wasn’t, she wouldn’t constantly doodle her first name and your last all over everything! Girls..we don't uh..we don't do that unless we're head over heels, idiot! She does it all the time! And she's always waiting up when you’re out with the guys or some random girl. She constantly talks about you.. I'm telling you, she really loves you, shes just…scared.❞

Steve stares at the sheet of paper with the Family Video letterhead on top of it, dazed.

❝ She’s at your apartment and when I talked to her a few minutes ago, this storm had her freaking out. Do something, idiot. She won't because she's scared it's going to make things awkward.❞

❝ Wait…what do you mean, freaking out?❞ he's concerned as soon as Robin hints that there's something wrong, that you're even a little scared right now.

Robin shakes her head and laughs. ❝ Storms, Steve. She’s scared to death of storms. Kind of happens when you've lived through a hurricane and at least 10 tornaodes.❞

Steve gapes at this. One of his hands raises, fingers tug at shaggy brown strands as he inhales deep and then exhales slowly. Like he's just gotten the breath knocked right out of him. And in a way, he has.

❝ She’s there.. Waiting for me..❞ Steve questions. Robin nods, ❝ All alone in this storm. Scared.❞ she places heavy emphasis on the fact that you're alone and scared because she knows you both entirely too well at this point. He needs to feel strong. Protective. Whenever he gets all strong and protective, it melts you completely.

Steve blows out a ragged breath. A hand rested against the back of his head as he stares down at the doodled piece of paper.

Your first name and his last.

It fits together so perfectly. Everything falls into place and he looks at Robin. ❝ You.. You’re not kidding.❞

❝ No, dingus! Just go! I'll take over tonight. Just go! Do something or I swear to God..❞ Robin laughs as Steve pockets his keys and grabs his jacket in a rush, nearly walking straight into the closed door of Family Video in his hurry to get to you.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ ･｡ﾟ ───

The power is out and the storm is getting so much worse. You’re pacing the living room, pausing every few seconds to stare out the big window that leads to the fire escape as you hug yourself.

❝ God, I just hope he's okay and he doesn't let Billy or Tommy or Eddie con him into going out in this crap after his shift.❞ you mumble to yourself, shrieking as the lightning strikes the tree across the street.

You're so caught up in the storm and freaking out about it that you don't hear the door when Steve unlocks it from the outside. Or the way he pauses to call out your name because the rumbling thunder drowns out his voice.

But he hears you just as you've shrieked at how close the lightning is getting.

Strong arms circle your waist from behind and you jump, shrieking again with a dirty look as Steve turns you around and shines the old red flashlight beneath his chin, just barely illuminating the lower portion of his face. He chuckles and as the husky sound fades, you pout up at him.

❝ Are you okay?❞ - he's quieter when he asks, honey eyes so tender as they fix on you in concern. He’s chuckling too but only a little.

He doesn't like the thought of anything scaring you.

❝ Y-yeah.It's dumb.❞ you laugh, the sound quiet, a sheepish shrug as your head tilts just the slightest to look up at him. ❝ You'd think after I lived through a hurricane on the coast and at least ten tornadoes, this.❞ you gesture to the raging storm outside the big window, ❝ Wouldn’t bother me at all.❞

❝Hey, hey.❞ he coaxes as he pulls you against him, ❝ You’re okay. Its okay.❞ and the way his hand skims over your back sends a shiver racing through you. You pull away a little to look up at him and nod. Through shaky breaths, you mumble ❝ I..I know.❞ -the sound is muffled because a louder clap of thunder sends your head into his chest as you seek comfort.

His fingers drag through your hair and for a minute or two, he stands in the darkness, holding you close. He's not saying a word and neither are you at first but then the silence is too much, it's too thick and you just can't take any more. You pull away a little and he frowns to himself because he misses the soft warmth of you pressing against him.

❝ I'm..❞ you pause. Take a deep breath or two and stare up at the way the moonlight and lightning highlight a strong and stubble-lined jaw.

❝ You’re what?❞ Steve questions, fingers tuck beneath your chin to get you looking up at him again. ❝ C'mon. I can’t help if I don’t know whats wrong.❞

❝ I..I'm glad you’re here right now and...❞ you're stumbling over your words and trying to make your usual internal filter work but it's just about gone, you manage a quieter ❝ Nevermind..its probably dumb t' say.❞

He tilts your chin upward again because you're looking down, a steady gaze fixed on his chest. You can't help it, the more you look at him, the harder it is not to completely bare your soul. ❝ No, just say it.❞ he coaxes. When you try, the words that have been threatening to burst out, those three big ones, they're lodged in your throat and it's frustrating for you, so very frustrating.

❝ You are, huh?❞ he chuckles to himself after a few seconds of the thick silence, the sound dying out quietly as he stares down at you. What you said, that you're glad he's with you, that starts to sink in. And he’s on autopilot.

❝ Yeah. I was worried you'd be stuck driving in the worst of it. Or you'd let one of the guys talk you into drinks again tonight. ❞ you mumble quietly as you take a deep breath. ❝ I always worry about you when you're out...❞

His heart is so goddamn full when you say it that he thinks it just might explode. ❝ You were, huh?❞ he questions as he makes you look up at him all over again, ❝ I wanted to come home. To make sure you were okay.❞ he admits, going quiet for a few seconds.

You're the one stunned silent, you blink at him in surprise as you try to process what he's just saying. He wanted to come back. To the apartment. To make sure you were alright.

You try to give him just a little space as you tell yourself he obviously meant it in a friendly way, not the way you wish, the way a concerned lover would mean what he's just said. You pulling away has him frowning to himself in the semi darkness.

❝ Where are you going,hm?❞ his voice husky, full of affection that he can't just keep holding back. He pulls you close all over again and he can feel the fast thudthudthud thud as your heart hammers against your chest. He can feel the way you're shaking just barely.

Robin is right he thinks to himself one of us needs to say something. Do something. And I can't fight anymore.

You breathe in the scent of his cologne, the faint trace of cigarette smoke and buttery popcorn that clings to the scratchy green Family Video vest he's yet to take off. And you’re trying so hard not to invade his space any more than he allows but he pulls you even closer and before you can stop yourself, you're melting into him. Strong arms wrap around you tighter.

❝ Nowhere, I..I just thought..❞ your words are cut off by his mouth as it crashes against your mouth, clumsy. Sweet. You can taste the cigarette and soda on his breath and it takes a second but you realize what's happening and melt into him even more, your hand raised and raking through damp brown hair as your mouth falls open, willing.

Steve bends down slightly, hands on your ass as he pulls you up his body. The kiss deepens, you're breathing for each other now and one of your hands settles soft against his stubbled cheek. He nuzzles against your palm as he steps over to the sofa and sinks down, arranging you in his lap.

His hands are all over you, his nose brushes against your neck as he nuzzles some fallen hair out of his way. Your breath catches in your throat as rough lips dance hot against your pulse, latching against soft skin here and there.

You're shifted forward in his lap as he makes a clumsy attempt to adjust himself and pull you closer at the same time. When you whine out softly against his neck as your lips stray from his, he pauses, staring up at the way you're perched on his lap. The moonlight highlights your delicate features and he’s mesmerized by you, a hand leaves its resting place on your ass to settle against the column of your neck. Before he can stop himself, he's leaning in, his mouth crashing against yours, devouring as a groan leaves his lips to hang in the air, followed by a whine from you as you squirm around in his lap, desperate for the friction you were getting a few minutes ago.

You're the one who deepens the kiss, your small, soft hand rested up against his neck to pull him in. His hand leaves your hip to card through and pull lightly at your thick hair as he deepens the kiss even more.

His other hand slips between your joined bodies as you pull apart to breathe, staring at one another wide-eyed and in awe. It settles beneath the hem of the shirt you've sneaked out of his laundry to sleep in most nights lately.

❝ Steve?❞ - you breathe his name out against his mouth as another loud pop explodes outside and sends you straight for the safety that only he has ever seemed to offer you. Your face is buried in his neck for a few seconds and he attempts to adjust himself, thick digits dig in against your thigh and lower back when you squirm a little, his cock pulsing, pushed against the zip of his favorite jeans. ❝ Yeah?❞ - his breath tickles your neck, the sound of his voice thicker, desire dripping from the word.

He tilts your chin, gets you looking up at him. He's barely hanging on, his restraint is a thin thread that frays just a little more every time you rub yourself against him or your lips graze his neck just right. ❝ What’s up, princess?❞

❝ I-I..❞ the words hang in your throat just shy of saying them. It's frustrating because all you want to do is tell him how much you love him.

❝ You what, hm? C'mon, you can tell me.. I-I mean it. You can tell me anything, okay?❞ he mutters, dipping his mouth, placing soft little pecks against your face and neck as the hand on your thigh slips under the shirt you're wearing, tenderly caressing, the touch of his hand making you whimper and rock yourself against him. He bucks himself up into you, a hand raised to brush some hair out of your eyes.

❝ I love you.❞ it finally slips out and as it does, so does the rest that you've held back for weeks now. ❝ I love you.❞ he mutters, his lips dance down your throbbing pulse as he murmurs quietly, ❝ I love you too, princess..❞ his lips latch against your skin, ❝ so, so much.❞ looking up to lock eyes with you before giving a glance to the marks he's left against your skin.

His hand creeps higher, when he starts to rub you through your panties, he growls quietly when his hand comes away wet, bucking himself up into you. ❝Want you so bad, princess.❞ he mutters, dazed as he stands, you wrapped around him, breathless. Muttering his name like he's your God and you're worshipping him. ❝ Lets see if we can take your mind off the storm, baby.. do you want me to help you do that?❞

You nod, back up against the cool wooden door, the knob poking at your side and your legs around his waist. His hands -and mouth, are all over you as he ruts himself into you, the battle with his restraint lost.

❝ Please?❞ you gasp out as you rub against him clumsily. He's marked up your neck and no doubt, come the morning, there will be a few handprints left behind against your skin because he's holding onto you and squeezing you like your lives depend on it.

The storm is forgotten, you're tossed gently onto his bed as he follows you down, his body engulfing yours, holding your legs apart by the way he settles between them. The Family Video vest finds its way to the floor and everything is happening fast and yet, not fast enough. He’s tugging down pretty pink cotton and as your panties settle on his bedroom floor, he leans down into you closer, a hand between your thighs, ❝ I did this..❞ he murmurs against your ear as soon as he feels the way you're already dripping for him. He's dazed, he hasn't really done anything to you yet and there's already a little wet spot forming below you on his bed. And you're so responsive, every touch or kiss, every time he squeezes and rubs your warm, wet sex you're whining, you arch yourself towards him like he's not as close as he can get already.

❝ You’re wearing too much.❞ you whine out against the shell of his ear in frustration as your legs circle his waist and you keep trying to rub against him to chase the friction you've gotten so desperate for. Your hand finds the bottom of the snug fit brown and cream striped polo he wore to work and you're trying to tug it upward. Steve chuckles quietly as he raises up, pulling off his shirt.

The polo settles on the floor of his bedroom beside your discarded panties and he settles himself back down against you, his lower body keeping your legs open wide as his mouth strays from your mouth and his lips latch against your pulse, suction forming a bruise you can feel as he sucks your neck, marking you.

❝ — ah fuck.❞ he growls quietly as he ruts himself against you, chasing his own friction. ❝ W-wanna taste you, princess.❞ his breath is warm against your skin, soft pecks fall from rough lips, settling on your soft and warm skin. His hands linger at the bottom of the soft golden colored sweater you stole from him to wear. You bite your lip as you stare up at him, begging. His name falls out of your mouth like a prayer, urgent; needy.

He chuckles to himself, pulling you up as he works the oversized sweatshirt over your head, letting it fall from his fingertips and settle on his bedroom floor with the other clothes.

You go for the button on his jeans and there's this cute little shy smile you give as the two of you lock eyes while you're doing it that drives him wild.As you unzip his jeans, he gasps because your hand grazes against the way his cock is straining against soft navy cotton, begging to be freed. His head falls back for a second or two, honey eyes flutter closed as you just barely drag your finger over the thick outline.

That's how you find yourself pushed back against the bed seconds later as soon as he's kicked jeans and boxers free from his ankles.

You swallow hard, eyes roam his body slow. Desire making your pupils big enough they blot out the usual color of your irises. It's the first time anyone has ever looked at him with more than temporary lust in their gaze. He’s pushed you against his bed now, you were so caught up in staring at the man you love that you never saw it coming when it happened.

One hand pins your wrists above your head as his other hand squeezes your curvy little body and he takes in the way it feels to cage you in beneath him, skin against skin and the cookie sweet scent of your cheap perfume filling his lungs as he nuzzles into your neck and breathes it in deep.

He rocks himself against you, the thick length of him dragging right between your folds and when you shiver and whine, he raises up, hand leaving your hip to caress your cheek as he stares down at you, in awe. ❝ So pretty, baby.❞ he mutters as he settles down into you all over again, the tip of his length teasing you, making that white hot ache that's built up inside of you boil over.

❝ You’re the pretty one.❞ you mumble softly as your lips latch against his hot skin. Your soft,full lips against the top of his chest -right over the way his heart is about to beat right out of his chest, it feels so good that he gasps quietly.

He releases his hold on your wrists because he'd rather be holding your hand. His fingers lace with yours and he takes a little nip at your bottom lip when he goes in for another kiss, a string of saliva keeping your mouths connected after you break apart to breathe.

❝ Don't let me hurt you, princess.❞ he mutters soft against your ear as he settles himself down into you fully, his thick length pushing into you, drawing a gasp out as you feel the burn of being stretched out.

He feels you tense up slightly and he stops right away, making you whine in need as you pout up at him. ❝ I don’t wanna hurt you.❞ he murmurs as he presses hot and gentle kisses and bites against your bare skin, leaving his mark behind as many times as he can because he wants everyone to know you’re taken, you’re his girl now, absolutely no doubt.

❝ Please? I-I..I need you now, Steve.❞ you beg as you try to rock yourself up into him as the burning subsides and its replaced by all the dopamine you’re currently flooded with being thisclose to the man you love, the feel of his body engulfing yours. Steve starts to fuck into you and its slow, its gentle and so deep that every inch of him is felt as he buries inside you.

You raise a hand, letting it catch against his cheek and he laughs softly, nuzzled against your palm. His forehead settles against yours.

The way you clamp around him so tight has him groaning your name with each lazy little thrust. He tries to speed up a little but he can feel himself getting closer so he comes to a slow stop, kissing you long and deep enough to totally steal your breath.

The nasty storm outside has been completely forgotten and it's come to a slowdown, the loud and angry thunder replaced by the soft pitter-patter of rain against the windows. Neither of you notice or care, too focused on what's happening between the two of you instead.

You meet his deep thrusts with clumsy little rocks, your hips meeting his perfectly in sync. ❝ S' good f' me, baby. So so good.❞ he grunts against your neck as he bottoms out, cock pushing against the spongy softness of your g-spot as your nails dig against his shoulders and rake over his back. ❝ Gonna cum f' me, princess? That's it, cum all over my cock.❞ and the command is all it takes to send you crashing, your orgasm blinding as it washes over you and you cling to his body, moaning his name as you clamp around his cock and nearly push him straight into his own orgasm.

❝ Let go, Steve. Cmon baby.❞ you coax because you're dying to feel him come undone, you want him to fill you up. He bites your lip and his thrusts get clumsy as he fucks through his own orgasm, hot seed painting your insides. He falls to the bed beside you, spent. You’re pulled on top of him and he wraps you in his arms, pulling you down against him completely.

❝ You’re amazing, princess.❞ he mutters softly just as you're both starting to doze off..

#steve harrington #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #( ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ʟɪsᴛ ✓ )#lazyghoulskinktober2023 #🔞ɴғᴡ. ᴍɪɴᴏʀs ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ʀɪsᴋ.

39 notes · View notes

dgcatanisiri · 7 months

Text

I understand the argument that Riley being upset about Buffy "not paying him enough attention" while her mother is sick, but I've always said that it's an oversimplification - that what's going on is that Buffy is not trusting him with her weakness in this time, that he wants to be there to support her, and she is actively pushing him away and not letting herself be weak.

But y'know, I think another thing that really hammers home how Riley at least had a valid point in all of this, even if it was buried under the whole vampire feeding thing... How does he learn about Joyce going into the hospital, having the overnight stay, the CAT scan that revealed her tumor?

He goes to Buffy's house while the Summers women are at the hospital, not knowing what's going on with Joyce, walks in to find Spike SNIFFING ONE OF BUFFY'S SWEATERS, and then learns that SPIKE knows what's going on with Joyce before he did.

Sure, Spike knows because he'd gone to Buffy's house intending to kill her or die trying and had a change of heart when he saw her so emotionally vulnerable, but it doesn't change the fact that he found this out, but no one made an effort to pass the information on to Riley.

Like... That stings ME and I'm not even one of the people in the relationship. That this soulless vampire who is creepily obsessed with her, has tried to kill her multiple times, who he just found fondling her laundry... That HE got to know about this devastating news before Riley, Buffy's boyfriend, did.

This is coming after the episode where he got Walsh's super-soldier stuff flushed out and told her, specifically, he is scared of her running away from him. And the episode that followed THAT, his only scene in the episode was Buffy telling him she needed to do something alone, without him (the spell that had her find out Dawn was inserted into her life). And it just keeps going, where we don't really see efforts being made to involve Riley in Buffy's life, all the way to the point where Buffy's mother and sister end up taking up the majority of her non-Slayer time.

That's what I mean when I say that Riley wasn't wrong to want to be wanted - Buffy's actions were alienating him, and, while she certainly had reason to be concerned about things not-him at the time, it also showed that he had issues in the relationship that were not being addressed. Issues that did get acknowledged at one point, but then got shoved off to the side as Buffy had her own issues (understandably) take precedence.

I'm not saying Riley's blameless, but I am saying that Buffy DID have responsibility in that relationship's collapse as well, that she isn't blameless - that they BOTH contributed to the relationship's collapse. The bigger issue is that Riley was not given enough of development outside of being "Buffy's boyfriend" to make his side at least be shown in a more sympathetic light, or give him things to do with the other characters beyond Buffy, so that he wouldn't be stuck in that rut of "but without Buffy, what do I do?"

Ultimately, he's a victim of the writers forgetting to really give him a purpose in the narrative outside of his ties to the Initiative, and, since that arc wrapped up the prior season, there was nothing really for him to do but be "Buffy's boyfriend" afterwards, and that was a role that even I, someone on team "Riley's not that bad, actually," will grant that he was NEVER going to be endgame on.

And that's also part of the issue, that the writing seemed to have wanted this to be an endgame romance, something on the epic level of Buffy and Angel's love, but... It really was a relationship that was never going to last. It WASN'T a one in a million love, it was a young romance that burned bright, fast, and out. Buffy was going in to it as a rebound, hell, the rebound FROM her rebound. Riley was going in and taking the relationship as an identity. And, of course, we have the out-of-universe fact that Whedon himself didn't want another vampire romance, so he was trying to push this relationship SO. DAMN. HARD, which... I mean, since when does that even work in the first place? All those factors doomed the relationship before the word go.

Yeah, I do think Riley was screwed over by things no matter how things had turned out. So, y'know, that's one of those things that tends to endear me to a character in the first place.

#dg rambles #riley finn #buffy the vampire slayer #buffy meta

19 notes · View notes

igotanidea · 2 years

Text

The Raven's daughter: Morpheus x Matthew's daughter part 6

previously: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5

Part 6

This is one of those days.

The day when y/n feels overwhelmed with simplest task, getting out of bed seems like a challenge and going to work require the same amount of energy and motivation as climbing the peak of the highest mountain. From the very morning it seemed like the Murphy law will be the sponsor of the upcoming 24 hours. Everything that could fall from y/n hands, fell and broke, she was tripping over her own feet, the bus was late and to make it all worse, when she was crossing the street to get to the campus some asshole run right through the puddle drenching her pants in water. y/n was exhausted but inside it all the rage was slowly finding its way towards the surface. It was only a matter of seconds before explosion.

-Damn it! – she yelled entering the faculty room. She didn’t sleep quite well that night. Obviously she could just ask the Lord of the Dreams to help her, but considering that he would probably brag about it for the rest of the existence she stopped herself. To make those sleepless hours worth something she tried to work on her novel but her brain refused to work. In desperation (and maybe in some masochist reflex) she found herself browsing the pages for writers. This only made her more frustrated. There were so many talented people out there. The ones that truly deserved some fame and recognition. Who was she to even try and compare herself with them? Maybe her time has already passed, she achieved nothing and she has no right to teach? Maybe this feeling of incompetence will stay with her forever in a form of lump in throat, guilt and hopelessness? Y/n groaned and shut her laptop. Maybe she could try and do some paperwork instead. She had a stack of essays on her desk, assigned to the student about a week ago. It was highest time to check them and write some feedback. She reached for the first one, but was not able to focus. y/n felt like banging her head against the wall. Nothing worked for her nerves. Yes, nerves, even if she didn’t want to admit it. Finally, she just laid in bed, eyes closed, waiting for the morning too come. Unfortunately, so far it was no better.

- Hey, y/n! – a fellow teacher greets her cheerfully but immediately backed up seeing her mood – Woah, what’s with the attitude?

- Oh, don’t even get me started! – she pointed at her wet pants – Can I just go home and fall sick? I don’t think I am myself today.

- Cheer up, I got spare pair in my cabinet. Seems like you need them more than I do now.

- You want me to wear your pants? Not that I’m complaining, but….

- No buts! You don’t really have much time till your class so get yourself together and take what I give you. Or rather what I’m going to give you. – with that words the friend takes from the room in order to gather the clothing.

The point was, that Kat, the chemistry teacher, was nothing like a stereotypical scientist in trench coat. To give her justice, she was the most colorful person at the university, both faculty and students considered. She loved wearing pink, red, yellow and neons, that made her distinctive. One thing for sure, no car would ever hit or wet her since she was practically a street light, visible from a distance. Kat was also a great fan of embellishments of all kind – sequins, nail heads, you name it. Having that in mind, even if she chemist was the closest thing y/n had to a friend, she was quite scared of what may be handed to her as a emergency pants. In her imagination she already saw some sort of circus knickerbockers or something equally crazy.

-Here! – Kat was back surprisingly quickly – this is the best I could find on such short notice.

-This is… - y/n hesitantly looked at what was handed to her - … not so bad, actually. – the simple pair of slightly wiped black jeans, quite adequate for a teacher. – That’s new. I never knew you could own something so simple, Kat.

-Please. I have bad days too, I’m only human. Now, be quick and meet me at lunch, I got a proposition for you. The one that you simply cannot refuse – Kat blows a kiss towards y/n and run for her own lecture.

-Why does everyone insist on speaking riddles to me! – y/n annoyance came back and she was forced to take a few deep breaths to calm herself down. – Head in the game, girl, head in the game – she spoke to herself heading towards the classroom hoping for full auditorium.

However, it seemed like someone up or down really made it his purpose to make this day a disaster. y/n heart dropped when she spotted only a few yawning students, as sleepy as she was. Feeling her spirit barely float above the ground she addressed the present.

-What happened? Where is everyone?

-Absent, professor.

-Well, I can see that – y/n spats – sorry, I suppose I’m not the only one who’s already struggling through the day. – she shook her head – you know what, there’s no point in having this lecture when there are only so little of you. You can go home or … do whatever else.

-But won’t you get in trouble professor? – one of the girls asked

-Why would I? No one showed in the classroom and everyone’s an adult. This class is not obligatory after all. No one will be chasing you or me. – with such assurance the students had no further inhibitions to skip the lecture, leaving y/n alone with her thoughts.

Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to call the class off – y/n thought to herself feeling the overwhelm coming again. She still has an hour till lunch break when she was supposed to meet with Kat and had absolutely no idea what to do with that time. Knowing well enough her brain was functioning on some other frequency, the only way to deal with it was to get involved into something stupid just to kill the time. y/n was never the person to get addicted to her phone or any other electronic device, more of a book lover, but desperate times call for desperate measures. She reached for her smartphone and headphones to escape reality, but apparently someone else needed her more.

-Professor y/l/n, do you have a minute?

-Sure – y/n sighed – what is it?

-I heard you called off the classes, so I thought maybe I could use that extra time for some consultation?

-About what? A book? A novel?

-Some history stuff, actually.

-History? – y/n looked at the student with confusion – And I’m the one you decided to ask for help. No offense, but we have other teachers competent in that area.

-Well…. To be honest, I asked professor Gadling first, but he bustled me off to you.

-Really? That’s quite unusual. Is the subject so specific he had nothing to say about it? He seems like a hotshot to me.

-He is, but apparently had too much to do – the students look down – so, will you help me professor – using the most obvious trick with big, glistening eyes he added – you’re the only hope left for me.

-There’s no need to be melodramatic, is there? – y/n motioned him to a chair – what’s troubling you?

-You, professor. – the students smiles mischievously

-I’m sorry? – y/n raises her eyebrows in confusion – you should not speak to me like that. I’m your teacher after all. A little respect would be nice.

-You are not my teacher. However, I can most definitely teach you something about your future which is now connected with my brother’s.

-What? I don’t understand a thing of what you’re saying. Wait – a wave of realization hit her – you brother? Do you mean…. Dream?

-I do.

-Who are you exactly – y/n move in front of her desk crossing her arms in anticipation.

-I have many names, but you may know me as Destiny.

Destiny. – the girl repeated in flat voice. – Awesome. Are you here as some sort of messenger?

Destiny’s face expression did not falter in the slightest. God, he’s so serious. Almost like his younger sibling.

-You should not mess with an Endless calling me that. I am no messenger, human.

-I’m sorry – y/n sighed again – I did not mean to offend you in any way. I just… My life has been kind of crazy lately.

-I know. I know everything. And I’m here to give you a warning that it will be crazier. You should brace yourself. There’s a journey ahead of you.

-A journey? What kind of journey?

-I can only tell you as much as I told my brother.

-Wait… he knew?

-Yes.

-I knew he was holding something back from me. What kind of journey are we talking about?

-The one that will fill some blank space from your past. Questions will be answered and you will be different than now.

-Is there any point in asking you any more questions?

-No.

-Well then, thank you for the heads up Destiny – she rolled her eyes but became sad the next second – I don’t know if I’m strong enough to meddle with my past.

-You are. You shall find soon enough how much power lies inside you.

-You just barely met me. How do you know that? – she looks up at her student.

-I know – he repeated and a shadow of smile lingered on his lips – you are much more than you think yourself to be. And for some reason, I believe in you, y/n y/l/n. I will watch over you to the very possible extend.

-Why? Why do you care about me?

-I have a feeling about you, y/n. We shall meet again – with those words he rise from his seat and moved towards the door – You are now under my protection.

-That really does make me feel special – y/n grinned – the Destiny’s protégée. It has a nice ring to it, can’t lie. Does it mean I have a connection with you as well as with Dream?

-Not the same kind, but yes, you can call it like that. You humans have a puzzling habit of defining things.

-Nah. That’s just something I do desperately trying to keep my life together.

-Goodbye, y/n. I’ll see you soon.

The girl just nods her head, serious expression on her face. She sensed that this is all she will get from Destiny so decided to just roll with what was coming her way. One problem at a time. Her visitor disappeared behind the door and when she looked after him the corridor was empty, as if nothing happened. y/n would probably think that she imagined it all if it wasn’t for a single sprig of myrtle laying on her desk. What is the meaning of this –she wondered taking the plant in her hand and examining in it carefully.

-Professor?

-Oh, god damn it, what now? – she spat and spun around annoyed.

-I’m sorry – the poor girl cringed.

-No, I’m sorry. That was way harsher than I intended. Can I help you with anything? -she strenously calmed herself down.

-Actually, I’m here to deliver a message. The dean wishes to see you, professor. He said it’s an urgent matter and he doesn’t wish to be kept waiting.

-Thank you, I shall see to him immediately.

***

-Professor y/l/n. All things considered, it is always a pleasure to see you. – dean Winchester motioned for y/n to sit down behind the great, oak desk and sat down on the opposite side.

-Thank you, dean. But… all things considered?

-I’m pretty sure you realize this is not a social call.

-I do, sir, but with all due respect – did something happen?

-y/n – dean slightly moved forward. Using my first name – y/n thought – that’s highly unusual – let’s be serious. You called your lecture off. Do you think that was within your power? You should have asked for a permission from me first

-I….. – the girl started, quite perplexed – who told you? – I’ve got a mole amongst the students – a single sentence crossed her mind

-Doesn’t matter. And let me finish. You’ve been acting strange for the last couple days. Is everything all right?

-That is not the word I would use, but I’m figuring things out.

-I;m really glad to hear it. Unfortunately, I can’t pretend that this didn’t happen. That was unprofessional and exceed of your prerogatives, professor. Hence I am forced to punish you, though I take no pleasure in that.

-Sir, if I may – she chimed in – barely a few students showed up on the lecture. My classes involve discussions and brainstorms therefore just a couple of participant is not sufficient for classes to be effective.

-I understand that. Given your perfect track record and highest ranks in evaluation I don’t intend to be harsh on you. You may treat it more like a warning, like a ….

Punishment for example? – she looked down intertwining her fingers to stop her hands from shaking.

The dean did not bother to answer that, just looking at his most prominent lecturer with mix of care and worry.

-y/n – he spoked softly causing the girl to look at him again – is there anything you wish to tell me?

Yes. Yes, of course. I;ve just recently found that my father is a Raven, I have some sort of connection with anthropomorphic personification of a Dream and I am under some sort of protection from analogic personification of Destiny, who happens to be his brother. Right, I want to tell you all about it. And then end up locked up in a psychiatric ward. I wonder if that’s something that was destined for me too.

-No. There is nothing of importance.

-I like you y/n/, but I cannot let my sympathy affect my objectivity. Professor Gadling will take your classes for the next three days. Consider this as forced leave of absence. Take care of your matters. I wish to see the same y/n/ I knew for the last two years back, do you understand?

-Yes sir.

-Good, now go. Have your lunch and think about what I told you.

y/n stood up and rushed out towards the faculty cafeteria where Kat was already waiting for her, pacing in anticipation.

@marvelsmylife

@wickedly-grim

@mind-of-a-girl

@thereeallink

@lisacarolined

@boofy1998

@endlessdreamqueen

@mikariell95

@shadowluna25

@sippysthoughts

@kaoriloveskeiff

119 notes · View notes

forerussake · 6 months

Text

Twenty questions for fic writers

I was tagged by the wonderful @elenothar! Thankssss❤️

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

456.761

3. What fandoms do you write for?

I've written for a bunch of fandoms over the years. Currently I'm most active in Guardian and adjacent fandoms, but I think I could and would still write for pretty much everything I've written for in the past. So the full list would be Guardian, the Silmarillion, QZGS, MDZS/CQL, YYM, the Rebel, DMBJ, and some RPF :D

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Counting the promises as yet unbroken (165)

A ballad of burning lungs and bated breath (125)

A hand within a hand (holding light) (120)

Kaleidoscope (114)

Crowded full of parting's feeling (99)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to always respond to comments, bc i myself really like it when an author responds to my comments, so I would be a hypocrite not to do it myself. But also I kind of enjoy that interaction. Especially if ppl have commented on specific lines or on the themes. Sometimes commenters have insights about my fics that even I didn't have myself while writing, and I like to let them know their thoughts were appreciated :)

6. What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Well, I am an angst writer, but I often try to make the endings of my fics at least a bit hopeful :/// I think the angstiest ending to a finished fic would have to go to either Crowded full of parting's feeling, which ends with LXC being (for the first time in his life) truly and utterly alone. Kind of a bummer. Or perhaps the easy part, which ends with ZYL crying himself to sleep on the kitchen floor.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

As I said, I try to make my endings hopeful, if not truly happy, but there are a few true happy endings to my fics! I think my RPF pieces tend to be the happiest bc I am slightly less likely to put these guys through the wringer the way I do with my truly fictional blorbos. I think the happiest however is homecoming, which ends with WJX finally coming out as trans and being her best and truest self.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not yet??? Hopefully it stays that way! I do write RPF though, so I'm very ready for one of the crazy antis to one day drop into my inbox calling me all sorts of nasty things for *looks at writing scribbled on hand* having the audacity to put characters in fictional situations that don't hurt the real ppl that inspired these characters in any way??? yeah :PPP

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Occasionally, when the muse strikes! But my ace brain finds it quite difficult. My mind tends to trail off and scatter all over the place when I get to the actual smut, and I have a hard time reeling it back in. As a result my smutty fics often get needlessly long xD and they also get a little kinky bc my brain tries to come up with ways to stay engaged in its own writing xD I like testing the limits of how poetic I can be about smut scenes.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Almost never. I rarely enjoy reading them unless they are very well done, so I don't generally think of writing them. The only consistent exception to this rule is all the weilan derivative fics! I love those very much, even if I don't always know the characters. So i've written one of those myself: no shame in having loved, a crossover between the Rebel and Detective L, which takes Luo Fei's perspective at snapshots in the Rebel canon, reflecting on everything that Lin Nansheng learns, loses, and cannot seem to stop giving away. It's a sad one, but with a slightly hopeful ending :)

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of? I don't think I'm big enough in any fandom for anyone to consider stealing my work.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope, but I have had one podficced :D

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I have not. On the one hand I think I'd love to try one day, but I'm also very particular about certain things and I fear I might get antsy. I love brainstorming about fic though! Some of my best ideas have come from talking to people.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Uhm Weilan I think? I'm not really in fandom for the shipping.

15. What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

ohh hard one. I have three, if I may:

And miles to go (before I sleep): it's a story that's still very dear to me, but it's been so long since I started it that I think I'd need to rewrite the whole thing, bc I've gotten better at writing in the meantime and the style of any new chapter wouldn't match the first ones.

First gradually, and then all at once: I wrote all of this in a single week, and then uni got in the way, and then my hyperfixation on YYM ended and since then the fic's been stuck in unfortunate limbo :(((( I really want to finish it but I need the muse to guide me

Tryptich: not yet posted, but fully planned. It's one of the toughest, angstiest, most cathartic fic plots I have ever come up with, and I really want to write it because it is such a meaningful story about mental health and loss and recovery, but it's also YYM fandom, and as established above I need to regain that hyperfixation for this to move anywhere :(((( or just have a lot of free time on my hands where I can write both the guardian fic stuck in my brain and this.

16. What are your writing strengths?

uuhm, I think atmosphere/scene setting, structure, and character study/reflection.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

dialogue tags (bane of my existence). I also think my work can sometimes drag on, I use too many words sometimes. Also I feel like I can be kind of a one trick pony xD I repeat a lot of similar lines and dramatic build-up between stories.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Can be great when other ppl do it. If it's a language I can read a little bit that's nice , otherwise including a translation at the bottom helps. I'd definitely never write dialogue in a language I'm not fluent in. That being said, I do pay a lot of attention to what language my characters are 'actually' speaking, even if I present their dialogue to my readers in English. For example if would write a phrase like "he pauses to breathe between all three syllables" (which sucks as a line, but bear with me), in an English-language fic where the characters would canonically be speaking Mandarin Chinese, then I would make sure the line that character said would actually contain 3 syllables in both English and Chinese. I do a lot of that kind of reasoning in my head. "If this line, reflecting on dialogue spoken in Y language, was transposed directly into language X that the characters are really supposed to be speaking, would the line still work like this?" if the answer there is no, then I will either change the line, or change the English dialogue until I have something that reflects what I imagine the characters would say in their native language in the way I need!

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Tolkien!

20. Favorite fic you've written?

HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO CHOOSE??? it's probably either a hand within a hand (holding light) or kaleidoscope.

Thanks again, this was fun!!!

tagging: @pangzi @programmedradly @lunarriviera @lucientelrunya @mjsakurea @lynne-monstr @dual-domination @aredhel-of-doylkien @thedaughterofshadows if you want to :)

#tagged #my writing

10 notes · View notes

siena-sevenwits · 4 months

Text

Blogging The Last Unicorn, Chapters 2-3 (reread)

I skipped the opening chapter and will return to it once I’m properly into the story – that first chapter always gets in the way of my rereading.

Oh, I love, love Peter S. Beagle’s lyrical prose and overly thoughtful dialogue. It’s a matter of taste, for sure, but every page is just a little gemmed casket of gleaming lines, and I love it. And the sheer sense of atmosphere!

I remember when I first read this book wondering whether the young Peter Beagle was terrified of old age, weakness, and what some perceive as ugliness. I gathered this particularly from the scene where the Unicorn hears Elli sing the song of old age, and she’s filled with more horror than almost anything in the story (and this is echoed by what happens to her later in the book.) And there are other ways this is touched on throughout the tale. But on reread I see much more appreciation for the gift of growing old too. In fact, it’s considered a curse that one character is physically stuck in his twenties, and a grace when that curse is lifted. And though Molly is angry and broken hearted that the Unicorn didn’t come to her in the innocence of her youth but instead found her in her middle age, full of cares, Molly ultimately finds the greatest joys and meaning in her life at this later age. She is even called beautiful, I think. But I’m getting ahead of the story.

It seems to me that it is right that the unicorn should find old age and death horrifying, for she was created to be immortal, and is fulfilling her nature. Whereas the humans, who were created mortal, fear aging but ultimately embrace it, and thus learn to fulfill their natures.

It’s Chapter Two, and Schmendrick is with us! One of the two best characters in the book! I am amazed how many sides of his character are actually seen within the first few chapters, though they might be more evident on reread.

I love books that strike me as faintly (or strongly) allegorical by turns, but which are so multi-faceted that nothing in the story can really function as a simple, easily translatable symbol. The parallels are always shifting. We can see profound thoughts in the work if we interpret Schmendrick now as a type of the frustrated creative writer, and now as the soul encountering the divine for the first time, and now as a double sided coin of youth and old age. But he’s not a cardboard character, and any allegorical reading ceases to work if you try to apply it to the whole story. In that respect this book is a little like Tolkien’s work – extremely applicable by various lights, but impossible to draw up a table of who symbolizes what. I suppose that is the kind of story our own lives are.

Speaking of Schmendrick the creative artist, this analogy means a lot to me and makes the part where he tries to open the cage dear to me. I love that he had the keys the whole time but wanted it to be the beautiful spell that got her free.

“You deserve the services of a great wizard, but I’m afraid you’ll have to be glad of the aid of a second-rate pickpocket,” is a dear line to me.

Mommy Fortuna knows Schmendrick and the Unicorn have been conspiring, and probably that they mean to escape, but she seems no more worried about it than she does about the harpy getting free. Is it for the same reason? That she held them captive once and they will always remember it, and that’s her immortality? Or some other reason? Also, the lock speaks in Mommy Fortuna’s voice when Schemndrick steals the key and tries to open the cage.

I love that the string of threats, “YOU BARBED WIRE! YOU PILE OF STONES! […] I’LL CHANGE YOUR HEART INTO GREEN GRASS, AND ALL YOU LOVE INTO A SHEEP! I’LL TURN YOU INTO A BAD POET WITH DREAMS! I’LL SET ALL YOUR TOENAILS GROWING INWARD, YOU MESS WITH ME!” (capitals mine) is answered with, “What are you talking about? You can’t turn cream into butter. I never did like you. You give yourself airs, and you’re not very strong.”

“A bloodshot moon burst out of the clouds, and the unicorn saw her – swollen gold, her streaming hair kindling, the slow, cold wings shaking the cage.” I love it. Some people don’t, but I just love it. It’s indigo prose, not purple, so far as I am concerned. In another story, it might not work. But it does here.

On the whole this book is just masterful, but there are moments when Beagle feels just a little self indulgent in a way that calls attention to itself. The Unicorn telling Arachne, “It’s very attractive, but it’s not art,” on her way to free the Harpy from her cage feels this way to me. So does, “Have a taco,” (which we haven’t reached yet, but it’s one of the few things in this book I sort of hate, so it’s present in my mind.)

#I likely won't do this regularly for every passage #but it gave me joy tonight.#peter s. beagle #recovering reader #coreander's old books

7 notes · View notes

cillspropertea · 2 years

Text

No Fucking Way (New Cillian Murphy Fic)

Chapter 1: Waking up

Warnings: Mentions of an accident.

Y/N finds herself in a unique situation where her heart wants to believe everything but her mind wants her to repress herself to prevent heartbreak. The love of her life is miraculously close enough to touch but everything stops with the question, “Is any of this real?”

Authors note: I apologize beforehand to how medically incompatible this story will be, as I am not a professional doctor, just a fanfic writer with an idea she cannot contain in her head anymore. So, please, bear with me.😇😉

Looking forward to your feedback.✨✨

Word count: 2112

It was dark and my eyelids felt heavy. I felt so comfortable and cozy in my bed cocooned under my blanket, reading my favorite smutty Cillian Murphy fan-fiction on Tumblr. I’d had a long and tiring day at work. But no matter what, I always made time to read about Cillian and stay updated about all the latest news and info on him. I’d joined multiple accounts and pages on Facebook, Instagram and twitter to do so. God! He was so sexy, ‘I would give anything to be his woman! Anything!’ I thought. But he was happily married to the love of his life, who was a bombshell. Multiple media sources had actually called her a mixture of Catherine Zeta jones and Sofia Vergara ‘Pfft! They needed glasses. She isn’t THAT beautiful!’ but she was. I didn’t hate her, no sir-oo! But one shouldn’t be blamed to envy the world’s luckiest woman right? She had everything, a successful career, and a baby on the way and Cillian as her husband! God really has his favorites, doesn’t he!? There was no chance for me, ‘Not in this life at least!’ I’d chuckled silently. I looked at his ‘Thomas Shelby’ picture with my favorite quote on the wall for the last time before giving in to the inescapable slumber.

------

They did several tests on me, the reports of which weren’t due till the next day. The Doctor even tickled my feet with his pen “To check the movement…” I was sure he'd left inky lines on my soles. “Now, Y/N, My name is Doctor Benjamin.” The older Doc began once again. “I am handling your case. I would like to inform you that you’d had an accident. Things were critical for some time, but all seems to be okay now. How are you feeling dear?” He raised his eyebrows. “Okay I guess. I have a massive headache and my body feels, heavy. Other than that I feel fine.” I replied, subconsciously moving my hands and feet, opening and closing my fists. “That’s completely normal. You would be feeling like your old self in no time. You did give us a scare there young lady! You certainly took your time.” He waved a finger at me as if talking to a child. “But I don’t understand…” my fingers touched my pounding temple. “Understand what?” Doctor Benjamin picked up my file and started writing something on it. “I don’t remember having an accident. I just remember going to bed after a long day of work…” This caught his attention, he handed over the file to the nurse standing beside him. An expression of worry crossed his face for a moment but he recovered quickly. “Ahaan. So the last thing you remember…” I completed, “… is me sleeping in my bed.” He took out the small light from his pocket and once again checked my eyes. Opening them with his thumb. “It’s okay dear. You have been in a coma for two years. Things can get a little jumbled up and believe me when I say this, they’ll sort out on their own too…” he asked the nurse softly to call Doctor Sophia immediately. “Two years? No way no fucking way!” I started to panic, pushing away the sheet to get up. I winced when the IV got pulled because of my sudden movements. But when I tried to put my weight on my legs, they wobbled and I found myself on the floor. The Doctor very politely helped me back up on the bed, “Easy Y/N, easy. It will take time for your body to adjust to movement. After all you have been on this bed for the past two years!” I tried to calm my breathing and the nurse helped me, signaling me to take deeper breaths and lie back down on the bed. I was glad that she’d covered me with the blanket again as I was just in a hospital gown, tied scantily from the back, with nothing at all underneath. “Better?” the nurse asked smiling sympathetically. I nodded, “What year is it?” I suddenly asked the Doctor who looked like he was solving big number multiplications in his head while staring at me. “It’s 2024. Today its November 3rd, 2024.” My eyes widened as my fingers once again tried to massage my temple, “Fuck!” I mumbled. “Your family has been informed. They’ll probably be on their way right now. All will be fine now. Just take one day at a time dear, one day at a time.” The doctor tapped my shoulder reassuringly before leaving with the nurse. But I could see the Doctor was a bit worried too. God! Why couldn’t I remember anything about the accident? I closed my eyes sighing heavily.

Waking up I could hear people around with a continuous beeping sound. My eyelids felt too heavy as I fluttered them open, trying to see what was going on. “She’s awake! Doctor, we need to call the doctor!” I heard a female voice panic. I was covered in tubes and drips and when I tried to move my limbs, they felt heavy and sore as if I’d been traveling for days, on foot. I opened my mouth to say something but my throat constricted with thirst. It felt like I hadn’t had a single sip of water for days. “Water! Please…” I croaked, to nobody in particular. Then suddenly I felt someone force open my eyes, one at a time, and point a light directly in to them. “Her vitals seem fine.” The doctor said to the nurse next to him. I asked for water again and this time the nurse helped me sip some, my consciousness gradually coming back as my eyes started to focus a bit. “What’s happening? Where am I?” I questioned, panicking. The beeping sound on the machine increased its pace, “Now now… let’s not get too worried there. I assure you Y/N you’ll get answers to all of your questions. But first just let us examine you okay?” The doctor was older than my father. His grey side burns reminded me of him. His tone and words instantly calmed me down as I leaned back and cooperated with the medical staff.

I was in a hospital room, which did not look like a hospital room at all. It looked more like a luxurious hotel room. The blinds were letting in sunlight and giving the room a very dreamy look. The whole room was set up in shades of grey, brown and beige.

-----

How was I here? The room looked too luxurious. There was no way Mother could have afforded it. Maybe a lot changed in the two years I was unconscious for. I hadn’t realized when I’d fallen asleep but the sound of the door opening and closing had woken me up. It was my mother and sister. I sat up, “Oh my God Y/N!” my mother rushed towards me, hugging me so hard that my ribs hurt. She was crying, “Mom I’m fine. I’m okay. Calm down before my BP gets disturbed!” I joked, rubbing her back reassuringly. She moved back, holding my face in her hands, watching me intently, “you’re okay right? You are fine?” She was still worried. “I am fine mom. Seriously, I’m okay!” I repeated. My sister, Marie had just been standing near the door, crying silently. “C’mere!” I called her opening my arms for her and she walked right into them. Holding my hand she kissed it and then smacked my shoulder, “Ow!” I exclaimed. “This is for being a fucking drama queen! Waving in between life and death like that…” she sniffled, “I mean either fucking die or come back! Worrying us like that…” I smiled, knowing her so danm well, she was trying to hide her worry. I had always been closer to my sister than my mother. After my father’s death Mom had changed, a lot. She would say and do stuff she never meant, but it had started hurting and damaging me emotionally. My sister had noticed and taken over the role of my mother as well. But she wasn’t good with showing emotions. “I had to come back. Who would be the third wheel on your dates with Ashton huh?” I nudged her shoulder. She suddenly looked at mother, trying not to look at my eyes. “What?” I looked between them. “We got married last year.” She muttered looking down. My mouth opened and closed. What was I supposed to say to that? We both had been so close, had dreamed of each other’s big days almost all of our lives. She was older so we’d both known she would get married first. “Wow”, it had hurt. “I am so sor… I… I just… we didn’t know if…” I completed her words, “… If I’d make it. Right?” I looked down, mostly because I didn’t want her to see the tears in my eyes. “I am sorry Y/N. I wish I would have waited. Ashton’s mother had gotten sick and she had started all this drama…” I put a hand on her shoulder, “It’s okay. It’s fine. You have the video right?” she nodded enthusiastically, “Great! We’ll watch it first thing after I get out of here.” And with that I hugged her rocking her side to side. “Besides, I’m still single so we still have time to attend mine together right!?” I’d laughed. Marie got back, watching my face with confusion and then looking at Mom with the same look too. “What?” they both exchanged a look I couldn’t place and then laughed. ‘They are being so weird’ I thought. Abruptly they both stood up, “I think we should go and talk to the Doctor. Ask when you can leave yeah?” They nodded at me and then nodded at each other before hurriedly leaving the room.

“Hi” he breathed, taking a step inside. “Hi” I answered grinning like an idiot and adjusting my sheet over my chest, ‘Get a grip Y/N!’ I was about to ask who exactly was he looking for but before I could form the words he’d gingerly crossed the floor and clasped me in his arms hugging me, resting his chin on my shoulder. My hands stood awkwardly in the air not knowing what to do before he said, “I’ve missed you Mrs. Murphy, I’ve missed you so fucking much!”

Just after moments, the nurse had come with my lunch. It was chicken and vegetable soup with bread and apple juice. She advised to take it slow with the food as my body would take time to get used to solid food again, since it had been living on an IV for so long. I’d nodded and as soon as she’d left the room I’d attacked the food. It felt like it was sent from heaven, I was starving. A spoonful had dropped on my gown as well but I didn’t care. I was hungry and there was food to be devoured. My mouth was full of bread dipped in soup when the door had opened. Gulping it down and wiping my mouth in a very unladylike manner, I watched as he entered. My mouth was on my lap, literally. No way, no fucking way. It was him. It was Cillian Fucking Murphy.

He was just standing there, with one hand still on the door handle. The lighting of the room perfectly shading his perfect cheeckbones and face. He was wearing a maroon-ish jumper with his hair ruffled and casual. Just the way he liked, I remembered from one of the articles I’d read online. Suddenly I became more than aware of my disarrayed hair and lack of cloths and regretted not eating with caution. I cursed inwardly, ‘This is the day God grants me my wish to meet this guy in flesh and here I am almost naked and filthy with soup on my gown’ I wanted the floor to swallow me up. Running my hands through my hair I thought about what I should do. This was the guy I had been dreaming about to meet one day, catch a glimpse of somewhere, or just get a signed autograph even. Every magazine his face had ever graced the cover of, was in my room, in plastic protective covers. And he was here! HE WAS HERE! Standing in front of me!!! Would asking for an autograph in a hospital be too rude? God, no! It would be inappropriate. I wonder who he’s come to see here. Maybe one of his parents or his wife? I made a mental note to ask for my phone as soon as my sister returned and check the social media. It had to be on there!

#cillian murphy #cillian x reader #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian x y/n #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy fic

70 notes · View notes

what-do-1000-swords-look-like · 1 year

Text

TW: 1x06 "Art Of Dying"

Disclaimer: It goes without saying, if you don’t like, don’t read. And as I always say, criticism of a show does not equate to criticism of actors (or executive producers) as people so if you choose to continue, please leave all stanage (in particular, AA baggage) at the door.

Written by: Jess Kardos

Directed by: Geary McLeod

Rating: 5.5/10

Pros: the message & theme of the episode; John's involvement in the arc & the writers not shying away from this part of his journey/character, instead they seem to be exploring it fully; John and Mary had more chemistry than last episode; Drake and Nida were excellent in the barn scene; Latika saved the day; we saw a legit hunter's funeral with other hunters; we also got to see Mary's hunting connections outside of John/Carlos/Latika; we see more of Mary's desire to get out of hunting and they bring it home about how hunting is actually deadly and not a fun pasttime for young adults as opposed to staying home to watch the newest Mash episode or going roller skating.

Cons: Dean voiceovers still don't sound like Dean; still stereotyping Carlos when it comes to Spanish; still copying things SPN, right down to dialogue and SPN character quirks (every time I think you guys are going to go your own way and forge an identity, you do this and it needs to stop, all it does is smack of desperation and lack of creativity/originality, it is not helping you); Carlos getting knocked out while Mary didn't though she got hit the same way and then hit worse (while we have POC saving the day, this is still problematic)

Alright, I’m sorry, what kind of blood/splatter effect IS THAT???

Dean voiceover: “Hunting has a way of changing a person. After a while, right, wrong, good, evil, they all start to look the same. And then it makes you start to wonder, who’s really the monster here? Them or me?” - a little more like Dean but still not quite there - what happened after 1x04? Jensen, my man, what's happening?

Omg “Amigo” is back *rubs temples*

“I am not obsessed. I’m thorough.” *best Marcia Brady voice* Sure, John, sure

And now we have “amor” - I’m sorry but how do you guys not see how stereotypical this is? Not to mention it’s checking the boxes of “representation”?

John, chill out - again, you’ve been hunting for six episodes and maybe you believe you’re the chosen one but didn’t we learn the lesson a few episodes ago that we need to depend on others, to let them in, we can't always do it alone or something? Chill. Out.

I love that Latika and Carlos are trying to give John options on chilling out aka helping his anger that seems to be mounting with every episode

They even copied the SPN Dean robe thing, Lord help us

And werewolves make an appearance

And the old journal thing again

It’s moments like this that make me really hopeful for Mary getting out of hunting (despite knowing what’s coming down the line)

“But that’s the life of a hunter, right? Kill or be killed.” Exactly, I’m glad Tracy said this and nullified the making light of the life of a hunter they tried to make it in the van

It amazes me that John doesn’t seem to be thrilled for Mary getting out of hunting - I get that he told her she should leave Lawrence if she does in the last episode and he doesn’t really want her to leave, but if you truly love someone, don’t you want what’s best for them? I know he's still young but wasn't he engaged before or something?

Good song choice and I do love that they are showing this part of the world: the hunter’s funeral

I’m glad that Tracy isn’t alone for it (looking at you SPN series finale)

Exactly, John, is that the end you want for her? I don’t think so

I love that Carlos wants to take a gander at the Harlequin romance novels - I wonder what his reaction would be when he came across his first "purple-headed warrior" line

John Winchester everybody - this guy has a resume of 5 episodes in hunting and already trying to rush in head first to duel the Big Bad without a plan… I’m calling it now, this is going to be turned into some big romantic gesture he’s trying to make by the show, he wants to defeat the Akrida as soon as possible so Mary can be free of hunting so she doesn’t die

And surprise, surprise, we get the whole Carlos and Latika conversation happening about Latika “torn between two worlds” *smh* so on the nose - but since it is important to Latika’s role in the story so far, tbf, it does make sense (but still...)

Awww Carlos you’re so cute - don’t worry, you can recover from that one, I guarantee it

So, Alfred Hitchcock mentions? Nice - Rear Window is a fantastic film (if you haven’t seen it, you should - one of the first films we ever watched in film class, it’s a masterpiece for framing and the camera in general!!!)

Wait, Samuel and Deanna separated? And Deanna is no longer in the picture? Then how in SPN do they… How when Dean goes back in time do they… ? ? ? You know what, I’mma let that one go and just go have a sandwich

“They separated again?” Me: *looks up with mouthful of BLT* “Oh, so that’s how they’re justifying it”

“They’ll work it out eventually” I guess that’s how they’ll be back together by the time Dean rolls through I'm guessing a whole year later (curious to see if they'll work that into this show if they get a 2nd season btw)

I’m glad Tracy had that talk with Mary (and Mary, you better not be sticking around in hunting for John’s sake, once you find Samuel, you get out, girl - you can date John and be out of hunting if it comes down to it - you don't know it yet but you married him and did this very thing) - she needs to do what’s right for herself

Poor Carlos lol - hang in there, Carlos! I'm rooting for you, pal!!!

Soucouyant is the monster here? A rare vampire-witch from the Caribbean? How is it both of those things at once? (I’ll give this show one thing, the monster lore books/drawings look pretty cool)

Okay yes, there’s a connection, but let’s not forget that these monsters are being drawn here by the Akrida so why would it go straight for Tracy and Darla? Is it really that mad about stuck in the cave for ten years?

I’m sorry, is this supposed to be a scary monster? To me it just looks like someone who forgot to put on some moisturizer and brush out their hair for 40 years and has never heard of a wardrobe change, that's it

So this is a vampire-witch that is strong enough to not only kill Darla but to knock down Tracy’s front door like it was made by piled-up toothpicks and then burn the sigil off the wall, but it’s defeated by a fire extinguisher and a fireplace poker? (which obviously they’re trying to show the difference between John and Mary, they’re not on the same page due to the props; Mary - fireplace poker, still fighting/hunting; John - fire extinguisher, trying to end the fight and get Mary out of hunting; vampire-witch - shooting fire aka symbolizing the hunt/fight)

Of course John goes right after it, of course

What the…a VAMPIRE-WITCH RUNS AWAY? A VAMPIRE…WITCH??? Did I see that right???? 😵

Another gratuitous shirtless scene (and yes, it’s another scene because John doesn’t put his shirt back on after the stitching up is done)

O M G another soldier boy - this is pure cringe now - staaaahhp

I figured Antoine was interested in Carlos, he kept trying to make convo, now he’s asking about him…um hmm 😏 - Carlos, you are so in, man

CALLED IT!!!

Wow, this was actually one of the best scenes John and Mary have had yet (and not only did Meg and Drake nail this scene but the chemistry actually became palpable - let’s hope this continues)

Oh Mary, really? Like Carlos hasn’t been forced to be around you and John this whole time? Are you the only two characters in the show allowed to mention the word date? He’s allowed to have a crush, relax - perhaps she and John need a hit of something to chill the hell out and stop being so annoying (this is the 70's after all)

“Because it’s already dead” - I’m sorry, this is a VAMPIRE-witch, is it not? omg, where is Dean when I need him? I feel like I'd come up with vampitches and he'd give me a funny look, say we're trying to name a new monster not a new STD, which I'd then point out well STD's can be monstrous to which he'd chuckle and make one of his faces and then Sam would give us both an eye roll and his RBF, and then Dean would clear his throat, get serious, and come up with something better

Now it’s a ghost of a vampire-witch that can have their limbs cut off and they run away not disappear…MAKE IT MAKE SENSE, PEOPLE

I’ll tell you, Mary, it’s either Mack the hunter who allegedly died in the cave in or the hunter Rob who wanted to go back to the site 10 years later, my money is on Mack

Nailed it! Money in the bank! The cave in wasn’t an accident - color me shocked

Thank you, Latika! YES!

No wonder Mack is a vengeful spirit, I’d be too - this guy was abused as a child, was lost when grown up and was looking for a way to never feel powerless again, needed for them to be there for him not fear him or abandon him, and you guys did THAT to him? Screw that

Naturally, John goes after this thing himself, too bad he doesn’t have kids yet that he can use as bait or sacrifice… I said what I said

So now John is possessed - good going, John

Wait, Carlos got knocked out by that? What…

So he uses the same move on Mary as he did Carlos but that doesn’t knock her out? TW is lucky it doesn't have a hotline that goes straight to the writers' room because I'd be ringing that bitch right about now

He punches her in the head and it still doesn’t knock her out? Like I’m glad it didn’t but why did Carlos have to be knocked out? COME ON

Wait a second…wasn’t Latika just near Tracy? Now she’s back by Carlos again? How did editing miss that one?

And now she’s back by Tracy while Carlos does a flopping fish trying to get up? Holy shit, dude - C O N T I N U I T Y

I do like the theme they have shown here of a choice needing to be made for violence vs peace, especially in the case of abuse and more specifically generational abuse/trauma

Latika saved the day - IT’S ABOUT FREAKING TIME - *hangs up phone* guess that call to the writers wasn't needed after all

Btw Drake and Nida were EXCELLENT in that scene

Exactly, Mary, what Tracy said

LOVE this scene between Carlos and Latika - and so glad Carlos got his date with Antoine (you go, my adorable sassy hunter son! Yes!)

“Morning, Sunshine” - any other SPN lines we can throw in there, guys? Is there absolutely anything original you can come up with or is that a big fat no? *picks up the phone to call the writers again, leaves a voicemail asking Robbie to call me back*

This actually was a decent scene between John and Mary (and more chemistry, both Meg and Drake did well here) but I do wonder if the hand grab was a bit much? Nothing wrong with it but just with the build-up, not sure if we were there yet, but I guess technically Mary did the same thing after she came out of her mind walk last episode so I guess it’s a fitting sort of parallel…

John taking up meditation is a good thing I think

And so we have a fitting beginning and ending scene contrast/parallel with Dean voiceover included; I think it’s interesting that these voiceovers happen after the mantra: “I am centered. I am at peace. I create my own path and I walk in it fearlessly.” Particularly after the last line. Which is fitting when it comes to Dean himself along with the whole theme of this episode (as well as the mention of abuse and cycles) if you think about it. I’ll give Robbie and the writers that one, this they got right. Especially since they chose for John of all people to be the one to be possessed by Mack, to choose to take Latika’s offer instead of Carlos’ when he and Carlos are both war vets, John’s anger being an issue at the forefront, and the theme of making a choice. So kudos to them on that. *leaves another voicemail telling Robbie it's okay, he doesn't have to call me back, we're good...for now*

2nd Dean voiceover: “Hunting’s not for everyone. You have to be strong, stay sharp, make tough decisions, and it’s not easy but then again the righteous things never are.” - still not quite Dean *picks up phone and leaves a voicemail for Jensen this time, asking him to call me back*

And this is just a personal thing: I love Nida’s smile and Nida herself - LOVE LOVE LOVE her

The radio station has been located which leads us into the fall finale, dun dun dun

Episode theme: Monsters aren’t always the bad guys

Monster: not scary unless you look directly at it

Chemistry: Carlos and Latika; Mary and Tracy; John and Mary; John and Latika

Ending Thoughts: this episode while it had its issues was better than the last; hopefully, it continues on this upward trend or at the very least, stabilizes. I liked the message of the episode and how they made sure to involve John as much as possible, right down to his possession. I feel that was very important and almost integral to the foundation of John's character not just in this series but also in SPN. I increased the rating because they did finally have POC in the spotlight/hero role, they did focus on a very important theme this episode (which also links back to SPN in an appropriate way) that does intertwine with John's story appropriately, we got a bit of expansion into the hunters universe or at the least the vibe of it, and this episode did help move the narrative along in a more organic way than previous episodes.

#aa's dni #spnwin critical #spnwin #spnwin 1x06 #spnwin lb notes #spnwin lb notes 1x06 #spnwinposts

0 notes

christowhore · 3 years

Text

Redeeming Myself

pairing: chris evans x professor!fem!reader

summary: after breaking your heart and losing your trust, chris makes it his mission to prove to you how much you mean to him.

word count: 6.3k

warnings: age gap (reader is 29, chris is 40), angst, reminiscing on past actions, fluff, talks with therapist, chris makes up for bad behavior, slight alcohol consumption, smut, happy endings, rpf !!! 18+ MINORS DNI !!!

notes: the final installment of Pining for Professor. it was only supposed to be a one shot, but i got inspired and expanded it. it took a while cause writers block, but it’s here. for anyone who has read the series, thank you and hope you enjoy ! 💓🥰

i do not allow the reposting, rewriting or translating of my fics. these are works of my own and i do not give permission for any of the acts stated above.

join my taglist !

SERIES MASTERLIST • MAIN MASTERLIST

For a month and a half following that afternoon, Chris began to go above and beyond to mend his mistakes in an effort to regain your trust.

He knew that he shouldn’t have been forgiven for the hurtful words he hurled at you, the voice he raised, and his cold demeanor through it all. But you forgave him nonetheless, which he was eternally grateful for.

Chris suspected that his venom-laced words still took a toll on your overall being. He sensed it in the way your usual humming was kept to a minimum, as did your soft caresses to his body. The fun facts that you would randomly blurt out had basically become nonexistent.

You hadn’t tried initiating sex with Chris due to still being affected by his actions, which was understandable to the brunette.

He could tell you were being cautious around him, which broke his heart more than he could’ve imagined.

The two of you never really talked in depth about what happened, deciding to push it under the rug and move past it. But ignoring the elephant in the room could only last for so long.

That morning was no different. He had spent the night at your place and decided to wake up and make you breakfast in an effort to mend the faltering relationship.

You woke up to an empty bed, something that you were used to since Chris had always been an early riser. Getting your morning routine out the way, you made your descent downstairs with the smell of pesto guiding you down the steps.

Walking into the kitchen, you saw the sight of your topless boyfriend, donning only a pair of boxers and an apron. You watched as he studiously focused on the skillet in front of him. His intense focus and the sounds of eggs frying in the pan made him oblivious to your arrival.

It wasn’t until you made your way towards the fridge next to him, that he registered your presence. “Morning princess, you sleep well.”

“Yeah, I slept fine,” your voice still a bit gravely from your slumber. You poured yourself a glass of orange juice, ignoring the intense gaze from Chris in your peripheral vision.

He was so used to having you touch him in the mornings. Not so much in a sexual way, but more intimately. The way your lips would ghost against his shoulder blade, your palms would hold his sides and pull him against you so that way you could bask in his warmth. Your arms would wrap around his front until your fingers absentmindedly toyed with his lower abdomen, playing with the wisps of hair on his happy trail.

He missed when you would move your lips until they met the space behind his ears, giving light open mouth kisses. The sound of you whispering ‘Morning daddy’ would leave him awestruck. Even though the words were a regular occurrence for him to hear, it was the way you would say it in your morning voice that made it ten times more special.

Though those actions might seem minuscule to others, they meant the world to him and it was killing him that he hadn’t been able to experience such tender moments with you in a while.

“I’m making breakfast- pesto eggs and some bacon for you. It’ll be done in a minute.”

You nodded along before heading to the table, phone in hand while catching up on your morning news.

It didn’t take long before a steaming plate was placed in front of you, the scent of garlic and basil already making you salivate.

Chris sat besides you and watched as you dug a fork into your meal, a smile reaching his face as he heard your content moans.

The two of you ate in silence, only the sound of soft chewing and utensils hitting your respective plates could be heard.

Every so often, you would feel Chris peek at you, hoping for you to start up a conversation with him like you always did. It’s not like you didn’t want to, it was just that you were still hurting due to his words. You know from a psychological standpoint that there was something going on inside of him that caused him to lash out, which you understood. But it didn’t aid in diminishing your apprehensiveness towards opening up to him, afraid that another fight would break out and hurtful words would again be hurled.

He could sense the internal struggle battling within you so he spoke up, breaking you out from your subconscious.

“I know I’ve been saying this repeatedly over the past few weeks, but I want you to know how sorry I am,” Chris sympathetically stated, “You didn’t deserve what I put you through, the things I said. I just hope that we're able to someday go back to how we were.”

You sat there staring at the man in front of you. Was there a way that the two of you can revert to what once was? Could you actually forgive him?

Not knowing how to properly respond, you simply nodded. A tight lipped smile was evidence that Chris had a lot of making up to do.

Finishing up breakfast, you excused yourself to your office to go and work on your dissertation, leaving the brunette alone with his thoughts.

He knew that he needed to do something big to make up for his actions. He also knew that he needed to figure out why he lashed out on you.

Taking out his phone, he clicked on a saved contact and listened to the dial tone ring in his ear.

“Morning, I’d like to make an appointment as soon as possible. It’s an emergency.”

Chris sat on the plush maroon couch, his eyes getting reacquainted with the familiar setting. The office had a few knick knacks littered around the space. A potted plant here and there. Motivational, yet cheesy posters on the wall. An assortment of magazines on the coffee table.

He hadn’t been here in a while, his usual talks were about his anxiety and dealing with fame. But for this appointment it was about you- specifically how he treated you.

The new topic was foreign to him, resulting in the brunette not knowing how to address it. So he silently sat there as his therapist, Dr. Reynolds, held her pen in her hand and studied his behavior.

“So,” she cautiously started, “What brings you in today?”

Chris sat there twiddling his fingers at her question. There could’ve been a few reasons that brought him in, but the main one was why he said the things he hurled at you.

He proceeded to spend the next 10 minutes recapping the events that had transpired, making sure to not spare any detail. After his spiel, Dr. Reynolds skimmed through her notes that she jotted down during his explanation.

Looking up from her notebook, she locked eyes with the brunette. “Do you think that some of your actions correlate with self-sabotaging behaviors? How, when you opened yourself up to her so suddenly it made you feel scared? Scared that you might need to face those fears that are plaguing you.”

Chris sat there incredulously, “Well- I mean no. I don’t think so.”

The pair talked for over an hour, going over the usual allotted time as they broke down why Chris had acted a certain way.

He realized the anger he felt was a coping mechanism to avoid feeling what he truly felt: fear. Mainly his fear of commitment. Part of him was scared that any future marriage would end up like his parents, in divorce. He feared that you would stop loving him. He feared that he would stop loving you.

And that fear was ultimately pushing you away from him. Which uncovered the biggest fear of all, losing you.

Dr. Reynolds eventually received a knock on her door, indicating a waiting patient, causing their therapy session to be cut and saved for another day.

“Thanks doc, I think I know what I need to do now.”

After some much needed self-reflection made in the meeting with his therapist, Chris knew what he had to do. Leaving the office, he pulled out his phone and dialed his publicist, Megyn.

A few rings later, he went into detail to the blonde about his plan. Not caring about what the press might say, or how his fans might react, he needed to get it done.

She wasn’t too keen on dealing with the impending press that would come from it, but she was happy that he was able to find someone that he truly loved.

He went back to your place that evening with a refreshed mind. The rest of the day went by as usual, you both did your own respective things, the tension still heavy in the air.

As you both started on your own night routine, his main focus was on you. He didn’t even know he stopped brushing and was staring until you snapped your fingers in front of his eyes.

“Earth to Chris, everything alright?” your tone was light and airy, hinted with a bit of joy.

Chris looked at the slight smile on your face and was reminded all over again as to why he fell for you. That smile was something that was so ingrained in his mind that not even old age could make him forget it. It warmed his entire being whenever he was sad and it made him realize he could never take it off your face for the rest of his days.

“Yeah princess,” he whispered, still lost in you, “I’m alright.”

You nodded along to him, though your eyes squinted a bit due to being curious of his change in demeanor. Before he was overly cautious around you, now it seemed as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

Before you could set your toothbrush down and set out for bed, he stopped you with a hand on your elbow, pulling you into him. Not caring that there were still dribbles of toothpaste in his mouth, he leant down and attached his lips to yours.

The kiss was soft, he was desperate to feel your softness against him though wasn’t trying to rush the act in any way. Moving his hand up, he held onto your cheek in an effort to pull you even closer than you already are.

The smell of your lavender night cream instantly calmed him, making him feel safe in your embrace and absentmindedly smiling into the kiss.

Chris finally pulled away, only slightly, to look down on you with a dopey grin. “God I’m in love with you.”

For the first time in weeks, a genuine smile reached your face to match the man across from you.

“I love you too love bug,” you sighed against his lips, “You probably should’ve rinsed your mouth though, I can taste your toothpaste.”

A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest, “Sorry, just got caught up in the moment.”

Chris kept you secured in his arms as he continued to stare down at you. There was something different about him, specifically the way his gaze was directed at you. Though you were not complaining.

“How about we bring back date night? I can cook and we can finally sit and talk to one another like we used to.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest at his pleas. It had been a while since you two sat down and basked in each other’s presence. The thought had you hopeful that things could go back to normal.

“I would love that,” you began, “How about Friday? I have a test for a few of my classes this week so we can do it once I’m all free.”

Chris smiled down at you with eyes evident of his admiration for you, “Friday is perfect.”

The rest of the week went on rather differently than previous ones. Your touches came back to his body, fingertips grazing alongside him whenever he was close. Chris would regularly kiss your cheek or top of your shoulder anytime he had the chance.

You did take notice of him on his phone a lot, part of it filled you with uneasiness but the rational part of your brain told you it wasn’t something to ponder too much over, so you let it go.

Chris had been spending the entire week making sure that his plan was rolling smoothly. He had the entire date night planned to a T. He informed his family about it, who were ecstatic for him, making his own mother tear up due to how happy she was. He made sure to have everything ready at the house so that everything would be successful.

The day of the planned affair, you were stuck in your home office grading the last set of tests before being able to officially clock out for the evening. Inputting the grades into Blackboard, you were brought out of focus due to the sounds of buzzing from your phone. Picking up the device, you unlocked it and saw the incoming text from your boyfriend.

Chris: Baby, I know you’re still probably finishing up, but dinner will be ready at my place at around 7. I put something on your bed for you to wear. See you soon!

The endearing message made you smile and also feel a bit elated. You missed the intimate moments shared between you and Chris. The loving looks sent your way, the delicious food and engaging conversations. But most importantly, you missed the sex. Before, the two of you were like jackrabbits, the longest you both went without getting hot and heavy was about 2 days. Now going on over two months, you were becoming insatiable.

Quickly inputting the final test scores in your online grade book, you got ready for your night in with Chris. Heading up the stairs, you walked into your room to be hit with a bit of nostalgia. Laying on the bed was the same black dress that you wore on your first date with him.

With the amount of dresses you had in your wardrobe, it was a shock that he was able to find the specific one you wore that night. The sentiment warmed your heart and filled you with hope.

Rushing to get ready, you went and got dressed, making sure that you appeared your best before heading out.

It was only a quick drive to his home, before you were sat in his driveway.

Your mind was plagued with worry. You feared that if this night didn’t go well, then it would ultimately mean the end of your relationship with the man. Taking in a deep breath, you calmed your nerves before exiting the vehicle and made the trek towards his front door.

Using the house key you still had attached to your own ring set, you unlocked the door and walked in though you didn’t get far when the sight before you made you stop and gasp.

Starting from the front door laid a trail of rose petals leading you through the house. The thoughtful effort made tears begin to form in your eyes and your breath unsteady.

Following the trail, the same smells of vegetables sautéing brought you back to that time over a year ago.

Once you made it inside the kitchen, you saw Chris with an apron adorning his massive frame on top of his suit. Once he took notice of your arrival he turned around and smiled at you. “There you are sweetheart. I was waiting for you to show.”

He turned down the fire before gliding towards you, about to reach down and kiss you when you beat him to it.

Grabbing a hold of either side of his face, you slammed your lips to his; the action surprising you both. You delivered him repeated pecks which caused the brunette to laugh between every one of your kisses.

Getting enough of your intimate fill, you pulled away from him and looked up. “What’s the special occasion? I mean I know it’s date night, but still.”

Chris brought his hands down to rest on the dip of your back before pulling you in closer to him. The action caused your neck to crane up to look directly into his eyes.

“I wanted to make things right with my best girl.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at the slight Captain America reference before delivering another kiss, “Thank you, I love it.”

The meal went according to plan, the two of you enjoying the same shrimp scampi dish he made on your first date together.

You were sipping on your glass of wine when you heard Chris speak up.

“Though I’ve said it more times than either of us can count, I need you to know how regretful I am of how I acted.”

You sighed at his words, “Chris, I said it’s-”

“No, it’s not okay (Y/N),” he interrupted you, “It wasn’t okay for me to lash out at you. It wasn’t okay for me to hurt your feelings.”

“Tonight, I tried to recreate our first date together to show you just how much you mean to me.”

Chris had rehearsed what he was planning on saying for the past few days, but here now in this moment he couldn’t remember a single prepared line. So he just decided to follow his heart.

“(Y/N). The day I met you, it was one of the greatest days of my life. It wasn’t supposed to happen, but fate brought us together- well I guess I should say Ma did with her insisting.”

His words caused you to chuckle, “I can see where you got your determination. She really didn’t quit until she finally got us in the same room.”

The memory of Lisa bringing you two together that afternoon warmed both of your hearts.

“That day we met was the day I knew that there was no one else in the world that would matter to me as much as you would. Every single day that I get the pleasure of seeing that look on your face will forever make me the luckiest man on the Earth. So when I hurled those words at you and took that smile away, it made me feel horrendous.”

You didn’t even realize you had started crying until you felt the warmth of your tears sliding down your cheeks.

Chris reached across the table and curled his fingers around your hand, slightly stroking the back of it with his thumb.

“I know I haven’t been the best boyfriend that I could be. I realized that my own fears of commitment caused me to take out my frustrations out on you, and absentmindedly pushed you away. But I realized that pushing you away was the last thing I ever wanted to happen.”

He felt his heart rate race and his organ beat heavily in his chest, his anxiety slowly rising.

“You are the greatest thing to happen to me. You make the worst days seem minuscule whenever you’re around. I love the way you’re able to always help push me through any obstacle I face, no matter how big or small it may be. The way you easily get along with my crazy family. And I love how you make me feel like I am floating on cloud nine anytime I kiss you.”

Chris felt his hands begin to sweat. One of his hands clasped onto yours, while the other held onto the small box in his left pocket of his slacks.

“A few days ago I had a session with my therapist about you. And during it I realized how much I care about you, and how losing you, even though it was brief, was the worst thing I had ever experienced.”

Slowly standing up on shaky legs, he brought you up with him.

“I had to secretly figure out the right size while you were sleeping the other night,” he began to joke, “You don’t know how hard it was to get the measurement done considering how light of a sleeper you are.”

You felt your heart pound in your chest. You suspected that something was different about his behavior and this evening, and your suspicions were slowly coming to light.

“I can’t ever experience the feeling of not having you by my side again. Waking up to a cold bed and not seeing the way your nose would sometimes crunch up while you're deep in a dream is something I never want to go through again.”

Chris reached into his pocket of his pants and pulled out a cherry red box. The sight of the gold inscription labeling 'Cartier' made your breath catch in your throat and tears fall freely down your face.

The height difference was changed when he steadily dropped down on his left knee, his tear filled blue eyes looking up at you.

“(Y/N), you make me the happiest man in the world. And I know it’s a stereotypical line for me to say, but it’s true. I love how you’re able to bring the best out of me and everyone around you. I love how you love everyone unconditionally. God, I love how fucking breathtaking you are. I am in love with everything about you.”

Letting go of your hand, he held the box in his grasp before cracking it open. The action caused your hands to cover your mouth and you to bend at the knees. With the aid of the lights around the room, it unveiled to you a marquise cut diamond. One either side were two stones. On the left was a pearl, indicating his June birthstone. The other side showed your gemstone, the rocks pairing perfectly with one another.

“So,” Chris began with a shaky breath, “(Y/N) (Y/L/N), will you do me the honor and make me the luckiest person in the world. Will you marry me?”

Your body shook with sobs as you nodded along to his question.

“Wait, are you saying yes?” Chris asked, excitement evident in his tone. “I don’t know if that’s you nodding yes or no.”

Removing your hands from your face you grasped on to your now fiancé’s, “Yes, I would love to marry you.”

Chris didn’t even get the chance to put the ring on you before raising up and slamming his lips against yours. Both of you tasting the salty tears that expelled from the other.

It was his turn to lay a continuous stream of kisses to your lips. Soft chants of ‘thank you’ leaving his mouth between every one.

Pulling away, he retrieved the ring from its box as you held up your left hand. You watched as he slid the band down your finger until it situated perfectly against the base. A content sigh left the both of you.

Chris brought your hand up and kissed the back of it and then your ring finger before locking eyes with you.

You two stayed like that for a while, your gaze flicking back and forth between each other’s lips until finally you two connected them.

This time, the embrace was intimate, more passion filled. Your hands folded against the nape of his neck, the coolness of the gold band making him smile with contentment.

With his hands holding onto your hips, he guided you back until you were met with resistance from the wall behind you; the sudden force causing you to lightly grunt into his mouth.

Lowering his hands until his palms rested on the back of your thighs, he tapped on your skin, an unspoken request for you to jump. While securing your hold on his neck, you jumped up and rested in his palms. With you in his hands, Chris began to walk the two of you towards his bedroom. Since Dodger was staying at his mom's house, he didn’t bother closing the door, not worrying about any sudden intrusion.

Your mouth was still attached to Chris when he laid you down, you head against the soft pillow on the plush bed. His frame towering over you as he shook off the suit jacket from his body, kicked off his shoes and toed his socks away.

“I love you so much (Y/N),” he swooned through kisses.

“I love you too Chris.”

Untying the front of your wrap dress, the silk material fell to the sides of your body, revealing your figure which was only covered by a thin, lace pair of underwear. The sight of your half naked self made him growl down at you in desire.

Removing his lips from yours, he descended down your body, leaving kisses in his wake.

“You’re all mine.”

His lips kissed around your taut nipple, his tongue poking out to flick at your pert bud.

“Forever and always.”

You felt him leaving traces of wetness from open-mouth kisses on your abdomen.

“The love of my life.”

His fingers dug into the sides of your thong before dragging it down your legs.

“My beautiful fiancé.”

You breathing hitched as you felt his warm breath fan across your exposed cunt. The hot air was a stark contrast to the cool slick of your dripping wetness.

“The future Mrs. Evans.”

And with that, Chris flattened out his tongue before running a long stripe up your pussy, lapping up your wetness until he curled it around your clit. “Oh fuck, Chris.”

How exhausting the sexual hiatus that you experienced with the brunette was evident due to how you were squirming on the bed. Your hands spread throughout the sheets, gripping and tugging in an effort to gain some form of steadiness. Over two months without having him on you had you mewling into the air. “Please baby, don’t stop.”

With his tongue occupied, Chris continued to devour you. His tongue alternated between long drags and quick flicks between your folds. You felt the tip of his tongue prod at your opening in a desperate attempt to taste more of you- to feel more of you.

Removing his mouth, he heard you begin to groan in disappointment before it turned into a moan when he spat on your cunt then suctioned his lips around your clit. With one hand holding your stomach down, he used the other to enter your soaking hole with his index and middle fingers.

Chris was gentle with his digits inside of you, dragging his pads alongside your ways, stroking your contracting walls and feeling every ridge. Once he was knuckle deep, he scissored your cunt, basking in the sounds of your squelching around his fingers paired with your content moans of relief.

He replaced his mouth with his thumb, using the limb to draw slow, tortuous circles on your mound as he watched you fall into the deep recesses of ecstasy.

He observed your neck stretch back, exposing a slightly bulging vein running up the expanse. The way your lips quivered as your moans flew freely out. Your legs began to shake when he hit the spot he was all too familiar with deep in your core.

“Look at me,” Chris demanded, his Boston accent evident in his request, “Need’a watch my pretty girl cum all over my fingers.”

The eye contact with the brunette was intense, more fierce than ever experienced before, but you reveled in every second of it. You noticed how his pupils had become blown out, only showing a small ring of blue surrounding the black.

You tried to keep the gaze locked until you felt your orgasm come full force through your body like a tidal wave. “Christopher!”

Upon hearing your screech of desire and feeling your essence begin to soak his digits, he replaced his thumb back with his mouth, longing to taste every single drop of your sweetness. His fingers continued to pump inside of you, prolonging your release and causing more of your juices to flow into and around his mouth.

Chris finally removed his fingers to drink more of you until you attempted to feebly push his head away, the orgasm causing you to lose most of your strength.

“Sorry princess, you know Daddy just can't get enough of you,” Chris moaned as he licked your essence off his lips.

He rose up your lower half and hovered over you staring down at your exhausted self. You mustered the power to raise your arms and grasp his face in your hands before bringing him down to connect lips once more.

The kisses were lecherous, the both of you yearning to taste every single part of the other. Your tongue was firm against his as he massaged yours while you swallowed each other's moans.

Your body felt on fire with the way his large hands were massaging and caressing every inch of your exposed skin. His fingers digging into your softness and pulling you flush against his frame.

Taking your hands away from his face, you began to unbutton his dress shirt, peeling away the material until it unveiled his tattooed chest. Your fingers tracing the large design on his chest before making its way down to his belt, unbuckling it in the process.

Dragging the leather through the loops and away from his body, you unzipped his trousers before reaching in to palm his obvious erection. The action made the man above you keen against your tongue. “I wanna taste you Chris.”

With your thighs around his hips, you nudged him until your positions were switched. His head against the same pillow, he watched as you tugged down the material on his lower half, leaving the two of you completely bare for one another.

You laid down on your stomach between his legs before grabbing hold onto the base of his cock, drawing a hiss from Chris.

His head craned back at the feel of your wet mouth tonguing his length, the wet muscle licking a stripe from the base to his tip. “Ohh- that's it baby.”

You collected your spit before it dripped from your mouth and on his head, the liquid cascading down the massive length. Using it for your advantage, you began to stroke him while attaching your lips around his tip. Your tongue flicked his slit while drinking up his precum.

“God, I love you so much (Y/N).”

Removing one of your hands, you began to swallow his length, stroking off what you couldn’t take down. His moans and groans only stir you on as you bask in the feel of him throbbing in your mouth. With your free hand, you began to palm at his balls; the action making him grip the sheets as well as tenderly holding the side of your head.

His mouth was parted, showing only his tongue, as he panted out. “That’s it baby, such a good girl for me.”

Chris felt his peak slowly approaching, the buildup steadily growing with every swipe of your tongue, suction from your lips and tug at his balls. Though he would’ve loved to release down your throat and watch your mouth milk his balls, he wanted- needed to feel your warmth surrounding him as he coated your walls.

He went to unlatch you from his cock and raise you towards him. “I need to feel you,” he breathed out, “I miss the feel of you around me (Y/N).”

You crawled up his body til you were straddling his hips. Reaching down, you pumped his length a few times before positioning it for entry. The second you began the descent and his head met the resistance from your cunt, you both groaned out.

Chris couldn’t wait any longer so he brought his hands to your hips and fully sank you down on him, sheathing his entire cock inside of you. The action made you lurch forward with your hands planting themselves on his chest in search of stability.

“Oh that’s it princess,” professed Chris, “Missed this tight fucking cunt choking my cock. Missed you so goddamn much.”

With the help of his hands on your hips, you began to slowly work yourself on his dick. Every rise and fall of your hips made you experience the delectable feel of his veined shaft drag against your channel.

“Oh Christopher,” you cooed as you felt him throb inside of you.

“That’s it princess, I’m right here.”

You brought your hands from off of him and covered his large ones. Removing them from your body, you intertwined digits. The new position of your hands allowed the newly added engagement ring to gleam under the light.

If he had a camera, he would’ve wanted to capture the beauty of you in that moment. Every buck of your hips caused your breasts to bounce, the action enticing him even more than already. The sweat that began to form on your body caused your body to shine from the bedroom lights, making your body appear as if it were glowing.

He wanted to frame the glorious sight of you, but he decided to settle with the fact of knowing he would be able to recreate this exact moment for the rest of his life. Recreate with you as husband and wife.

He rose up from the mattress and maneuvered your legs to wrap around his waist before sitting on his haunches. The new position of your naked chest pressed up against his own while he fucked you on his cock was a sort of intimacy that couldn’t be explained.

The closeness of your faces allowed you to feel each other’s breaths warm your features. You could see pupils being blown, feel the sweat dripping off one another, and hear every single sound that escaped the other's mouth.

Attaching his lips to yours, Chris moaned into your mouth. “That’s it baby, cream all around my cock. Milk me til I fill you up with my cum.”

The heels of your feet dug into his lower back and your fingertips gripped onto his neck, leaving scratches in its wake.

You knew for certain that you would have bruises on your waist with the way he had latched onto you, raising you up and down his length.

With every thrust, your sweaty skin slapped together as his balls spanked up against your ass.

“Ahh baby, I- fuck Chris I’m almost there.”

“I know (Y/N), I’m right behind you.”

A few more harsh thrusts as his tip slammed against your g-spot and you were suddenly slammed into the blissful abyss of your orgasm. The tightness of your contracting walls caused Chris to achieve his own release. The shouting sounds of you two reaching your respective peaks echoed throughout the room.

Warmth flooded your body and your cunt as you felt Chris’s cock shoot ribbons of his seed deep into you. He continued to drag you along his length, hoping to prolong the glorious feeling of your pussy throbbing around him.

After the sensation of your peak began to wane, he fell back against the mattress, bringing you down with him.

The two of you laid there in each other’s arms, basking in the warmth radiating off the other.

Chris strokes your back, long traces of his thumb running along your spine as you both regain your breath.

“I’m in love with you (Y/N). So goddamn much.”

Still a little too spent, you nodded while your hands toyed around with his chest.

While you two sat there, a realization popped into the brunette's head, making him begin to stand up. “I’ll be right back.”

You watched his ass jiggle with every step out of the room, the sight making you chuckle. When he returned, he held his phone in his hand.

“Seriously Christopher, you wanna make a sex tape right now?”

A boisterous laughter left him at your assumption, “No sweetheart, not that.”

Chris sat back next to you on the bed as he scrolled through his phone gallery. After a few flicks on his thumb, he finally found the photo that you two took on your first date. You were as beautiful as ever, smiling at the camera as he looked in awe at you.

You watched as he loaded up Instagram and clicked on the plus sign to create a new post. “Chris, what are you doing?”

“Something I should’ve done a long time ago.”

Choosing the desired photo, he went to begin typing out his caption that would unveil you to the world.

chrisevans: A little over a year ago this photo was taken on our first date. I knew from that moment that I wanted to be with you for the rest of my life, that’s why I eagerly asked you to be mine. (Y/N) you make me the happiest man that I could be. I know this past year and a half has been a tough one, especially with everyone in the world claiming that they were dating me while I kept you in the shadows, but enough is enough. There’s no one else that I would rather be with. There’s no one in this entire world that holds a candle to you. To your beauty, your kindness, your everything. You are the love of my life. As of tonight, my fiancé. And soon to be my wife. I love you more than words can describe princess. (Y/@/N)

Chris finished typing out his message before looking down at you, silently asking for approval. He watched as your index finger raised up and clicked on the share button, indicating the end of your secrecy.

A dopey smile made his face before he looked at you, phone in hand, “Now, about that sex tape.”

You laughed at his joke as he made his way to kiss you once more. The embrace was full of contentment due to knowing that things were back to normal with a growing relationship full of unwavering love, reinstated trust, and pure happiness.

A/N: and that's a wrap folks. thank you to everyone who read this series.

also i would like to say that this is in no way an indication of chris evans personality or character. this is just fiction.

if you enjoyed this, please make sure to reblog and comment. feedback is much appreciated !

* divider credits : @firefly-graphics *

#chris evans #chris evans series #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans smut #chris evans one shot #chris evans fluff #chris evans x fem!reader #chris evans rpf #chris evans x reader #chris evans angst #chris evans fic #steve rogers smut #andy barber smut #ransom drysdale smut #pining for professor

757 notes · View notes

willowfolksong · 2 years

Note

hiii!✨ i’ve been obsessed with your writing since i found you and i was wondering if you could do an angsty sanzu x reader x rindou where the reader likes sanzu but is too reluctant to date him because of his habits, so rindou tries to get the reader to go out with him instead😭 it’s okay if you decide not to, thank you for taking the time to read this! :) (in love with the miya conundrum btw❤️)

look only at me

- Rindo Haitani x Reader x Haruchiyo Sanzu

- SFW; very suggestive

a/n: hi @lovelyxsakura !!!! here's your request!!! I had sooooo much fun writing it and I actually enjoyed it so much, that I genuinely hope you do too!! ❤✨ hey! did you know that @lovelyxsakura is a writer, and that she has a blog where she publishes some really good stuff 👀🔥??? I hope you enjoy this request!! always let me know what you think and if you need anything changed!! eternally grateful for your words about my fics and about the miya conundrum 😭 you're just too nice ❤

Love,

Willow ❄

Requests are open! ❄

There's two rules everyone in Bonten knows about Kakucho Hitto:

1 - You don't fuck with him

2 - You don't fuck with his sister.

And there's usually two ways of learning about them: the bad, and the very bad one.

Rindo Haitani was one of the lucky ones, having a first seat view of Kakucho pointing his gun at some poor subordinate's forehead, after he thought he was staring for too long at you.

"I hope to never see the look you were giving her again" Kakucho says through his teeth, and Ran's laughter drowns the trembling man whimpers.

"Maybe you should gauge his eyes out if that happens again, hmm?"

Rindo stares at his brother for a moment, and then back at Kakucho, who looks like it could totally follow the suggestion without even having to blink. Bonten's number three leaves after the guy makes his own exit, probably having peed his pants, and Rindo turns to his brother with an eyebrow raised.

"I didnt knew he had a sister"

Ran hums " A precious little thing. The only family he has left, really. Makes sense he's so protective of her" and then his brother's eyes are on him, twinkling with mischief and something more, a knowing look that Rindo has seen before "And you know what? I think you would like her"

He doesn't knows how, but Ran turns out to be right. You're beautiful, an angel that doesn't belongs in the middle of all the darkness and the blood and the dirt in Bonten. Kakucho probably knows it— that's why he desperately fights to make you stay away from everything.

Rindo wants to wrap his hands around your neck and drown you with him in the chaos.

You're polite, and quiet, and he only talks to you many weeks after the first time he actually sees you. You call him 'Rindo-san', and fiddle with your fingers all the time, nervous and shy; yet somehow, your eyes never leave his.

He likes that. There's braveness in you.

"You don't look like your brother at all" he tells you, and you laugh, and tilt your head to the side.

"I can't say the same about you, tho"

You leave before he can say anything else, Kakucho giving him a weak glare while leading you away, his arm over your shoulders.

He doesn't knows why, but there's something about you.

Rindo takes to look at you. The way you move, you talk, the way your lips slowly curve up when you see your brother approaching. You're a rare gem, a shining light in a dark grey sky. He doesn't understands why you're always around, why you linger on places where people like you shouldn't be, waiting for your brother. Kakucho seems to keep you always around.

Rindo convinces himself that that's why he looks so much your way. That's that why you just won't leave his head. His brother, once again, seems to be one step ahead of him.

"I knew you would like her" he tells him, over a glass of whiskey that has grown warm under the club lights.

"I don't like her" Rindo tries to defend himself, eyeing the crowd. He imagines you there, dancing like the other girls on the dance floor, your sweaty body moving with the music. You would be so out of place.

He palms his growing erection. Ran follows the movement with his eyes "Are you sure about that?"

"I'm just confused about why he has her around" Rindo explains, his other hand taking a hold of his own glass, only to find it empty. He puts is back on the table with enough force to shatter it "She's always with Kakucho"

"I already told you she's the only thing he has" Ran says, pushing his glass towards his brother "He probably thinks is better if she sticks around. That way he can protect her"

For all his protection, your brother is incapable of avoiding what Rindo soon notices. You like Sanzu. It's obvious, painfully so, and he wonders if he's the only one that has realized it so far. Your eyes trail behind the Loyal Mad Dog each time he's around, your cheeks flushed, your teeth digging on your bottom lip.

"Does your brother knows?" he asks you one day, passing by your side as you wait for Kakucho to come out of a meeting.

"Excuse me?" you ask, genuinely confused.

Rindo smirks "Does your brother knows you want to fuck Sanzu?"

You look so taken aback by his words that something stirs in Rindo's chest— at your wide eye gaze and your open mouth.

He has upset you.

You're clearly in distress.

He wonders if someone else has talked to you like that, and the idea of being the only one to use such crude words with you brings some sort of sick satisfaction to his chest.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Rindo-san" you say, trying to sound as composed as you can, even while your hands open and close by your sides "And I... I would ask you not to speak to me like that. Ever again"

Rindo fucks his hand that night at the thought of your angry eyes staring back at him.

His curiosity soon morphs into obsession. He wants you to look at him.

Him.

Not Sanzu.

You seem aware of his eyes on you now, tearing your gaze away every time your eyes find across the room.

"Don't tell my brother" you whisper to him, coming out of one of Bonten's casino bathrooms. Kakucho must be outside. Waiting for you. As always "I'm not going to try anything with Sanzu anyway"

He imagines you on your knees, begging for Sanzu's dick, and his head can only throb with violence. He resists the urge to punch the wall and scare you. "Why would I even tell your brother?"

You shrug, and he pays close attention to the skin on your shoulder. Soft. Probably so soft on his fingers "I don't know"

"Sanzu's not good for you"

He doesn't says that no one in Bonten is.

"I know. And I know how he... behaves" Rindo doesn't knows if you're refering to the drugs, or the fights, or everything at the same time, but he nods anyway "I wouldn't try anything"

"So you'll just look at him from afar, then?"

"And I don't want to fuck him" you add, completely ignoring his words, and frowning at him "It's not like that"

Sanzu's definitely noticed you, to Rindo's annoyance. He might not feel whatever you seem to feel, but your presence doesn't goes unnoticed by Bonten's number 2.

Rindo's blood boils, and he knows Ran would joke about him transforming into Kakucho.

If someone's going to ruin you, that's him.

"What do you see in him?" he asks you, and it looks innocent enough that Kakucho only glances your way, and seems to believe that you're safe because you're not alone, an Executive keeping you safe.

You're not safe with Rindo. He's probably been wanting to steal you away since he first laid eyes on you.

"Can we not talk about this?" you plead, voice trembling "Please"

"I want to, tho" he tries again, and your cheeks take on that lovely shade of red he imagines could extend all the way down to your niples. Rindo writhes in his seat, resisting the urge to touch himself.

"I don't know. It's just something"

"Something how?" he presses on, inching closer to you.

You look at him, and your eyes glint under the lights of the night club. The idea that you shouldn't be there comes to him as a resounding thunder. "I cannot explain. Have you ever had feelings for someone, Rindo-san?"

He digs his nails on the palm of his left hand until blood comes out "Sanzu can't have feelings for anyone. He's insane"

"Why are you telling me this?" you sound like you're on the verge of despair, and Rindo reluctantly tears his gaze away from your eyes to look for your brother instead. He's busy discussing something, his back to the two of you. Sanzu lingers near the table, eyes occasionally sliding from the others to you.

"Because maybe I could" he says, turning his gaze to your collarbone, to the pearls of sweat around it. You're wearing a pretty aquamarine necklace, right around the place where he wants to leave the mark of his fingers. "Have feelings for anyone. For you"

"Why do you torment me like this, Rindo-San?" you ask, eyes open wide, and trying to scurry away. Rindo catches your arm under the table before you can move too far "Ever since we met, why do you do this to me?"

"And why are you doing this to me?" Rindo asks, even tho he knows you don't know what he's refering to.

To look for you in every room.

To put your face to the women he tries to sleep with.

To wanting to know everything about a girl that's almost a complete stranger.

About the foreign feeling festering in his chest because you just won't look at him, and he doesn't wants to lose on this.

"I don't understand" you say at last, and Rindo only chuckles, letting go of your wrist and scanning the crowd for something, anything, to make him forget the feel of you.

"It's nothing, doll. Forget it"

"I... don't think my brother would like to hear you calling me that"

"And I don't think he would like to know you like Sanzu either, I believe" Rindo answers, his arms moving to rest on the back of the couch "And yet I haven't told him anything"

Ran hums, amused, and twirls a strand of his hair lazily around his fingers "Please don't tell me you're in love with the little doll"

Rindo scoffs, eyes on the bed where he was supposed to be having sex with some faceless girl he met at the bar. Instead he's sitting on the edge, hands on his knees and his brother leaning against the door, only because he said your name instead of the one the girl told him before he undressed her.

"Don't call her that"

"Little doll?"

"Yes"

Ran laughs, clicking his tongue "Only you can call her that, then? Kakucho could kill you, you know?"

"He won't do shit to me because he doesn't knows anything"

"And he's never going to know?"

Rindo scratches the back of his neck, sudenly really wanting some alcohol. Anything to burn his throat and make him forget that he's become stupidly obsessed with someone "Yeah, never. I won't do anything"

He tries, he really does.

Not because he owns anything to Kakucho, or anyone for that matter. He tries because it's not on him, to fixate on anything that's not Bonten like that. And maybe a little because of you. The small part of him that doesn't wants to drag you to hell with him talking.

But then he finds you crying.

You're crying.

He's seen many women cry before. Friends and girlfriends and random strangers in general, and he's never felt what he does in that moment, watching your tears slide down your cheeks.

The ache in his chest is so overwhelming that he actually stumbles forward without having the power to stop himself, kneeling in front of you as if on trance.

You look at him, and your eyes are red. "Rindo-san..."

"Don't talk" he warns you, and when you're about to argue he covers your mouth with one of his hands "Don't fucking say anything" you blink through the tears, and he pushes one of his fingers inside your mouth, watching mesmerized as your tongue involuntarily wets the tip "You shouldn't be fucking crying like this, on the floor"

He doesn't wants to see your tears, unless they're for him.

"I know"

"I want you to cry for me" he whispers, moving dangerously close to your lips "I want you to look only at me. Don't you know that by now?"

"Rindo-san..."

He silences you with a kiss before you can say anything else, and the pain he's been feeling in his chest finally explodes.

There's two rules everyone in Bonten knows about Kakucho Hitto:

1 - You don't fuck with him

2 - You don't fuck with his sister.

Good thing Rindo thinks that what he wants to do to you is more than just fucking.

He wants to devour you.

277 notes · View notes

differentkettleoffishalltogether · 3 years

Text

Shut Me Up

A/N: Here’s another smutty one-shot. I felt like something a little cliche so here it is. This was so fun to write! I’m still finding my footing in this fandom as a writer but I think I wanna start taking requests, the next fic I have coming out will be a request and I’m having fun with it so shoot me a message if there’s something you wanna see. I’ve just put together my Masterlist so you can check out my other fics there :)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Spencer and Y/N don’t exactly get on well. Will they be able to work out some of their frustration when they’re forced to share a room for the night?

Category: Pure smut baby

Warnings/Includes: smut, graphic descriptions of sex, dirty talk, oral (female receiving), penetrative sex, name calling, light choking, hair pulling, scratching, please let me know if there’s anything I’ve missed!

Word count: 3850 words

The hotel is somehow worse than usual. It’s got so few rooms that they just narrowly grab enough for the whole team. But few enough that they have to bunk. Y/N didn't love sharing a room but it was better than having nowhere to sleep at all.

Prentiss tosses her a key, “That’s you and Reid” she says it so nonchalant that Y/N almost doesn’t notice it. Once in clicks in her head though she races down the hall.

“Hey, hey wait!” She calls out, a little too desperate, “Emily you can’t put me with Reid. We’ll kill each other.”

She laughs at that, it was on open secret amongst the team that Y/N and Spencer had something of a rivalry going. Bitter sworn enemies apparently. No one really bought it though. People who really truly hated each other would be a lot better at avoiding one another. But Y/N and Spencer could never seem to keep apart for very long.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to put your differences aside for a night.” she waves Y/N off as she heads into her own room, leaving her stranded in the hallway. Contemplating if the reception area might let her crash on the couch, she could even spend the night in one of the SUVs, the seats reclined far enough.

But that was stupid, why should she be the one who had to be uncomfortable, why not Spencer.

When she arrived at the door of her own room Spencer was slumped up against it, he stood up straight once he saw her coming.

“Took you long enough” he spat, reaching to take the key from her but she pulled it back before he had the chance.

“I was on the hunt for alternative sleeping arrangements” she huffs, unlocking the door.

“To no avail I presume?” he jokes but he’s just met with an eye roll.

“I’m taking the bed by the window” she stakes her claim before they even get through the door. Once they’re inside he lets out a chuckle.

“You’re welcome to the side of the bed by the window?” he jokes.

This was infinitely worse than she thought it was going to be. Where there were usually two generally uncomfortable twin beds in these standard small-town motels, instead there was a queen sized bed, staring at them as they stood at the foot of it.

“I get the bed” she says like she’s calling shotgun.

“Bullshit you get the bed, there’s nowhere else to sleep!” he complains.

She takes a second to scan the room, no sofa, no arm chair, the floor is a scratchy carpet. There’s no real option here. “You can sleep on the desk?” she suggests, and she’s not serious about it, but she wouldn’t say no if he agreed.

“Are you kidding me?” he almost shouts.

“Soft mattresses are bad for your back! Maybe it’ll sort out your posture?” she adds.

“There’s nothing wrong with my posture” he groans, massaging his temple.

“Okay sure, you tell yourself that”

They don’t say anything more about it as they unpack. Showering and changing for bed in silence. When Y/N comes out from he bathroom, Spencer is sitting up on one side of the bed, reading through case files by the light of the bedside lamp.

“Are you serious?” she whines.

“Look, we both need rest, just shut up and get over yourself” he says it without looking up from the file in his hand, his finger running over the lines at speed.

She doesn’t respond, she just climbs in on the other side, keeping herself as close to the edge of the mattress as possible to keep the distance in between them.

She lies like that for about 45 minutes but sleep’s just not coming.

“Are you ever gonna turn off that fucking light, I thought we ‘needed rest’” she mocks, turning over to look at him, still combing through the files, mumbling to himself every once in a while.

“We’ll both be useless tomorrow if we don’t get any sleep” she tries to convince him with a slightly more sincere tone.

This case wasn’t easy, the unsub had been abducting victims he’d met in online BDSM chatrooms. Bodies had been turning up murdered in ways that the victims had previously expressed were turn-ons. Suffocated, whipped, tied up in peculiar ways. There wasn’t much information to go on now, they just had to wait for the next body to turn up but that didn’t keep Spencer from pouring over everything a hundred times.

When he wasn’t being purposefully irritating Y/N honestly admired his work ethic. Just not when it was interfering with her much needed sleep.

“The bare minimum of sleep most humans need to live is just 4 hours in a 24 hour period” he blurts out, still not looking up.

“Well I’m not most humans, so knock it off”

He finally concedes, chucking his files onto the bedside table and shutting off the lamp. It’s now eerily quiet, and all she can hear is the steady breathing coming from the other side of the bed.

Enough time passes that she really should be asleep but it’s still not happening. So she’s already beyond irritated when she feels a slight shove against her shoulder.

“Hey, you still awake?” he sounds mischievous, she knows that tone of his voice and she doesn't like it.

“God! I am now! What do you want?” she mumbles into her pillow.

“I’ve just got a question” he says defensively.

She hums and rolls over to face him, he’s wide awake, “Well? Out with it” she encourages, the sooner this is over with the better.

His mouth twists into a smirk as he takes a minute to study her face, “What turns you on?” he asks it sincere, and she has no idea what to do with that.

Rolling her eyes on instinct she groans, “Ugh, are you serious? I was so close to getting to sleep, goodnight asshole.” she turns back around to end the conversation but he can’t leave it there.

“I’m serious actually, just all the talk about it earlier, I wanna know”

She doesn’t move as she speaks, remaining with her back to him in a bid not to engage, “You couldn’t handle that information.” She deadpans.

“Try me” he antagonizes, and that’s enough to set her off. He just didn’t know when to quit.

This could be a fun new way to tease him, is her first thought. Turn him on, leave him wanting, yet another game to add to their repertoire of spite.

“Fine I’ll give.” she turns back to him, staring intently this time, “Here’s one, I really get off on having my hair pulled” she scoots closer so she can lean in and whisper the next part, “like when I’m getting fucked from behind, or I’ve got someone’s cock down my throat. I love having my hair pulled, just the short sharp pain of it.” she sort of moans the last little bit right by his ear before settling back on her own pillow.

“That good enough?” she asks, and she can practically see his breath catch in his chest.

He takes a steady gulp, “Yeah, that was, informative” he breathes.

“And what about you?” she poses, he’s not getting out of this one so easy. He looks shocked, like he didn’t see this coming a mile off.

“Me? Uh—” he stutters, “My back, I get really— I get turned on when someone digs their nails into my back, like scratching and marking” something about seeing him flustered like this is almost endearing.

“I guess we’re both suckers for pain” she winks as she says it, making a move to turn around again in a bid to let the conversation die but he doesn’t give her the chance.

“Tell me another” he pleads, and she’s not sure what his expression means but she might just draw this out, see how far she can can tease this.

“Hmm, nosy aren't we?” she smirks, he doesn't respond, just waits for an answer. She thinks for a moment, “Have you ever choked anyone Dr. Reid?”

His breath hitches, and he shakes his head. She likes this new Spencer, the one that doesn’t seem to have some quip for her every two seconds.

“Well I think you might like it, you’ve got nice strong hands, long fingers too. I feel like they might make it the whole way round my neck if you tried?” her voice is soft like velvet as she speaks. He lets out a short pant, and she can see his eyes flicker down to her exposed throat before quickly coming back to her eyes.

“Does the idea of that turn you on Doc?” she teases.

“I— um—” he’s at a loss for words yet again.

“That’s not an answer now is it?” She taunts him, and moves to turn around once again. Feeling accomplished in her goal, finally about to get some sleep. But she’s barely closed her eyes when she can feel him move. He’s so close behind her that she can feel the heat radiating from him. His hand slowly reaches around and grasps her throat gently, she moves herself further into his grip on instinct and he runs with it. Using the leverage to pull himself right up behind her, and she can feel it. He’s hard, and she can feel him pushing himself right up against her ass.

“Is this a satisfactory answer?” he moves in close and whispers against her ear. She’s changed her mind, maybe this is her favorite Spencer.

“Mmhmm” she hums in response, and his fingers tighten around her neck. She pushes her ass further back, moving it up and down slightly to create some friction and she can feel him twitching through the thin layer of her nightdress. He starts to move with her, grinding against her, his other hand resting on her hip, fingertips digging in so that he can pull her closer.

She tries to moan when she feels his nails dig into her but it gets stifled in her throat.

“You sound pathetic” he whispers, “I’ve barely even touched you and you’re whining like a little slut” her hips buck involuntarily at that. “You like it when I call you names?” he teases.

The hand on her hip starts to pull at her nightdress, inching it up higher and higher until his fingers are on her bare skin. He digs his nails in just slightly and drags them around her thigh, letting them settle right at the hem of her panties.

“I bet if I put my fingers in here I’d find you soaking wet for me already?” When she doesn’t answer he tightens the hand around her throat so that it’s almost cutting off the air supply, then loosens immediately. “Answer me” he demands.

“Yes! Yes!” she moans, anything to get his hands to move where she wanted them.

“That’s what I thought” he laughs and lets go of her completely. Her dress hiked up, breathing ragged. She snaps back around to look at him and he’s already curled up on his side of the bed as though nothing’s happened. Left in shock she sits upright, crossing her arms across her chest.

“What the fuck was that?” she has to stop herself from outright shouting at him.

He turns back to look at her, taking in her sullen expression, “Disappointed are we?” he teases with a smirk. And that look makes her want to kill him.

“You’re such a dick” she huffs, and he sits upright next to her.

“You say that like I didn’t just beat you at your own game?” he tries to fight back.

“You didn’t beat me!” she protests

“Oh really, and how’s that?”

“I could feel you, you were rock hard before you even touched me” she spits it out, because if she turned him on first then somehow this didn’t feel as embarrassing.

“Yeah! Because you were teasing me!” he looks frustrated now,

“Exactly! Because I was teasing you, and you fucking liked it” he just rolls his eyes at that, pretending like it’s somehow not true.

“Shut the fuck up” he groans, running his hands through his hair and letting his head fall back against the headboard.

She quirks an eyebrow and looks straight into his sleepy eyes, “Make me.”

In less than a second his hands are on her again, grabbing and pulling her into his lap. One hand is firmly on her back, holding her tight against his chest, the other is tangled in her hair already. Grabbing fistfuls as their lips work against each other.

It’s heated, and ferocious, full of pent up aggression, or tension, or both.

As his tongue works against hers, she lets her own hands wander over him, finally coming to rest at the back of his head, tangling in his curls. When she grinds down into his lap she can feel his cock still hard beneath her, straining against the fabric of his boxers. She thought it was impossible but it felt harder than it had been earlier.

He breaks apart the kiss and they both take in wrecked breaths, chests heaving. He pulls at the hem of her nightdress, pushing it further up her thighs, grabbing a rough handful of her ass as his hands find the exposed skin there.

“We gotta get this off” he whispers, and she nods, pulling it off over her head so that she’s exposed now. Perched in his lap in nothing but her panties. “Fuck” he moans at the sight. His hands come straight up to grab her tits, rough and exited for a moment before easing up, kneading them, getting used to the weight of them in his hands. He brings his mouth down, leaning in so that he can place sloppy open mouthed kisses along her neck and collar bones, trailing down to the valley between her breasts. He takes one of her nipples in his mouth, sucking on it gently then teasing the bud with his teeth. When he releases it and looks up at her his eyes almost look glazed over, dreamy.

“I’ve always had a thing for your tits” he confesses, his lips coming down to repeat the action on the other nipple.

“Your turn to take your shirt off” she whines as he removes his lips, the cold air hardening her nipples now that he’d teased them. He drags his eyes away from her for a second so that he can peel his shirt off over his head.

On pure instinct she rakes her nails across his now bare chest, leaning in close to place kisses into the crook of his neck, moving up painfully slow, kissing along the column of his throat, landing on the soft skin beneath his ear. She can feel the moans rippling in his throat against her lips. While he’s stilled beneath her she takes the opportunity to tuck her hands in behind him, digging her nails into his back and dragging them across the skin with force. Certainly leaving harsh red lines in their wake. The noises that escape him might be the best thing she’s ever heard.

“You like it when I mark you up?” she moans into his ear, “When I make you mine?” she can feel wetness pooling between her own legs as she says the words. The very thought of it turning her on more than she ever thought it could.

Clearly he feels the same, something erupts in him and the hands that had been resting on her hips were now lifting her up and laying her down on the bed. He was on top of her now, his hair framing his face as he looked down at her, and she was biting her fucking lip in anticipation.

He almost can’t even look directly at her so he snakes down her body, littering her torso with kisses and licks. Once he lands at her hips he takes the elastic of her panties between his teeth, pulling it up and letting it go so that it snaps against her stomach. She lets out a low moan.

“Let’s see if I was right earlier, how wet are you for me?” his voice is low as he places small kisses over the cotton, making his way right in between her legs. He pulls back for a second to inspect the fabric, there’s a damp patch covering the majority of the area, as if he didn't know already. “You’re fucking soaked Y/N” he groans and presses his fingers right up against it, forcing the fabric between her folds so that it soaks up even more, “Such a needy little thing aren’t you?”

She can only let out a small whine in response, her teeth biting into her lip so hard she was afraid she might start bleeding.

“Better get rid of these, don’t you think?” he hooks his fingers into either side of her panties, sliding them down her legs. He takes them and places them on his pillow before returning to his position between her legs.

He’s slow and deliberate in his actions, teasing painfully as he places sloppy kisses on the delicate skin inside of her thighs. Stopping right at the top to nip and suck enough to leave a bruise. Taking the time to stop and leave a matching bruise on the other thigh.

She was starting to grow restless, she felt like she was literally aching for any stimulation at all.

“Spencer” she whines, “Please, I’m so fucking turned on already”. She can feel him chuckle, his exhale sends a burst of cold air right against her pussy.

“So impatient” he chastises, but gives in anyway. Laying his tongue flat against her, taking a moment to taste her before he starts to move. Licking deft strokes along her folds, alternating with sucking softly on her clit.

“Spencer, fuck, oh my god” is all she can muster as her back arches up off the bed, her hips squirming as he pins them down. “You feel so fucking good”

He takes the encouragement and brings a finger to her entrance, pushing it in at an agonizing pace, curling it upwards against her once it’s fully inside. “You’re so fucking tight Y/N, do you think you could even handle another finger?” he has to take his mouth off of her to speak but it’s worth it for the downright filthy sounds she makes in response. He takes that as a yes and slowly pushes two fingers in this time. Bringing his lips back down to wrap around her clit and suck.

Her hands fly down to his curls as he works his fingers in and out of her at a relentless pace. She grabs handfuls of his hair and pulls them harshly, not knowing where else to put the energy. “Fuck Spencer, feels so good, don’t stop” she mutters between gasps.

He continues his ministrations and he would be lying if he said the feeling of her hands pulling at his hair weren’t doing something for him.

A moment later and she’s barely able to control her movements, thrashing in the bed as he continues to work his fingers in and out of her, relishing the feeling of her walls tightening around him. Once she’s relaxed again he takes his fingers out, bringing them up to her lips, without telling her to she opens her mouth, taking the two fingers in, letting her tongue move around them to taste herself.

It’s one of the many memories from tonight he knows he wont forget anytime soon. Or ever.

“I can see why you like it” he says, leaning over her, talking into the crook of her neck, “having your hair pulled, feels fucking amazing” she lets out a weak laugh, regaining her strength.

“Told you you liked pain” she reaches down between them, grabbing his cock through his boxers, “You must’ve really liked it” she teases, squeezing as his eyes flutter shut and he nods.

He maneuvers a little so that he can take off his boxers, and finally she gets to see it. It’s perfect, bigger than she expected, it looks painfully hard, precum leaking from the tip. He moves back to hover over her, lingering for a minute to take her in. She thinks there might be something almost sweet behind his expression.

“Just fuck me already” she smirks up at him and he rolls his eyes without even meaning to.

“Will you ever stop antagonizing me?”

“If you fuck me maybe?”

With that he leans down to capture her lips in a heated kiss, she can taste herself on his tongue as it tangles with hers. She can feel him push up against her, the head of his cock just teasing at her entrance before sinking in so slowly she was almost angry.

“Fuck Y/N, you feel so good, so fucking tight, so fucking wet for me” he’s whispering right into her hear and she can barely string together a sentence.

“Spencer, you’re so big, fill me up so good with your fingers, with your cock, fuck” as he starts to move they both start to lose it, her hands digging into his back, her nails sinking into his shoulders leaving small half-moons in his skin. He finally starts to build a steady rhythm, thrusting in and out of her, filling the room with the pornographic sounds of skin on skin, coupled with their moans.

Once she can feel the familiar feeling building within her again she starts to lose control completely, her nails scratching marks into the expanse of Spencer’s back, hearing the little breathy gasps he lets out each time she does might be enough to make her cum all on their own.

“I’m close” she mewls, letting her head fall back against the pillow, exposing her neck, eyes screwing shut.

“Fuck, me too” he takes the opportunity presented to him, and wraps one of his hands around her neck, squeezing ever so slightly.

“Ahh, fuck” she breathes out with the little air that she has, “gonna cum” and she does, he can feel her tighten around his cock, her body writhing beneath his and arching up off he bed as he continues to fuck into her.

He’s following behind just a second later, spilling into her as he collapses back down, releasing his grip on her throat completely and settling on her chest.

They both take a moment. Melting into one another, steading out their breathing.

It’s Y/N who breaks the silence, “So you’ve always had a thing for my tits then?”

He cranes his neck up to look at her, “Shut up” he breathes, laying his head back down on her chest. She cards her fingers through his hair, smoothing it back down.

“Now you know how to make me.”

Masterlist

4K notes · View notes

mimzy-writing-online · 3 years

Text

Writing Toph Beifong, Advice from a Blind Writer

I’m Mimzy, an actual visually impaired writer and blogger who talks a lot about writing blind characters accurately and sensitively. A while back someone sent me an anon asking how to write Toph more accurately and sensitively.

Anonymous asked: Hi there! Your blog has been super-helpful already - I thought I knew a bit about writing with blind characters, but it turns out there was a lot to learn - but this is more specific. I'm writing a The Last Airbender fanfiction, and one of the characters is Toph. I think the fandom has done a fairly good job of respecting her blindness, but what are some things you'd like to see when people write her? I want to represent the character as best as possible; thanks in advance!

It’s taken a while for me to answer because I have a lot of thoughts about it as both a blind writer and someone who has read a lot of atla fanfiction. So here we go:

Before we get started, I want to mention some things:

One: I have an entire series for writing blind characters that continues to grow with time and the most up-to-date version can be found pinned as the top post on my blog. There will be a time-stamp for when the post was last edited and a long series of links to all relevant posts on the subject.

Here’s a quick link to that post, but again, all you have to do is click my blog url and you’ll find it immediately.

Two: I’ve noticed something amazing about the atla fandom and I would like to thank you for it. I’ve noticed a lot of bloggers have taken to writing image descriptions for both the fanart and memes you post in the fandom, whether it’s OP including the description or another blogger adding it themselves. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a fandom so consistently doing this and that’s incredible. Realizing how many different blogs were picking up this habit has warmed my heart.

I’d like to see writers use her other senses. There’s soooo so much more to her O&M (Orientation and Mobility) than earth sense.

Beyond sight and earth bending, there’s hearing, touch, smell, taste, sense of direction, hot vs cold, sense of pain, sense of where your body parts are in relation to the rest of you, sense of internal well-being, etc. Before Toph had mastery of her earth bending, she had to have mastery of those too.

Toph also must have very strong opinions about certain smells, sounds, tastes, and textures. Toph is opinionated about everything, and when so much of your understanding of the world depends on senses that most people are ignoring in favor of some other sense you don’t have, it gets frustrating. I’m sure that tree looks pretty but the smell is terrible. Who cares if this fabric looks pretty, it’s scratchy, do. not. like. at. all.

But also in positive ways too. Oh, that flower arrangement looks bland and monochromatic? Who cares, it smells sweet and honey-like. Weird dark cavern with high ceiling and no light? The harmonics are awesome.

Every character probably has a certain sight or image they’re particularly fond of: Katara watching snow fall, or Aang enjoying how small the world looks from up on Appa, or Zuko enjoying the sunrise every morning during meditation. In that line, Toph must have some things personal to her that she enjoys.

I imagine she likes the taste of foods familiar to her childhood, the smell of whatever flowers grew around her home, and the texture of certain kinds of dirt Example: loose dirt probably isn’t the best for seeing, but I think she would enjoy how it feels to run her fingers through it or maybe enjoy the way it softens her perception of the world the same way sighted people like to see colorful, bright lights reflecting off puddles in the middle of rain.

If you struggle with this, that’s okay. I recommend taking some time to think about it for yourself, to find what tastes and smells and textures and sounds you enjoy the most, what makes you feel safe and at home, what brings you comfort, and relate that back to Toph.

In a Modern AU, I want to see Toph have a cane. Even in a Modern AU with bending included in the world building, I think Toph would benefit from having a cane.

The cane has a lot more function than bumping into things. A big part is that it signals to others that you are very obviously blind. Which is a big deal because sighted people are really, really bad at spotting the blind person.

(psst, please stop saying ‘the blank look in her eyes’ because I swear to god it’s been killing me inside for years.)

Also, even in an AU with bending, I think Toph would like the advantage of tapping her cane to create a stronger, more distinct vibration than a small shifting of her weight on her feet. It would have more control.

You could give Toph a guide animal, buuuuuuut, um, Toph is not a guide dog person. Like, there are some people who definitely prefer a guide dog, and some people who definitely prefer a cane, and some who definitely prefer no mobility device at all. Toph does not have the vibes of someone who wants to be both responsible and reliant on an animal when she’s so insistent that she can take care of herself on her own. Toph likes animals, but not that much.

Although, yeah, only 10% of the blind community use mobility devices, so cane and guide dog users are the minority of the blind community, but I stand by the vibe that Toph would love the independence of a cane. Also, it’s almost never ever done. Modern AUs never seem to touch much on Toph’s O&M skills with canes or guide dogs.

I wrote a whole post on everything you need to know about canes, what orientation and mobility is, how you learn O&M, what kind of canes exist, how to use them, how to describe the sensory input a cane gives you, and everything I know about guide dogs from past research.

Honestly, you could give Toph (or any blind character) a cane in any AU, because I fully stand by the theory that canes are a piece of technology that has been invented, lost, and reinvented again and again.

I wrote “I found a piece of lost blindness history” a few months ago after a visit to see my grandparents. My grandmother told me how her blind aunt found a way to write letters by hand to send to my grandmother when she was a child. I speculated on how the long cane has probably been invented and then lost and then reinvented over and over again in history, as well as giving a little history on the growing popularity of guide dogs in the 20th century following World War 1.

About the “blank look in her eyes,” I have a theory to the exact cause and nature of Toph’s blindness.

I know it’s common to think that the milky green color of her eyes is why she’s blind, though I’m not sure how many realize that milky green color is caused by severe cataracts. At least, cataracts is what I assume to be the reason for the color of her eyes. However, people with cataracts still have some remaining sense of light and shadow perception.

Only 9% of the blind community is completely blind, seeing absolutely nothing. The rest have some remaining vision, even if that’s only light and shadow perception or the perception of vague movement.

The percentage of people born completely blind is even smaller.

Toph says that she’s never been able to see, which would lead me to guess that the initial cause of her blindness was a defect with the visual processing part of her brain. I also theorize that the cataracts developed slowly over her very formative years and that she likely wasn’t born with them. For that reason, I think it would have taken a few weeks or months for her parents to realize there was something wrong with her eyes.

Here is a post about the developmental years of blind children and how their life would differ from both sighted children and from someone who went blind as an adult.

What is it like to see nothing?

It’s a concept that sighted people struggle with and I completely understand. I myself didn’t understand the concept of “nothing” until someone explained it as this:

“Imagine trying to see out the back of your head.”

Which, genuinely, imagine that. Try that. Because here’s what I found. There’s no part of my body that can help perceive that. I don’t have eyes there, nor do I have a part of my brain that can process that. Because of this, there is no sense of light or dark, no shape or shadow or movement or depth that I can perceive. There is nothing.

And honestly, it gives me a headache trying to think too much about it.

Toph doesn’t see black, doesn’t have a mental image of it. When people talk about light and dark, Toph has nothing to base the concept on. The closest relation she has to that is silence versus sound, or her earth sense when she’s in the air on Appa versus when she’s on solid ground. But it’s not the same.

I would like to examine the way the show tried to describe Toph’s earth sense, that black void with ripples of white stretching from her feet and outwards. Television is a visual medium so of course their explanation of Toph’s earth sense would be visual, but that’s not what it’s actually like in her head. More accurately, it’s like touching the back of your head to something and feeling what’s solid behind it and what has more give. A wall versus a pillow for example. Slamming your hand on a flimsy table and feeling it rattle under your palm. And for someone so adept at using that sense, she feels not just the table surface under her palm, but the individual rattles down the four legs, how uneven those rattles are because the legs are carved decoratively instead of solid planks, and how the foot of each leg bumps against the ground, and how the floor vibrates in response to the impact, which she feels in both her feet and hand.

About Toph’s Relationship with Her Parents

It’s not something I see touched on much. There’s been a lot of focus on Zuko and Azula’s relationship with their parents and the abuse, as well as exploration of Sokka and Katara’s trauma with losing their mother, and Sokka looking up to his warrior father while Katara struggles with her abandonment issues.

Please don’t take this as a critique, because there are a few valid reasons for this and I would like to give you some insight on how to explore Toph’s relationship with her parents.

For starters, the show had a lot more reason to focus on Zuko and Azula’s parents, with Fire Lord Ozai being the primary villain and Zuko’s greatest abuser, and Azula’s dependent worship of her father in response to Ursa’s neglect and favoritism of Zuko, which was likely Ursa’s response to Ozai’s favoritism of Azula. Their parents are huge driving motivators for why Zuko and Azula make the decisions and mistakes they do, why they are at one point in the show the villains themselves. (And why I think Azula should get a redemption arc and some healing.)

Katara’s trauma of losing her mother and blaming herself is a huge factor in both her response to the war, her relationship with her bending, and her motherly nature with her friends. The show has to explore that. Just as it has to explore Sokka’s problems with toxic masculinity in response to being the man of his village, and his desire to be a great warrior and leader like the father he idolizes.

The show needs to explore that to make the plot move forward, and it benefits from these being two sibling sets with different responses to their upbringing and different sibling dynamics, setting them up as foils for each other.

The show also wouldn’t benefit by giving Lao and Poppy Beifong more screen time. Their established character were two nobles who kept as far out of the war as possible and prospered monetarily for it. Poppy was polite and demure and Lao liked to lead the conversation. Unless the gAang decided to return to Toph’s home, those characters had no reason to pop up anywhere in the show. And if they did, they would be a hinder to Toph and her part in the plot as both Aang’s earth bending teacher and as the greatest earth bender in the world, tossing Fire Nation soldiers eight ways to Sunday.

So truly, I understand that there’s not a whole lot of canon material (comparatively) to go off of when developing this, but I will offer some insight on what is there in canon.

Toph’s relationship with her parents is explored in that it maps out why Toph doesn’t want to be mothered by Katara, why she wants to prove how independent she is, but there’s very little on screen interaction between Toph and her parents.

Toph deeply loves her parents. I think that plays into why she doesn’t want Katara mothering her, because she has a wonderful mother at home who she loves and wants to better understand her, but she had no friends growing up and no older sister, which are the roles she needs and wants Katara to fill. If Toph wanted a mother figure, she would have latched onto Katara. Look at how Zuko never sought out another mother figure but did find a father figure in Iroh as he began to heal from his childhood trauma and separate his self image from his father’s acceptance.

Toph is in a complicated situation, she loves her parents but the way they’re raising her is hurting her in the long run. But Toph can see that their actions are because of their immense love for her. She can see how they would do anything for her. While she never had any examples of how other noble children were treated by their parents, who might have been distant or disinterested or always away for their social and work lives, she was remarkably loved by her parents. Her father put careful thought into her tutors and checked in on her progress. Her mother feared for Toph’s emotional state when she was kidnapped (even if she was incorrect about how Toph would respond), showing genuine empathy for her daughter.

I think their over protective nature became the love language Toph best understood them by, and part of her reasoning for not revealing how capable she was, was because she wanted to keep experiencing that love and care for as long as she could. But it’s not a love language she would put up with from anyone else.

I would like to point out Toph’s genuine excitement to see her mom again in the season finale of Book Two, how badly Toph wants her mom to understand and accept her for who she is.

My thoughts on what Toph can’t do: read, swim, see in the sand, fight things mid-air.

For how incredibly powerful the show makes Toph with her earth bending and the O&M she taught herself through it, they do touch on some of her weaknesses when they come up and find a useful way to showcase them.

The Serpent’s Pass was an excellent example of Toph’s vulnerability in water. From her fear of not being able to see on Katara’s ice bridge to not being able to swim and needing Suki to save her, Toph’s weaknesses putting her in danger added to the excitement and “sitting on the edge of your seat” feeling while watching the episode without turning her into someone who was helpless. She was just in a position where her normal defenses were useless.

Just like the earth benders in the metal prison in the ocean, or Katara having little water in the middle of a desert where her friends needed that water to survive more than she needed it to fight, making her vulnerable later in the show when the insect-wasp things attacked. Just like fire benders being weaker at night, or powerless during a solar eclipse, or a sighted person being lost in the dark. Those were just situations in which the tools you were accustomed to relying on could no longer help you or were taken away.

The show was clever in that it didn’t make her inability to read a direct threat to her safety, but rather as a clever plot device for her to be alone when the sand banders attacked and have to choose between fighting them to save Appa, or holding back an entire fricking building by the tiniest spire on its very top from falling into a void leading to the spirit world. It also showed her weakness to not being able to see or fight as well in sand. Which the show later made an effort to show how she’d improved on that problem in Book Three when she was surrounded by nothing but sand at Ember Island.

Like improving her ability to see in the sand, I would like to see a character teach Toph to swim, or at least float, so that she never feels helpless again. If she took the initiative to improve her sand bending so much, I’m sure she would have learn to swim eventually.

And on the note of reading, I’ve seen some speculation on how Toph could learn to read, whether it’s through using ink that has some percentage of earth mixed in, or developing the sensitivity to feel out the different weight, consistency, and texture of ink on paper.

I would like to bring your attention to Louis Braille, the blind Frenchman who invented Braille while studying at the Institut National des Jeunes Aveugles, the world’s very first school for the blind in Paris France (established 1785). Previously Louis was learning to read through a method in which each letter was pressed into the paper to leave an imprint that someone could feel out with just their fingers.

Louis Braille concluded that raised lettering was impractical because-

1. It is difficult to read, the letters had to be printed in huge font to be fully felt out and printed on thick paper.

2. Thick paper means higher quality, more expensive. Larger font means more paper is needed for a single text.

3. This made it inaccessible due to expense and the sheer volume of a text.

4. If today’s Braille books are hard to access and giant compared to traditional books, I can’t imagine how inaccessible those raised letter books really were.

The subject of Braille, the start and controversial near downfall to Institut National des Jeunes Aveugles were discussed in a post about writing a blind character during the Victorian Era.

I’ve heard others complain in the past about fantasy universes in which a sighted person invents a solution to allow the blind to read, when the most effective and longest lived method was invented by a blindman over two hundred years ago and is the standard taught in schools today.

And while I couldn’t easily explain it or how it works because I can neither read Braille nor speak Chinese, I can tell you that Chinese Braille exists and works only slightly differently from the Braille western languages use. So, again, modern AUs especially would benefit from enabling Toph to read Braille and use a computer and phone with screen reader.

But just as easily you could choose not to have her learn to read but rather have sighted people read things aloud to her. Whether it’s in a professional setting as an adult having an assistant who reads and writes for her, or as a cute, fluffy little moment between Toph and another character. Both are just as genuine to the blindness experience.

Blind Jokes

If you ever get around to reading my post about blind jokes, I’d like you to remember that it’s primarily written for people writing original characters and that Toph canonically makes blind jokes, so to take away from that would not be true to her character.

Does Toph’s Earth Sense Negate her Blindness?

It’s a question I’ve seen raised before and discussed by both abled, disabled, and blind people. There are multiple perspectives on it, but my own take on it is that Toph’s earth bending does not negate her blindness, but rather functions very much like the process of learning to use a cane.

She had a tool, a teacher, and she learned to use that tool. Instead of a cane, it was seismic perception and her teacher were blind badger-moles. She spent years learning to earth bend as they do and then continued to take it to new heights as she explored fighting with it on her terms against sighted fighters.

Come to think about it, I would love to see Toph teach another visually impaired or blind earth bender who to see and bend as she does.

Is Toph Good Blindness Representation?

This question was posed to me in the comments of my master post, and my answer was something like this: “Toph is good representation, but she can't be the only type of representation we get. She's the best we had 15 years ago, but there are a million ways to nuance the blindness experiences. Toph's experience being born blind, having very over protective parents, being a small girl in a patriarical and wealth influenced society, having no friends growing up. Those are all great aspects of blindness to show, but there is so much more to explore. As for her blindness and whether or not that's negated, that's also nuanced. She has limits, she's not all-powerful, but she is the best earth bender hands down. More or less, I love Toph, she's a great character, give me like a million more blind characters who are completely different from her.”

I want to see accurate and well-written blind characters become much more common in modern media, and that’s why I started this blog. So if you decide you want to write your own blind character from scratch, feel free to come back and look at some of my other stuff.

End Notes:

I want to thank the anon who sent the original question because it never occurred to me how much the atla fandom would benefit from a post like this.

You should follow my blog. Along with advice about writing blind characters, I write general writing advice and answer questions about writing, college, plot development, character analysis, and living with blindness. I curate writing advice from fellow writeblrs, write my own image descriptions for writing memes, post about mental health and working/living with ADHD, disabilities outside of blindness, and LGBTQA+ topics.

#avatar the last airbender #toph beifong #atla toph #atla #blind character #writing advice #writeblr #fanfiction

2K notes · View notes

sirensmojo · 3 years

Text

"Collection" - Hubby!Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Big fluff, typical wife/hubby scenes.

gif of @mistress-gif {here is the post}

Summary: Tommy ruining your carpet collection.

*Masterlist*

“Tommy, what’s this?” You calmly asked, pointing down.

“The ground, Y/N.”

“On top of it, you idiot.”

“Carpet?” He responded not sure about what your point was.

“Yeah. Now, what’s on top of it?”

“What’s the thing, eh?” Tommy was puffing on his cig while reading the newspaper, as usual for this time of the day.

“Just answer me, Thomas.”

It was around 4 in the afternoon, the only time in the day when he wasn’t too busy these days. He spent most of the time at the House Of Commons, so much that a little routine had settled.

Each day at 3:30 you heard his car outside, a maid telling you your husband was back home. And as each day at that hour, you were reading your weekly book, training your creativity for the novels you were writing.

When Tommy was back at the Arrow house, you weren’t there to welcome him, but you always had the maids put some tea in the living room along with biscuits for him.

“Wine.” He confidently responded, still reading his papers.

You knew your husband, despite whatever he was doing outside the house, he loved his cocoon, this moment of peace you gave him. In the only free hours of his day, he could drink without thinking too much, but Tommy being him, he soon began to read some books about politics, he couldn’t stay too long without doing anything.

You would always let him spend this time alone, sitting on the armchairs of the living room, a drink of whiskey next to his cup of British tea and a plate of biscuits. You let him charge his batteries, so he wouldn’t be too exhausted when coming back late at night.

All you wanted was to nourish him so he could be better at “work”, because that’s what he wanted for himself, and even if you loved him so much, you couldn’t know what was best for him better than himself, right?

It was pretty unusual of you to disturb him like that, and he wasn’t even ready for what was coming.

“No. No.” You shook your head to the left and right, “It’s blood. You fucking stained my expensive carpet with fucking blood.” You accentuated ‘expensive’ and raised your brows to voice your displeasure without even looking at him, which made your husband stop what he was doing to look up to you, blinking.

It’s the first time he lifts his eyes to you since you started this conversation, and an unreadable expression was all over his face.

Your working desk was turned towards him, which means you could still write on your typewriter as you were settling a score with him, you didn’t even lift your gaze to him and this added a dramatic side to the scene.

“So you’re not mad about the blood, you’re mad I stained the carpet.” He said utterly to himself, wrinkles of confusion drawing at the corner of his eyes.

You throw him a quick glance and see that he had dropped his papers on his crossed legs, he was now attentively looking at you.

“My fucking carpet, Tommy.” You highlighted, making him exhaling deeply.

You weren’t usually swearing that much, and the fact you did in this situation made him realize how mad you were.

“I can buy you another one.”

“You offered it to me the day we were coming back from our weekend in Paris.” You said, pouting.

This time you stopped writing and stared at him with puppy eyes.

“Yeah, because a couple days prior to that you made a scene about another carpet, Y/N,” Tommy said outright. He seemed fed-up with your obsession with carpets and came sipping on his drink.

You remember that day as if it was yesterday and couldn’t hold a laugh that escaped your throat, echoing in Tom’s ear that looked back to you.

The face he was making made you laugh even louder, so much he gave you his side look.

Of course, he loved to see his wife smiling and hearing her laugh, but with you, it was always more than just a smile, more than just a laugh, you were pretty dramatic, in everything.

When he would come home late, you used to sit in the armchair of your room and wait for him there, in the dark, lightening up the bedroom as soon as he set foot in it.

You were always lightening up the mood, you brought him something light. He knew that with you nothing was too serious, contrasting with his life where everything was, so no need to say you were succeeding at easing his mind.

He and you first met at the garrison, you forced the barmaid to give you a drink even though you were alone, using the excuse that you finished writing your first book and that it deserved to be celebrated.

When Tom heard that, he was instantly intrigued by you. A woman writing? It wasn’t the type of woman he knew. Of course, there was Lizzie but she was writing secretary things, not a book.

He was impressed, and somehow wanted to know more. That night was the first night since forever that Tommy spent the night with a woman without fucking her.

And a thing leading to another, you grew very fond of each other before the love came, submerging both of you with its violent waves.

Your marriage was still very fresh in your memory, as were your shared memories such as the day Tommy referred to before he took you to Paris for a weekend.

If you were, to be honest with yourself, you would say that the only reason for this weekend together was to make you forget about the time his men wrapped up a body in your carpet.

It was a windy spring day, Tommy was sitting in the garden at the table, his head dropped back to feel the wind fondle his face and embrace his figure.

The area was so calm and peaceful that your voice almost made him fall off the chair.

“Tommy Michael fucking Shelby! I’m fucking going to kill ya!” You were yelling at him, walking towards him in the grass, barefoot.

His eyes opened abruptly and he tilted his head towards you, hands crossed on his stomach.

As soon as his vision got used to the bright light, he frowned and straightened up on the chair, you were dragging a gigantic embroidered white carpet on the grass. And this wasn’t all, you were wearing your almost see-through grey satin nightgown.

“What the fuck, Y/N?” He desperately let out, getting up, ready to reach you.

“You fucking put down your little ass on that chair, Mr Shelby.” You screamed again while breathing heavily from dragging this huge luxurious piece to him.

He exhaled deeply and sat down, passing a hand over his face. He wondered what was on your mind this time.

You ultimately reach the perfect spot so he could perfectly see what you will be complaining about. You dropped the heavy piece of fabric you were holding and pushed strands of hair that were on your face behind your ears.

Sweat beaded on your forehead but you were sure it was worth it.

“What the actual FUCK happened with my carpet, Thomas?” You pointed to the multiple burn marks on your carpet. “Do you know how fucking expensive it was? It came from Italy, mate!” You angrily let out.

Tommy’s jaws dropped when seeing the integrality of the carpet, he knew what happened with this, but he wasn’t sure that telling it to you was a good idea at first. It’s when he saw your scolding look that he cleared his throat.

“Y/N… There was a fucking body in this.”

You opened your mouth in a perfect “o” shape, “There was what, where?” You solemnly repeated, hoping you didn’t hear right.

You didn’t care about Tommy’s business, you’d never showed any reticence toward the way he lived his life. You will never judge him, he was doing what he had to do.

But this… This was too much.

“There was --”

“Ssshh,” You interrupted him, “you fucking crossed the line Thomas, I bought that one with my own money. You owe money to me now! Fucking Blinder Devil.”

“What the fuck are you saying, Y/N? What line?” Tommy frowned even more. He was amused but a bit scared if he was, to be honest, how his oh so tiny wife could spit like that, he’ll never know.

He even thought for a second it was him that woke the monster inside of you by buying you your first carpet on your wedding day.

He coughed at the last part of your swearings. Well, it was true you were a writer so he shouldn’t be surprised you came out with such a nickname for him.

“Don’t forget you owe me carpets still. I ain’t forgotten about my Italian carpet!” You squint your eyes while looking at him, and that’s when you glimpse a smile at the corner of his lips.

You tried your best not to smile, but the vision of a smiling Tommy made your heart flutter more than anything else.

Your warm smile lighted something inside of him, and it was with haste that you got up to join him. Tommy was intently watching each of your movements as if you were mesmerizing him. You came to sit on the armrest of his chair, placing both your arms around his neck, your eyes anchored in his, and stayed there.

It wasn’t the only times he did shitty things to your carpets, and it’ll probably not be the last, but at least you will have plenty of stories to tell your children when you have some.

#Hubby! Tommy Shelby #Husband Tommy Shelby #Tommy Shelby x Reader #Thomas Shelby x Reader #Peaky Blinders #Tommy Shelby

400 notes · View notes

puppypeter · 3 years

Text

✨ All fics are complete! ✨

He Loves Me Cause I’m Cute, He Thinks I’m Pretty Funny | 2588 words 📱

He watches it back one more time after it posts, checking for typos in his subtitles and captions, and has to laugh again.

Steve fucking Rogers? His brain thought he could pull Captain America, literal superhero and America’s favorite sweetheart?

“Hello I’m a 35 year old amputee living in New York and I think that I could get Steve Rogers.”

the one where bucky posts a tiktok and steve is utterly smitten.

Summer Slipped Us Underneath Her Tongue | 10712 words 🧳

Bucky is a tour guide who enjoys sharing the rich history and culture of each city they pass through with a bunch of early-20's college students who just want to know the cheapest place to get drunk.

Except for Steve, who asks Bucky for a personal tour around his hometown.

The rest is, as they say, history.

You Make My Heart Skip A Beet | 3853 words 🧑🏼‍🍳

“I made soda bread.” Steve lets out the 6’2” supersoldier equivalent of a squeak. “Oh, I love soda bread,” he says eagerly, rolling forward on the balls of his feet like he does when he gets excited. “My mom used to make it all the time when I was growing up.” The tips of Barnes’s ears turn red, and he mutters something that sounds suspiciously like, “I know.”

Ollie Meets Bagel | 5517 words 🥯

He was a skater boy, Steve said let's get bagels, boy.

Steve wants to start doing this twenty-first century thing properly. He gets help in the form of skateboarding, skateboarders, bagels, and Sam Wilson.

Taxi | 5113 words 🚕

Bucky Barnes was, he hoped, a good taxi driver.

He's so good, he actually tries to return lost property that ends up left in his car and... well. It has some unexpected consequences involving a National Icon.

Enough said.

Leg Day | 12157 words 🏋️‍♂️

“So talk to him,” Sam says.

“I can’t,” Bucky groans. “I can’t, Sam, I. He just.” He fluffs his hair up and stares at Sam, distraught. “I want him to bench press me.”

“Okay, so it’s serious,” Sam interprets. “Got it."

(Or: The one where Sam is Bucky's long-suffering roommate, Bucky is a hot mess of a millennial, and Hot Steve spends far too much time on the Lat Pull-Down machine.)

Love In Aisle Four | 2127 words 🛍️

When Bucky needs to swing by the supermarket after a long, hard day of work, the last thing he expects is to meet a cute grocery clerk named Steve…

Coming Up Easy | 45515 words ✍🏻

“Listen, I was just thinking,” Steve says, his face open, eyebrows raised in a tentatively hopeful expression. “Why don’t you come stay at my place for a while? I’ve got an office that I barely use, and a change of scenery might do you good, right? Help you beat that writer’s block?” With a crooked smile, he adds, “I promise I’m not a serial killer.”

While Bucky would normally crack a joke about how that’s exactly what a serial killer would say, right now, all he can do is blink at Steve in surprise, heart tripping over itself in his chest. Steve wants him to come and stay at his place. In Massachusetts. Just the two of them.

"Oh," Bucky croaks. "I- Wow."

“I mean, no pressure,” Steve says hastily. “Totally fine if you don’t wanna. I just thought I’d offer, in case it might help, y’know?”

“Yeah.” Bucky ignores the little voice in his head that sounds an awful lot Nat and Becca, telling him he’s setting himself up for heartbreak. “I mean, if you’re sure, that would be amazing.”

Anywhere The Wind Blows | 8845 words 👨‍🚒🎖️

After a catastrophic fire that shakes him to his core, Steve Rogers quits his job as a Brooklyn firefighter and relocates to a cabin in the remote Canadian wilderness, wanting quiet and solitude and to maybe never have to speak to another human being ever again. He gets his wish, more or less, until a recently injured Bucky Barnes is discharged from the Army and rents the cabin next door.

The Safer Course | 7918 words | Part 1 of Won’t You Be My Neighbor 🏡

When Steve moves to the suburbs in 2033, he intends to retire from superhero life.

He does not intend to fall in love with his pain-in-the-ass neighbor.

Every Year I Have You | 7064 words | Part 2 of Won’t You Be My Neighbor 🏡

Steve set the bar pretty high, as birthday presents go.

Bucky is determined to outdo him when July 4th comes around.

Beneath The Mistletoe | 21203 words 🎄

Bucky had a bet with his sister that if he didn’t have a boyfriend to bring home for Christmas by the time he was 25, he had to give her $200 and go blonde for a year. But now he's 25, it’s nearing December, and not only is Bucky as single as ever, but he’s also running low on cash. He doesn’t exactly want to bleach his hair, either.

At least Steve is willing to upgrade their relationship from best friends to fake boyfriends.

The Settler | 52203 words 🍞

“What do you want to do?”

Steve pauses and looks at them.

What he wants is to stay with them. He doesn't have any family left, they all died before he even joined the war and became... this. Captain America turned whatever he is now. But Natasha and Sam have become his family over the years. Not just because they're on the run together, fugitives and vigilantes, but way before that too.

He doesn't want to leave that.

But he knows that, realistically, he can't stay with them and they can't stay with him.

So he looks at them with a smile and lies. “I don't know.”

OR; In which Steve retires and finally finds a place to call home.

You Can’t Put Your Arms Around A Memory | 1148 words 🐈

"Alright, Bucky," Steve slows his steps, watches his neighbour stop at the bottom of the next flight of stairs. There's a canvas bag in his hand that Steve didn't notice earlier, cream coloured with the figure of a sleeping, black cat painted on it. "Have a good day."

He thinks Bucky's cheeks pink up a bit right then and there, but Steve can't tell. He's too distracted by his pounding, foolish heart, by the way Bucky smiles bashfully, and ducks his head. The way he seems like he wants to stay.

To Believe In Tomorrow | 3959 words 👨🏻‍🌾

Bucky's mornings at the community garden get a little more interesting when the new guy shows up.

Maybe This Christmas | 24873 words | Part 1 of Maybe ❄️

Bucky’s not going home for Christmas. But it’s fine. He’s spending Christmas alone in his apartment, but it’s cool. He’s not feeling up to seeing his family after his accident anyway, plus he has to work. He’s totally fine with it. But then he runs into Steve, literally, and suddenly his Christmas isn’t looking so empty after all.

-----

Hurrying was a bad idea. Bucky’s foot hits a patch of ice and slides out from under him in what would have been a comical cartoon banana-peel-like trip, if it wasn’t happening to him, and he braces himself to hit the ground. This is going to hurt.

“Fuck,” Bucky screeches, but as he lands on his back, it’s not the cold hard concrete he expected, but a solid mass beneath him. Oh god, Bucky thinks as he realises he smacked into the person behind him and took them down with him.

Maybe This Year (Will Be Better Than Last) | 133868 words | Part 2 of Maybe ❄️

Last year, Bucky Barnes met Steve Rogers. Well actually, he slipped and fell on him. What followed was the best Christmas either of them had ever had. But what happens when Christmas is over and life returns to normal? What happens after the Christmas miracle?

-----

Bucky should have known. He did know. When things seem too good to be true, they usually are. And Steve is the best thing that has happened to him in a long time, possibly ever, so of course it couldn’t last.

Maybe This Time (I Hope I Get The Chance To Say Goodbye) | 34561 words | Part 3 of Maybe ❄️

Steve and Bucky Barnes are happily married. They've made it through some hard times and come out stronger and happier, together. Then Steve gets called on to come out of retirement for the most important mission of his life and everything changes. Everything.

-----

“Have yourself a merry little Christmas…” Steve starts singing along softly, and Bucky chuckles, before leaning his head onto Steve’s shoulder, always happy when he’s in Steve’s arms.

“From now on, our troubles will be miles away…” Bucky joins in.

Dancing round their living room, just as in love as ever, their troubles seem light-years away, if not non-existent.

Sadly, they’re closer than they think.

The Unexpected Gift | 9504 words | Part 1 of When Winter Comes 🐕

Steve Rogers is fine.

After ending a long-term relationship with Sam Wilson, Steve moves back to New York. He's tired and lonely but depressed? No. At least, that's what he thinks.

From the window of his apartment, he watches a dark-haired man and his service dog sitting in the park, wondering what his story is.

The Winter Storm | 2218 words | Part 2 of When Winter Comes 🐕

"If I could give you one thing in life, I would give you the ability you see yourself through my eyes, only then would you realize how special you are to me."

After Bucky and Steve confessed their feelings for each other, life has its own twisted way to challenge the most profound love.

One January Night | 4213 words | Part 3 of When Winter Comes 🐕

Before going back to work, Steve Rogers still has things to learn: 1- Depression is a bitch and the battle against it isn't an easy one. 2- Dating a person with disabilities comes with its share of challenges.

Bucky Barnes Has His Shit Together (And Other Lies He Tells Himself) | 14159 words 🔒

You’d think a guy who owns one of the most successful bakeries in Brooklyn, has a million-dollar smile and that antiquated good ol’ boy charm, blond hair and blue eyes and biceps for days, would know what’s what.

But don’t let that fool you: Steve Rogers is a mess.

Obvious | 917 words ☕

"Oh, I have a prompt! So, it makes me laugh how painfully obvious Steve and Bucky's feelings are to everyone when they're in that pining, slowburn, does-he-doesn't-he phase. But imagine Steve and Bucky working in a coffee shop together and constantly bickering, nudging and playfully flirting with each other. And all the employees and patrons are so invested in their relationship and just want them to kiss already but no one realizes that Steve and Bucky have been married since they got out of HS."

#stucky #steve rogers/bucky barnes #bucky barnes/steve rogers #stucky fics #stucky fic #stucky fic rec #stucky fic recs #stucky fics rec #stucky fics recs #stucky fan fiction #stucky fiction #stucky ao3 #stucky complete #stucky au #adorable stucky fics

380 notes · View notes

drabbles-mc · 3 years

Text

Tempting Offer

EZ Reyes x OFC (Aanya Reyes)

Request by @garbinge: Ok and 43 with whoever your heart desires as well cause I’m a sucker for a good ol true love trope (from This List)

Warnings: so much fluff

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: I’m still not out of my writing slump. Still got a lot going on. But Anj sent me this request literal months ago and it’s been living in my brain ever since. Plus, I haven’t updated Remind Me in a hot minute so I figured doing a fluffy little prequel/spinoff would be a nice change of pace for a story that is so heavy with angst haha. I have a future chapter planned that actually references what happens in this story, so I’m excited to be able to share the real context for it all with you guys. Hope you enjoy! xo

EZ Reyes/Remind Me Taglist: @ly--canthrope @noz4a2 @queenbeered @sincerelyasomebody @sadeyesgf @thesandbeneathmytoes @appropriate-writers-name @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @kelpies-shed @louisianalady @gemini0410 @paintballkid711 @chibsytelford @yourwonkywriter @sesamepancakes @mayans-sauce @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @plentyoffandoms @georgiaaintnopeach @twistnet @themoonandthewicked @bucky-iss-bae @enjoy-the-destruction @encounterthepast @everyhowlmarksthedead @rosieposie0624 @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo @mijop @xladymacbethx @blessedboo @holl2712 @lakamaa12 @masterlistforimagines @kkim120 @toni9 @shadow-of-wonder @crowfootwrites @redpoodlern @punkgoddess-98 @black-repunzel99 @lexondeck @mrsstevenbuchananstark @berniesilvas @lovebishoplosamiguelgalindo @amorestevens @angelreyesisdaddy04 @samcrobae @langiinspirations @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @lightblindingme

She knew who was at the door before she’d even heard the knock. She laughed as she made her way through her apartment, trying to slide her earring into place as she did. Pausing in front of her door, she took a moment to take a deep breath and get herself mentally prepared. It wasn’t their first date, but she still had the jitters as though it was.

Undoing the chain on the apartment door, she pulled it open. EZ was standing on the other side, hands hooked onto his belt since he hadn’t worn his kutte this time. Without a second thought his eyes scanned her over, a smile immediately taking over his features the longer that he looked at her.

“You look beautiful,” he nodded.

She bit down on her lip for a moment, her face heating up at the compliment, “Thank you,” stepping back, she waved for him to come in, “You can come in, I just gotta grab my shoes and purse and I’ll be good to go.”

“Take your time,” he lingered close to the door, glancing around her apartment.

It was the first time he’d ever stepped inside. He’d picked her up and dropped her off the last few times they went out, but he never went past the threshold of her place. She didn’t necessarily offer, and he wasn’t going to push it if she wasn’t ready or comfortable. However, as he stood there and looked around her living room and into what he could see of the kitchen, it seemed exactly like the kind of place she would live. It also made him very nervous to ever have her over at his trailer. Her apartment felt so fresh, all warm colors and walls covered with bookshelves. The one big set of windows that she had, had a bench with a few plants on it that were coming along well for being in a small apartment.

“Alright,” she was pulling the back of her shoe over her heel as she half walked, half hopped towards him. Standing upright as she landed in front of him, she flashed him a smile, “I’m ready.”

“You sure?” he chuckled.

“Positive,” she motioned for him to open the door, both of them walking through before she turned to lock it behind them. As she followed him, tucking her keys into her purse, she asked, “So do I get to know where we’re going tonight? Or is it a big surprise?”

He smiled at her as they walked down the flight of stairs to the ground floor of her apartment building, “It’s not a big secret.”

“Are we taking the bike?”

He shook his head, “It’s within walking distance.”

“Ooo,” she smiled over at him, “now you’ve got my attention.”

As the two of them walked along the sidewalk, EZ listened with genuine interest as Aanya recounted her day to him. He reveled in her stories of new books that she’d gotten into, and strange customers that she’d encountered during her day. Although if EZ was being honest with himself, he would have sat there and listened to her read every page of the phone book and he still would’ve kept his interest. She had more love in her words than most people had in their entire bodies, and he was captivated.

He stopped outside the door to a small diner, smiling over at Aanya before pulling the door open for her, “Right this way.”

Her face lit up, “I haven’t been here yet!” she walked through the door and turned around to face him, “I always meant to come here and just never made the time.”

EZ nodded as the two of them walked and found a booth to sit in, “My pops is really good friends with the woman who owns the place—she’s been buying from him for years.”

“You know,” Aanya casually flipped through the menu, “I’ve been to your father’s shop plenty of times and I’ve never seen you there.”

The statement got him to look up from the menu, “You’ve been to the shop?”

She laughed, looking over at him, “Of course. Only butcher in town, Ezekiel.”

“He’s never mentioned that he sees you.”

“Something tells me your father isn’t one for gossip,” she laughed for a moment before she paused, “You talked to him about me?” her lips curled into a smile.

“Well,” he drummed his fingers on the tabletop as he bit back a shy smile, “yea. Of course.”

They’d long since finished their dinner, but the two of them were perfectly content to just sit at the table and talk. The waitress knew EZ well enough and she very casually brought over coffee for each of them when she saw how good of a time the two of them were having. It’d been a long time since she saw EZ bring anyone around, let along someone who had him smiling the way that he was.

“I just can’t believe,” Aanya laughed between sips of her coffee, “that I’ve already met your brother. I should’ve known! I should’ve known that was him.”

“Why would you have known?” EZ chuckled.

“Because he was at your father’s shop! And he had on, you know the,” she gestured vaguely to her shoulders and chest, “the vest.”

EZ smiled, “The kutte?”

“Yes!” she pointed at him and nodded, “The kutte.”

“I feel like maybe I should mention that not everyone in a Mayans kutte is a Reyes brother. Angel just so happens to be both.”

She chuckled, nodding, “I figured that much.”

“I think Pop would lose his mind if there were any more of us,” he smiled.

Aanya laughed, “I think Felipe is usually on the brink of losing his mind anyway.”

“Raising Angel will do that to you,” he replied without missing a beat, both of them laughing.

“I’m sure you weren’t a cakewalk either, Ezekiel.”

“Well what makes you say that?” he leaned back in the booth, feigning offense before giving in and laughing.

Shaking her head and taking a moment to finish her coffee, she replied, “Your very sweet and handsome smile doesn’t fool me, EZ. I’m sure you’re just as much of a troublemaker as your brother.”

“You think I’m handsome?” he smirked.

Laughing, she nodded, “Of course I do.”

The two of them walked back to Aanya’s apartment. Along the way she’d casually linked her arm with his, leaning against his side as they walked. EZ tried not to get too lost in the sensation of it, trying to focus on what she was saying to him. He was trying to focus but there was something so comfortable, so right, about the feeling of her leaning into him the way that she was.

They made their way up the stairs, and EZ leaned against the wall next to her door as he watched her slip the key into the lock. The smile on his face was practically a permanent feature whenever he was with her, and it had been a long time since someone made him feel that way.

“I had a really good time tonight, Ezekiel,” Aanya leaned against her doorframe with a smile.

He adored the way his name sounded coming from her. With a slight nod, he replied, “Me too.”

“I’ll give you a call tomorrow when I’m done with work?”

“Yea, yea that works,” he reached forward and gently slid his hand into hers, “Let me know if any of the new deliveries look any good.”

“I always think they look good,” she chuckled, “If you want a real critic’s opinion, you should come in and talk to Laura. It’s…it’s hard for me to find a book I don’t like.”

“If you want, I can bring you some pretty terrible books.”

Rolling her eyes, she laughed, “Tempting offer, but I’ll pass.”

“Alright, but you’re missing out.”

“I guess I’ll have to live the rest of my life knowing that,” she laughed, shaking her head. Looking up and meeting his gaze, her smile softened, “Thank you for tonight. Get home safe, okay?”

“Always do,” he smiled before lifting her hand up and pressing a light kiss to her knuckles, “Talk to you tomorrow.”

Standing up onto her toes, she placed a brief kiss on his cheek, “Goodnight, Ezekiel.”

“Goodnight,” he smiled as she walked through the door and closed it behind her. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself not to linger as he made his way back down the stairs, replaying the night over in his head with a smile.

The next morning, both EZ and Angel had shown up to the carnicería first thing to help Felipe with a large delivery. Angel had immediately gotten on his little brother’s case when he saw what a good mood he was in. EZ had always been the biggest morning person out of the three men, but even with that being true he still seemed peppier than usual. After a lot of questioning from Angel as they carried in one box after another, he caved and told them about his date from the night before.

Angel shook his head, wiping sweat from his brow, “No way. No way she’s real, bro. I just don’t buy it.”

“What do you mean you don’t buy it?” EZ laughed and shook his head, “She literally stops here all the time. She’s seen you here!” he gestured to the shop in its entirety.

“Really?” Angel seem perplexed, “She talk to me before?”

“I’m assuming not if you don’t remember.”

“Not everyone’s got a memory like yours, Boy Scout.”

“Nah, but you’d remember her.”

Angel rolled his eyes, mocking his brother, “You’d remember her. Jesus, EZ. Two dates with this girl and you’re already in love with her?”

“Four dates.”

“But who’s counting?” Angel smirked, “Look, I’m very happy for you and your very real girlfriend.”

EZ gave his brother a shove, but before it could descend into an all-out wrestling match, Felipe started ushering them both towards the door, “Go finish this somewhere that I don’t need to pay for everything you break.”

“Love you too, Pop,” Angel laughed as he let his father push them both out the door, the sign on it still saying that the shop was closed.

Despite the fact that they didn’t get to talk for their whole ride over to the clubhouse, as soon as they parked their bikes Angel was right back to giving EZ grief for the girlfriend he was convinced didn’t exist. EZ shook his head and laughed, taking the jokes and low-level verbal abuse in stride the way he always did. He knew that arguing past a certain point just made it all that much more fun for Angel.

By the time the afternoon rolled around, Angel had moved on from making fun of EZ and has started going in on Coco and Gilly. EZ couldn’t say that he was upset about his brother’s shift in attention. He did, however, find himself frequently checking his phone to see if she’d texted or called. It wasn’t often that she messaged him while she was working, but it didn’t hurt to check.

He was just about to slide the phone back into the pocket of his kutte when it started to vibrate. Glancing down at the screen, he smiled when he saw Aanya’s name lighting up the screen, “Hey.”

“Hey!” her voice was bright, happy, on the other end of the line, “I’m just getting ready to leave—they got someone else in to close up tonight.”

“Oh, nice. I’m, um, I’m still at the scrapyard,” his free hand gripped the edge of his kutte.

“That’s fine, I figured. I thought of you earlier, though, when I was going through the new shipment of books that came in.”

“Did you?” he scuffed the toe of his boot against the dirt.

“I did. There’s one in here that I think you’ll really like. Can I swing by and drop it off?”

“You don’t gotta drive all the way out here. I can swing by your place if you want.”

“It’s fine, really. Besides, I have all this extra time on my hands now,” she laughed.

“Alright,” he didn’t have it in him to tell her no, “If you don’t see me, the guy Chucky who works the front office can come and get me.”

“Perfect. Alright, I’ll see you in a little bit.”

He knew that telling Angel that she was coming was only going to make the situation worse. If there was no time for him to prepare comments beforehand, there was the possibility that EZ could just do a normal introduction. It helped that everyone was relatively busy with club business.

EZ was walking back down the steps of the clubhouse, about to head towards the front office when he saw Aanya walking next to Chucky. The two of them were talking and EZ couldn’t help but to take on her contagious smile. He couldn’t hear what the two of them were saying but Aanya looked thoroughly amused, and knowing Chucky he had to assume it was something good. When she locked eyes with him across the yard, EZ could see her thanking Chucky before turning and heading in his direction. EZ immediately spotted the book hanging from her hand as she walked up to him.

“He seems so fun,” she nodded back over her shoulder in Chucky’s direction.

“Yea,” EZ laughed, “he’s somethin’ alright.”

EZ was too busy looking at the woman in front of him to see that Angel had seen her come onto the yard, watching intently as she walked over to his brother. Angel saw as the woman laughed at something his brother said, and for a second he really couldn’t believe that EZ had been being honest with them this whole time. Angel really thought that his little brother had just been exaggerating to get him and the rest of the club off his back.

“Looks like you’ve been working hard,” Aanya smiled as she reached up, cupping one side of his face in her hand as she thumbed a streak of dirt off his cheek with her thumb.

He felt like his skin was on fire at the contact, but he tried not to let it show, “Just trying to stay busy.”

“That makes two of us,” she laughed, “I hope you don’t mind me just popping up like this. I don’t want to intrude on everything you’ve got here.”

“You’re not intruding. If anything, you’re a very welcome distraction,” he chuckled.

“At least I’m welcome,” she smiled.

“Always,” he couldn’t stop looking at her.

The two of them stood there for a few moments before Aanya cleared her throat, remembering why she’d shown up at the scrapyard in the first place. She held the book close to her chest for a moment before handing it over to EZ.

“Just came in today, so I haven’t read it. But I read the first chapter or so while it was slow this afternoon and it seemed like something you’d enjoy.”

“I’ll be sure to write up a full report when I’m done with it,” he smiled.

“Lucky for you, I grade papers as generously as I review books,” she laughed, resting her hand against his chest. Her fingertips traced along the stitching of the leather covering his torso. Looking at his prospect patch for a moment, she looked back up at him, “Kutte.”

He laughed, nodding, “You got it.”

“It’s my one new piece of information for the week.”

“That and all the first chapters of books you’re going to be reading for the rest of the week,” he gave her a knowing look.

“Like you wouldn’t do the same thing if you worked there,” she lightly patted his chest.

“Maybe,” he rested the hand that wasn’t holding the book over hers, completely enveloping it.

“I don’t know how late you need to be here tonight, but if you want to come over later, you can.”

He raised his eyebrows, surprised by the invitation, “Yea?”

She nodded, “Yea. If you have plans with your brother or something I totally understand. Just thought I’d mention it.”

“I’ll be there,” he didn’t have plans, but even if he did he would’ve dropped everything for her, “I’ll give you a call when I leave here in case you need anything.”

“Sounds good!” she felt her heart beating a little faster in her chest, “Alright. I’ll let you get back to work. I’ll see you tonight?”

He nodded, “See you tonight.”

He was expecting her to flash him a smile and a wink before turning and walking away. But, much to his surprise, she gently cupped both sides of his face in her hands and pulled him down into a kiss. It took him a moment to really register what was going on, but once he did, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer. He could feel the way she smiled into their kiss and in that moment, he realized that there was nothing else in the world that he’d rather do. He’d drop damn near any and everything to be able to kiss her like that all the time.

She pulled away, hands still resting on the sides of his face. She smiled as she took in the slightly dazed look on his face. Tracing her thumbs along his cheeks, she gave him a soft peck on the lips, “Bye,” she let out a quiet laugh.

It was hard to get himself to force out the one-syllable word as he stared at her. He’d never been good at taking things slow, and as he stood there looking at her, seeing the way that she was practically glowing, he knew that he was very quickly falling in love with her. He wished he knew how to articulate the way that she made him feel, but instead he settled for getting his thoughts enough to say goodbye to her until he saw her again later.

He’d offered to walk her back to her car but she waved him off, insisting that she was fine and if nothing else Chucky would gladly escort her, which EZ knew was true. He watched her as she sauntered back towards her car and he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. His fingers curled tighter around the book in his hands, pressing it against his chest.

The feeling of his phone vibrating in his pocket snapped him out of his daze. He reached into his kutte and pulled it out, sighing when he saw that Angel had sent a picture to the group chat with all the guys. Not knowing what to expect, he opened the message and saw a picture of himself and Aanya, one hand on his cheek while the other held the book. The next message was a text from Angel, one that made EZ shake his head, “Guess boy scout wasn’t lying after all. She’s real”

Before EZ could try to respond and come to his own defense, Gilly sent a message to the chat, “Still don’t buy it. I wasn’t there. Didn’t happen”

Knowing that it was just going to descend further into chaos, EZ decided he might as well play into it, “Alright. Guess you won’t care if I leave early to go and see my not real girlfriend then. See you guys tomorrow”

Angel called out to him from across the yard when he read the message, “Hey, hey. I don’t think I said all that!” Angel walked over to his brother, laughing the entire time, “Nah, nice to see she’s a real person.”

“Yea, that’s one of my favorite things about her,” EZ chuckled and shook his head, tucking the new book close to his chest.

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #ez reyes #ezekiel reyes #ez reyes imagine #ez reyes fanfic #ez reyes x oc #ezekiel reyes imagine #ezekiel reyes fanfic #ezekiel reyes x oc #oc aanya reyes #oc aanya #my writing #remind me #drabblesmc #fanfiction

123 notes · View notes

green-socks · 3 years

Text

Endless Nights

Pairing: Benny Miller x gn!reader (no descriptions or pronouns)

Summary: You and Benny can't seem to get enough of each other's company. Could tonight be the night you find the courage to do something about that crush?

Words: 2,101

Warnings: Nudity but not the sexual kind, food/eating. Almost zero editing and a tired writer.

Notes: I don't always participate in Writer Wednesday, but when I do I take one look at the picture, get an idea and then go completely off the rails. Sorry. So the pic doesn't really have a lot to do with the rest of the fic but I hope that's okay. For this week's @autumnleaves1991-blog Writer Wednesday, thanks for organizing it every week!

I had the idea for midnight shopping at the supermarket with Benny and then realized I didn't want the night to end there... So it didn't. I actually like this piece, even if it probably suffered a lot from my fast writing and non-existent editing. Reader is mentioned having shorter legs than Benny but other than that I think there are no descriptions or pronouns used of reader, lmk if I'm wrong.

MASTERLIST

You and Benny have been driving around aimlessly for a couple of hours already, taking turns in picking the music, and talking about this and that while sometimes falling into a companionable silence. It still amazes you how easy and comfortable everything is with him. You have never felt like this with a crush before, used to the feeling of always obsessing over what you felt like you could and couldn’t say or do, or spending a lot of time and energy into trying to figure out what the other thought.

No, with Benny you don’t have to pretend anything or force yourself to keep the conversation running in fear of those horrid awkward silences, because both of you know that you can talk for hours on end when the mood strikes. You met through mutual friends only a few weeks ago, but the connection was clearly there. As was the obvious mutual attraction.

Strictly speaking, though, you and Benny are just friends. Nothing has ever really happened to indicate otherwise in any case. But friends don’t usually try this hard to find any excuse just to hang out, nor do you stay up late every night talking to your other friends. And when you hang out in a group you always seem to gravitate towards one another. What’s more, somehow it always seems to be just the two of you left at the end of the night, often not even noticing the others leave.

Your interactions always border on the line of obvious flirting with your touches and already formed inside jokes, but neither of you ever dare do anything that couldn’t be brushed off as innocent behavior between friends. You guess you’re both just kind of scared to take the leap - you have been burned before, and so has he.

It’s not that you doubt your own feelings for Benny, or indeed his feelings for you. Even you have to admit that he does seem pretty interested in you, but you still wave away your friends’ squeals of “he’s totally in love with you!”, mainly not wanting to get your hopes up too much.

Because a small part of you still finds it a little hard to believe; someone so handsome and funny and kind wanting to be with you? What if he likes you, but just not as much as you like him? What if you were just a second choice for someone you really like until something better comes along - again? That scares you, both of you.

Tonight has been like many other nights lately; you had been to the movies with some of your friends, but after the movie ended you had been grasping at straws to come up with a way to continue the night so they (Benny) wouldn’t go home just yet. Benny had helpfully suggested just driving around and seeing if any ideas came to mind.

Santiago in turn had rolled his eyes at you two knowingly (making both you and Benny fluster and try to fake complete nonchalance) before saying good night and leaving with the others, who apparently didn’t feel the compulsive need to continue spending time together.

--------

The sun has gone down already but you two are still enjoying each other’s company too much to go home yet.

You end up in the 24/7 supermarket parking lot, craving a midnight snack. You are reminded of your teenage years, when you used to hang around different parking lots, popping into the store to buy a soda or a candy bar, spending all day outside with friends.

The only other customers doing their midnight shopping are tired people just off their shifts or young people staying up late just for the hell of it, much like you and Benny are, in fact. You wander around the huge store together, pointing out different products you’d like to try and reviewing stuff one of you already has tried.

Before long you realize that you have already spent almost forty minutes idly wandering around the supermarket, collecting new soda or chip flavors to test. Neither of you thought to grab a basket at the entrance, so your arms are starting to get a bit full.

“Benny, do you think this might be enough?” you ask while struggling to maintain your hold on the different bags of chips.

Benny looks back at you from where he is pondering over whether to get some ice cream. “Huh, I guess. I do still wanna get a sandwich, though!” he exclaims and promptly takes off in the direction of the deli counter where they sell sandwiches and salads left over from the day.

You try to keep up with his long strides, certain that you must look a bit comical half-running after a man with your hands full of treats. Oh, well. Benny often complains about how much focus it requires of him to “modify his steps” to fit your much shorter legs, and he always forgets about it when he gets excited.

When you catch up with him, he has already picked a sandwich for himself and one for you. “I got you salmon, that’s your favorite, right?”

“Yeah, thanks!” you say a little breathlessly after your speed-walk, taken that he remembers.

As you finally get to the cash register and start loading your stuff in your bag you see Benny sneak one more candy bar among the rest of your purchases. For someone in such good physical shape he sure does like his candy.

“Where to next?” Benny inquires as you get back to the car.

“Hmm, how about this one waterfront type swimming spot? It’s pretty secluded, has a pier, and there’s a nice view to the sea. I sometimes like to sit there on the cliffs to watch the sun go down,” you suggest, and offer him directions to the place.

It’s a short drive and you show Benny where to park his car. Even though it’s somewhere around 1 a.m. and the sun went down hours ago, the night is still light enough that you can easily see where you’re going and it doesn’t feel like you’re just sitting in the dark.

You settle down on the small pier with your sandwiches and sodas and chips and munch away happily.

Benny hands you the candy bar you saw him grab earlier at the cash register “for dessert”. It has a cheesy text on the packaging about giving this to someone special. He grins and shrugs, “I know you love these”.

It’s such a simple gesture but you can’t help feeling really flattered and even more smitten with him than you already were. You don’t read too much into the text on the packaging, but even the fact that he would buy you a candy bar he knows you love - just because - warms your heart.

(What you don’t know is that the candy bars have lots of different texts to choose from, and that Benny specifically picked “give this to someone special” instead of “give this to a friend”. There was also “give this to someone you love”, but Benny worried that might scare you off.)

--------

After you’re both done with snacking you try to think of what to do next, still reluctant to pronounce this night to be over, you get an idea.

“You know what I would really like to do right now?” you ask Benny, looking out over the water that looks so tempting. “Go swim,” you announce, turning to look at him.

“You don’t have a swimsuit with you, do you?” Benny asks, turning to look at you too.

“No… But there’s no one here,” you point out with your eyebrows raised in challenge.

Benny looks at you for a few beats with a blank expression on his face, before shrugging “Alright,” and throwing off his hoodie and t-shirt, jeans following next. “What are you waiting for?” he shouts over his shoulder as he jumps from the pier into the water.

You’re left sitting there with your mouth open, blinking rapidly as you try to catch up with the fast turn of events. Shaking your head, you stand up and shrug off your clothes before quickly running after Benny and getting into the refreshing water.

The night is still warm, and the water feels wonderful. You swim to catch up with Benny.

“You know, it’s pretty dark here but I’ve basically seen you naked now,” he remarks, waggling his eyebrows, and you snort with laughter.

“Benny, you’re not allowed to make me laugh in the water or I’ll drown,” you try to say sternly.

“Oh sweetheart, I wouldn’t let you drown,” he answers in a surprisingly serious voice.

Suddenly the energy between you is full of.. something. Something new and buzzing, sort of scary but also exciting. Something you can’t quite explain. You’re swimming around each other, looking at each other intently, but not daring to say anything that would break the moment and burst the bubble.

Someone else does that for you.

A couple of teenage girls, you’d guess around 18 years old, stumble on to the pier and immediately notice you two in the water. The other girl lets out a shriek and tightens her hold on the towel around her, and before you can even try to reassure them that everything is fine, they run off giggling and shrieking some more. Evidently, they had had the same idea for a nighttime swim but found the place already occupied.

“Yeahhhh, maybe we should put some clothes on before someone calls the police,” Benny suggests dryly.

You two climb out of the water giggling and grinning broadly. You don’t have any towels with you since you didn’t exactly plan this impromptu skinny-dipping session, but Benny gives you his hoodie to help keep you warm.

Sitting back down next to Benny you’re even closer together now than earlier, ever so slowly inching closer and closer to each other. Both of you think you could pass it off as huddling for warmth if the other were to question it, but somehow you know that won’t be an issue.

Soon enough you’re snuggling together on the waterfront overlooking the sea. You stay quietly like that for some time, maybe fifteen minutes, maybe more. It’s hard to tell when the world is so still and quiet around you.

Suddenly you think that this is it, this is the moment you’ve been waiting for. In all honesty you sort of enjoy the pining stage of new relationships, but right now you feel like you might burst if you keep these feelings inside you any longer.

You turn and burrow your head into the crook of his neck and decide that you will have to take the leap now. You start pressing gentle kisses on his neck and hear Benny’s breath hitch at the first contact of your lips on his skin. He goes still as a statue, but you can feel more than hear his unsteady breathing at your actions. You’re practically vibrating with nervous excitement as you work your way up to his jaw and towards his lips.

Taking one final deep breath you close your eyes, not daring to look at Benny in the eye right now, as you bring your lips to meet his.

The kiss is sweet and unhurried, and yet your head is swimming and your whole body is buzzing with it as you melt into each other. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt, which just proves that everything really is different - better - with Benny. You pull away when you find yourself quickly out of breath just from feeling so much.

You finally dare to open your eyes to find Benny gazing at you with a dazed expression that surely mirrors your own and you slowly beam at each other, not feeling the need for words just now. Maybe you couldn’t even find them if you tried.

You settle back against his chest and the two of you stay like that for the rest of the night, sometimes spending long moments just kissing each other, sometimes talking quietly, sometimes just enjoying each other’s presence.

--------

Around five in the morning, when the sun is already getting up, you finally start to really feel the need for sleep. But this time it doesn’t feel wrong to leave and go home, since you’ll be going home together.

Later that day you wake up to a good morning, sweetheart in Benny’s arms where you fell asleep on his couch, tired but happier than you’ve ever felt in your life.

#benny miller fanfiction #benny miller x reader #benny miller x gn!reader #benny miller x you #triple frontier fanfiction #i still don't know what i'm doing #i accidentally wrote something #writer wednesday #garrett hedlund fanfiction

151 notes · View notes