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hollybell51 · 1 year

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Last night on Earth

^don't mind me going absolutely feral over this gif

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Cas x AFAB!fem!Reader

Supernatural (2005), s05e03 "free to be you and me"

Word count: 6.4K

Summary: following the hooker failure, you feel that sitting alone in a shitty abandoned house is not the best way to spend one's last night on Earth. Cas seems to agree with you.

Content: smut! Yay! First kisses, first time, making out, handjobs, hickeys, penetrative sex, safe sex (yay!), cowgirl, mutual masturbation, fingering, gags? if you squint? maybe? like a hand over the mouth. Discussions of sex work and sex workers (I'm not commenting on anything, it's just there as dialogue due to the nature of the episode, and all dialogue/internal monologue regarding the topic is purely for the furtherment of the plot). Talking during sex, Cas is loud. Sex on a couch, spooning, almost-love-confessions ("like-confessions"). Very light comment on body image, some very vague descriptions of scars (reader is a hunter). Cas is just Cas and I love him for it. He's also a virgin. Dean's probably a warning but I adore him.

Notes: Heyyyy how's it going? One day into my holidays and I churn out this bad boy. Couldn't get the idea out of my head, and hey, I'm a sucker for virgin angels. This show is rapidly taking over my whole life lmao.

It's also been a while so I just thought I'd remind people of the taglist form, and the existence of my AO3 (if you wanna read my stuff there for whatever reason). Anyways enjoy, stay safe out there xx

“That was quick,” you called as the door creaked open, Dean’s low chuckle echoing through the hallway. You closed the book you’d been reading – a shitty paperback you’d picked out of a bargain bin – and watched as the other hunter dropped his jacket onto a rusted dining chair. You’d expected them to be gone for a few hours, hence your foray into the realms of “downtime”, but it had barely been one since they’d left, Dean throwing an obscenely enthusiastic wink your way as he shoved an apprehensive looking Cas out to enjoy his last night on Earth.

“We had to wrap it up pretty fast.” Dean glanced over his shoulder at Cas, laughter still clinging to his face. You hadn’t seen him look that happy in ages, not for this long. Well, that was something at least.

You’d had your doubts about the whole idea from the moment Dean had mentioned it. Sure, sex was sex. It was something that could be pretty darn nice and that you were glad for in your life, but you weren’t sure if Dean fully grasped that it was never the same with a hooker. It would never feel as good, it would never be meaningful, it would be a service purchased from a provider. A business transaction. That wasn’t any way to experience it for the first time, in your opinion.

“Good time not a long time, then?” you asked mildly.

“Would you say that, Cas?”

The angel stiffened, hands shoved into the pockets of his trench coat.

You wrinkled your nose, suddenly wondering if you should feel bad. “Bad time?”

Dean snorted. “I’m turning in. You tell (Y/N) about it, she’ll give you a pat on the back and tell you it’s alright. And don’t look so… grief stricken.”

“G’night,” you waved to his retreating back, then turned back to Cas. “Really bad time?”

He really did look grief stricken, standing stock still in the dimness. Even his hair looked droopier than usual, and you almost got out of your seat just to push it off his face. You settled for putting your book down and leaning forward.

“She ran away,” he said after a moment. “I think I scared her.”

“Geez,” you frowned. “How’d you scare a hooker?”

He shrugged. “I told her it wasn’t her fault that her father Gene ran off.” Then, as if it explained everything; “He hated his job at the post office.”

You laughed, but stopped quickly. “Oh, Cas. You know the whole–”

“The whole industry is run on absent fathers, I know.” He sighed. “Dean found it hilarious.”

This time, you did get up, crossing the room to pat his shoulder. You knew Dean wouldn’t have meant anything by it, wouldn’t have been laughing at Cas. Still, a pang of what was almost pity shot through you. It wasn’t about the sex, not really, as much as Dean played that aspect up. It was more all the coulds that never would. Cas wasn’t human, as much as he could pass it off (mostly), but there were so many things that he wasn’t going to get to try now. You just didn’t understand how he could so casually volunteer to die at the drop of a hat. It was either incredibly selfless, or incredibly selfish. Or maybe just stupid.

But no, Cas wasn’t stupid. He was razor sharp, a soldier of God, even if you poked fun at him when he didn’t understand your and Dean’s pop-culture reference infused slang. It had only been the last time you’d seen him that you’d vowed to make him sit through all the Star Wars movies, something you hadn’t realised until afterwards had sounded a lot like a “movie and chill” proposal. Luckily, he wouldn’t have picked up on that. Just like he wouldn’t have picked up – like Dean had – the moments where you caught yourself watching him, or the smiles that were just too damned determined to break out on your face when he showed up – either in the real world or in your mind. And thank the heavens nobody but you noticed the tiny flurries of butterflies in your stomach you’d noticed increasingly often when he was around, the surges of warmth that would sneak up and rush over you unexpectedly when you thought of him, the tingles that flooded your skin when he stood that little bit too close to you.

Which, when you thought about it, was maybe contributing to the ounce of vindication you were feeling regarding the hooker failure. It wasn’t all the “I told you so” type of satisfaction, anyway, and you weren’t too proud to admit when you liked someone.

“Don’t worry about it,” you assured him now, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“You’re giving me a pat on the back and telling me it’s alright,” he sighed, almost mournfully. “Dean said–”

You reached up, pressing a finger to his lips and shaking your head. “You wanna know something?”

He nodded, brows furrowed. He hadn’t drawn back, you noticed.

“It doesn’t matter how much sex Dean has,” you whispered, hand still floating close by his face. “I wouldn’t take a damn letter of his advice in that department.”

“Why not?” His breath tickled your skin, and suddenly you realised just how close you were standing.

You shrugged, dispelling the shiver that had run up your spine. “I just know if a dude came onto me how he comes onto chicks, I’d kick him in the balls.”

“I’ll make a point to not come onto you like he does, in that case.”

It took a moment – past the words “like he does”, not that he wouldn’t come onto you full stop, but like Dean does – for the fact that it was a joke to sink in, then you smiled. Maybe there was, or had been, hope for him yet. You took a breath, turning the words over in your mind. It was now or never, you supposed.

“I want you to know,” you said carefully, “if you die–”

“When. Tomorrow, when I die.”

“Uh, yeah.” You swallowed. How could he be so matter of fact about it? How could he just say it like that? It didn’t matter, you supposed. Whether he said it or didn’t, it wasn’t going to change the fact that it was happening.

“When I die…” he prompted when you were silent.

“I want you to know that I liked you,” you said simply, then shrugged. “I think I was on the way to really liking you.”

He frowned, and for a moment you thought you’d made a massive mistake. “You don’t have to do that,” he said. “I don’t mind. I know I’m… a dick.”

“Jesus, Cas,” you snorted. “Guess we say that a bit too much, don’t we?”

“Maybe.”

“And we don’t say ‘thank you’ enough.”

He shook his head, still holding your hand. “You don’t have to do this,” he repeated.

“It’s not about that. Not all of it, anyway.” You smiled, glancing at your hand where it met his. It looked big, wrapped around your fingers, and it fitted painfully well. “But, you know, if it’s your last night on Earth…” You looked up, wiggling your eyebrows. You could play it off as a joke if you needed to, you weren’t too far in yet.

That familiar almost-smile you’d come to look for danced over his lips. “You pity me, dying a virgin? Dying,” he added. “A virgin.”

You laughed. “I don’t… pity you. Not exactly. Not because you’re gonna die a virgin, and definitely not because you’re a virgin.”

“Because I scared away a prostitute?”

“Her loss,” you laughed. “And anyway, if it’s your first and last time, it’d be nice to… y’know… feel good.”

He frowned. “Surely a prostitute would know how to do that?”

“Maybe the technicalities,” you shrugged, “but there’s more to it than that. There’s feelings, y’know?”

“Feelings?”

Again, you shrugged, suddenly self conscious. What were you doing? “Two way street kind of thing,” you explained lamely. “Not just someone you want, but someone who wants you. Not just your money.” You were acutely aware of the unspoken words floating beneath the casual sentence. I want you. It could be me.

A pause, where his eyes seemed to bore into your soul. He had a knack for that, you’d noticed. Sometimes you felt like he could see right to the very core of your being. In the dimness, they looked even more startlingly blue than usual. He was so close, you could almost count his eyelashes, almost feel the rise and fall of his chest beneath the coat, jacket, shirt, tie…

“When it’s…” He paused, his tongue darting over his lips. God, his lips. “Someone you want.”

“Mhm.”

“Someone who wants you.”

“Mhm.”

“Not just your money.”

You hadn’t taken your eyes off his mouth through the whole exchange, and your voice, when you asked, sounded softer than you’d meant it to, breathy and faint to your own ears. “Do you want me, Cas? Last night on Earth, and all.”

The corner of his mouth curled up, brows twitching into a thoughtful frown. No, you thought, not quite a frown. Something else, more curious than confused. Almost quizzical. “I think…” He paused, drawing breath. “I think I do.”

“Ok,” you smiled, ignoring the butterfly rampage taking place in your stomach. This kind of thing wasn’t supposed to happen in real life. Not your life, anyway, even if it was Cas’s last night on Earth. It didn’t exist outside the pages of those shitty paperbacks.

“Do you want me?” Cas asked.

“Mhm.” It was all you could manage, really. Then you were stretching up the last few inches between your face and his, pressing your lips gently against his own.

He was perfectly still for a heartbeat, two heartbeats, almost three. Then his hand tightened around yours and he pulled you closer, trench coat rustling where your chest met it. He kissed you the way you remembered the first boy who’d ever kissed you – a boy in your year level at school, at a party, playing spin the bottle no less – had kissed you. The want was all there, the enthusiasm and anticipation and the only half-conscious desire for more. His lips remained shut, but you could feel in it that he knew it wasn’t quite right.

You pulled away briefly, just enough to raise a hand to his mouth and run your thumb over his bottom lip. “Like this,” you murmured, pushing just enough to part his lips. Then your hands were in his hair and you were pulling him down to you, and this time it was perfect.

He made a little sound of pleasure as your tongue slipped beside his, stroking, caressing, gently as you could. Without any guidance, his hand had found the cloth-shielded contours of your breast, tracing the outline with a sort of awe. His fingers ran along the neckline of your top, dipping under the material, curving around your bare shoulder, exploratory and cautious.

You let him explore you, his hands mapping out every curve he could touch, tongue darting into every uncharted depth he could find, tasting and learning and discovering parts of you you hadn’t guessed could be felt like this through just a kiss. Your mind spiralled as his hand eased under your shirt, cool fingers tickling the skin of your hip. He squeezed gently, pulling you against him harder, and you gave in completely. You weren’t sure if it was what he had been going for, but when you pushed your pelvis against his he gasped; a quiet, shuddering little sound that went straight to your panties.

“Ok?” you breathed between kisses, then, at his nod, you did it again.

His voice was strangled when he said your name, the pads of his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your waist. Oh Cas, you thought. A rush of affection washed over you at how eager he was, where just an hour before he’d been being literally pushed out the door by Dean, looking as terrified as you’d ever seen him at the prospect of sex. Now he was kissing you hungrily, kneading at your skin, inching your shirt up off your torso, his feet at risk of tangling with yours as he walked you backwards. Not to mention the increasingly noticeable bulge pressed against you.

“Clothes off,” you breathed, already undoing his tie. “On the couch.”

He paused, then he was shrugging off the trench coat, the blazer following suit – no pun intended – and landing with a soft rustling thump on the floor. You stepped back, just a little, as he deftly unfastened the buttons of his shirt, drinking in every inch of skin like a kid in a lolly shop. Fuck, maybe you had the hots for him even worse than you’d thought.

“Are you going to undress too?” The question was mild, matter of fact, but something in the way Cas had paused midway through relieving himself of his pants and was watching you, hands still on the belt buckle, made you stomach flip.

You cleared your throat, but your voice still came out too low, too husky. “Sure.”

His gaze didn’t leave you for an instant – apart from when he kicked his discarded trousers aside – as you pulled your shirt the rest of the way over your head, slid your jeans as gracefully as you could down your legs. You shivered slightly in the cool night air, acutely aware of your hunter’s body.

Cas’s eyes widened, scanning over you and taking in every inch of your skin. It wasn’t perfect, you were aware of that. It wasn’t like a hooker’s body, it carried you around as you fought monsters, and was littered with the proof of said monster fights. You wondered if Cas had seen other – normal – human bodies like this, if he’d find the painfully obvious reminders of your mortality somehow repellent. You suddenly felt very, very small and very, very human.

“Sorry about… y’know…” You shrugged, patting your thigh awkwardly. “The meatsack’s a little dinged up. Most people don’t look like this.”

“Don’t look like what?” he frowned, finally looking back at your face.

You shrugged again, poking a long white scar over your side. The first werewolf you’d ever come face to face with, and nearly the last. “Scarred. At least not as much as I am,” you added.

A shiver shot up your spine as Cas settled his hands on your bare waist, fingers running over the most noticeable marks. “Don’t apologise,” he said softly. “You’re human, and you spend your days killing monsters. It would be more disturbing if you were unblemished.”

You laughed at that, a small breathy sound. “You think I’m disturbing?”

He smiled faintly. “You’re not so bad.”

You felt your own mouth curve, matching his. “Neither are you.”

He leaned down, his lips meeting yours once more. This kiss was softer, more intimate, maybe a little too intimate. You were vaguely aware of the couch behind you. Before your knees knocked against its side, you broke away – a difficult task, given that Cas chased your lips like a lab rat after cheese – and spun, laying your hands firmly on his chest.

“Couch,” you muttered, giving a gentle push.

He pulled you with him as he sat down, his hands running down over your hips, your thighs, back up again to your waist. He watched you carefully as his touch slid up the centre of your torso, over your bra, lingering momentarily on the anti-possession sigil tattooed over your heart before he moved on, across the line of your ribs. Unbidden, the memory of the last time he’d touched you there sprang to mind; the sharp, burning pain and throbbing after-ache of the Enochian sigils being literally carved into your bones.

“I can see them,” he whispered, as if he’d read your mind. “The sigils.”

You raised an eyebrow. “How do they look?”

“Foreign,” he said after a moment. “They don’t belong.”

You shrugged, unsure how to respond to that. Sure, the sigils weren’t part of you, and you didn’t exactly know how you felt about angel writing being carved into your ribcage, but there was also something reassuring about knowing it was there, knowing you carried that kind of magic with you. In you.

Cas’s eyes lifted from your body, fixing on your own. “Can you feel them?” he inquired.

You shook your head. “Not really. Not physically. But I know they’re there.”

“Perhaps I should have asked,” he muttered, almost to himself. “It’s your body, after all.”

“No,” you smiled. “Don’t worry about it. I kinda like the idea of you scribbling on me. Bone graffiti.”

“Bone graffiti?”

You felt the smile grow, nodding. “Besides,” you added, “I’ll always have a little bit of you, even after you're gone. Like a… souvenir.”

“Oh,” was all he said. You supposed people were right about impending death making people sappier. But still, what you said was true. Your own ribs had become a kind of lucky charm, a talisman, a locket of sorts.

You dragged yourself out of that line of thinking before you went any further, turning your attention back to the angel currently underneath you on the couch. Underneath you and very shirtless. You’d placed your own hands on his chest in an attempt to not fall over on top of him, and now you let yourself touch him – really touch him. His chest heaved under your fingers as you swept over him, a tiny, strangled noise falling from his lips.

“Alright?” you asked, pausing for a moment.

He nodded, shifting slightly under you. “It’s good,” he said softly.

“Keep going?”

Again, a nod. Cautiously, gently, you spread your fingers over his chest. His heart beat fast, thudding frantically as you moved your other hand lower, down the centre of his torso, following the contours of his lithe muscles. You reached the waistband of his underpants, pausing.

“Can I?” you asked, your hand hovering over his barely concealed erection.

“Yes,” he whispered, tongue darting over his lips. His eyes flicked from your face to your hand, back to your face again.

You smiled as you slipped your fingers under the waistband of his underwear. His dick was hot to the touch, hard and already damp at the tip. “You ever touched yourself?” you asked as you withdrew your hand, spitting into your palm.

Cas’s breath hitched. “Once.”

“Yeah?”

He nodded, licking his lips again. “Dean said I wasn’t supposed to talk about it.”

“Yeah, well…” You smiled again, wrapping your fingers around his cock and stroking languidly. “You can tell me.”

He gave a sort of half gasp, half moan, his grip tightening on your thigh. “I found Dean’s magazine,” he confessed. “The one with the women, not the cars.”

“Mhm?” You kept your voice mild, focussing on the steady motion of your arm and wrist, your fingers sliding effortlessly over him. You could almost see Cas flipping through the pages of one of those god-awful porn mags Dean insisted on carting around, picture his confused little head-tilt and his frown as he looked through the pictures, his hand creeping to where yours was now, his much larger fingers circling–

“It was uncomfortable,” he continued, jerking you back to the present. “Too hot. I really just wanted it to go away.”

“And did it?”

“Not until I– oh!” He broke off as your thumb slid over the leaking head of his cock, fingers digging into your thigh.

You fought off the surge of heat the sound sent shooting through you, watching his slightly parted lips, his wide eyes. “Did you cum?” you asked evenly.

“Yes,” he panted, hips twitching up slightly. “Oh, (Y/N), yes–”

“Yes, you did cum?”

“Yes, yes I did.”

“Was it good?”

Another soft moan, then he smiled. “Not as good as this.”

Maybe it was the praise, maybe the moan, maybe the smile. Either way, the words went straight to your panties. You ignored it, stopping yourself from grinding against him with willpower that would have impressed Jesus. Although, you weren’t sure how he would have felt about you fucking a literal angel.

You leant forward, kissing his lips gently, then his jaw, then his neck, then his chest. You kept going, tracing a path inexorably downwards, shuffling backwards to straddle his thigh as he shifted with you, now splayed along the couch lengthways.

“Help me out,” you muttered, your hand moving beside your face as you attempted to pull his underwear off. Obediently, he lifted his hips and kicked them aside, the muscles of his stomach twitching as you placed a kiss on the junction of his hip. And holy shit, you could have just watched his torso moving like that forever. You kissed his hip again, sucking gently at the spot, licking over the mark you conjured. Then you added another beside it, and another, and another. A little belt of hickeys across his pelvis.

“Do you, hm, touch yourself too?” he asked, breathless and raw.

“Fuck, Cas.” You paused where you’d been about to kiss the base of his cock, raising your eyes to his. His chest rose and fell, rose and fell again, the skin almost glowing in the dim light.

He frowned. “Am I not supposed to ask that?”

“You can ask me anything you want,” you assured him, kissing the little trail of hair below his belly button. “And yeah, I do.”

“Does it feel good?”

You smiled. “Yeah.”

“Do you…” He paused, searching for the words. “Do you want to do it now?”

“This is about you,” you said softly, giving his cock a gentle squeeze. “Don’t worry about me.”

“I want you to feel good too.”

You sat up, studying him. There was nothing by sincerity in his eyes, the genuine desire – and desire there was – for you to enjoy yourself. And why shouldn’t you indulge that? You were having a great time as it was, and there was no denying the throbbing ache that had grown exponentially between your legs.

“You want me to touch myself?” you asked, double checking.

He nodded. “Yes, please.”

“Ok.” You shed your own underpants, shivering as the cool air came in contact with your wetness. Slowly, you reached down and ran your finger over your clit, your breath hitching in your chest. You repeated the action, your hand moving further down to circle your entrance, slick gathering on your fingers. You’d done this countless times before, and you weren’t ashamed of it. Masturbation was natural, it was a perfectly normal perfectly human thing to do. This, however was different. You’d never had an audience before, never had anyone watch you with such rapt wonder and awe.

Cas’s eyes flicked down to your bra, then back to your face. A question, almost a request.

“Off?” you asked, already reaching behind your back. He nodded, watching carefully as you shed the garment and cast it aside to join the pile of clothes on the floor. Slowly, reverently, he stretched up and kissed your breast, his hand leaving its place on your hip to trace over the other one.

A shiver ran down your spine and you bit down on your lip, attempting futilely to stifle your moan. Absently, your hand resumed its place between your thighs as Cas’s hand left your chest and found its way to his cock. You’d never in a million years have thought you’d be where you were now; touching yourself on top of an angel touching himself while he did his best to turn your chest into one giant hickey. You were hardly complaining.

Something rustled in the next room over, and you both froze. Fuck, you thought. Dean was still (hopefully) asleep, only the wall and the hastily closed door to that room barring him from hearing you. Cas seemed to have had exactly the same thought, his head tilted slightly as he listened, his breath raising goosebumps on the spit-damp skin of your chest. There was another rustle, then a quiet snort, then nothing. He hadn’t woken, then.

“We gotta be quiet,” you whispered. You shifted, biting back another moan. “Ok?”

“Ok,” Cas nodded. He pressed his lips firmly together, eyes flicking down to where your hand disappeared between your legs. You hissed as you resumed your movement, acutely aware of every possible sound you or Cas made, ears pricked for any other disturbance from nextdoor.

Cas’s free hand was still resting on your thigh, firmly holding you in place on top of himself. His wrist brushed your own with every stroke of his cock, the skin over his stomach and chest twitching ever so slightly. His own thigh tensed as he thrust into his hand, something that you could only describe as a whimper falling from his lips. Heat surged over you, your mind awash with desire. If only that hooker knew what she was missing.

“Sorry,” he muttered almost immediately, eyes darting towards the door.

“‘Salright,” you replied, swallowing hard. Being quiet was a much more difficult task than you’d anticipated, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the possibility of being caught just a little bit. You grunted softly as your finger brushed over a particularly sensitive spot, the familiar rhythm and movements working just as well as ever, and even better when you had Cas to look at. Not to mention the warmth of his mouth where it occasionally found your breasts again.

But you wanted more, you needed more. The same part of you that was electrified by your own touch craved his, especially when his beautiful hands were right there and his eyes were still fixed on you like you were the centre of the universe, his own movements becoming faster and more frantic, chest heaving.

You paused, much as it pained you. “Do you wanna go further?”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

Gently, you laid your hand over his and peeled it away from his cock. Wriggling forwards a little, you finally – finally – rocked your hips over his, revelling in the hot hardness of him against your slick. His mouth fell open, fingers tightening on your own.

“Here, Cas. I want you inside me, wanna fuck you properly.”

“Oh, (Y/N),” he sighed, his own hips matching your movement.

“Will you let me? Let me fuck you?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “Yes, of course.”

You smiled. “Ok, one second.” You reached over the side of the couch, digging through the pockets of your jeans until you found your wallet – and the little foil package inside it.

“What are you doing?” Cas asked as you tore it open and set the latex atop his dick.

“It’s a condom,” you explained. “So I don’t get pregnant. No offence,” you grinned, “but I don’t really wanna have your babies any time soon.”

“Oh.” He swallowed, processing. “That’s… understandable.”

“All good?” At his nod, you slid the condom the rest of the way down, spitting into your hand once more and resuming your earlier ministrations. “It feels a little different, I know,” you whispered as you moved to grind against him once more.

“It’s still good,” he assured you, placing his hands gently on your hips.

You smiled. “Ready?”

“Yes.” The word was a breath, nothing more, but it was all you needed. Carefully, you lined him up and sank down, watching his face carefully. His eyes widened, his fingers digging into your flesh slightly as a deep groan reverberated through the space between you.

“Gotta be quiet,” you reminded him, your voice not half as steady as you’d have liked. “Don’t wanna wake Dean up, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he echoed, “quiet.”

You leaned forwards and placed a soft kiss on his lips, rocking your hips over his. He was everything you’d imagined and so much more. It was like he’d been made for you, the way his cock stroked every inch of your insides, sliding smoothly with how wet you were. You wanted to go back in time and kick your past self for having waited this long.

“God, Cas,” you sighed. “Oh God.”

His brows pinched together slightly, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he stretched up and captured your lips with his, moving down over your jaw to your neck, sucking gently just as you’d done to the skin of his hip. Your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him close against you as you lifted and lowered your hips, a faint whine somehow slipping from your lips despite your best efforts.

“Is this, hm, ok?” he asked, his usually gravelly voice made even more so.

“Fuck,” you gasped as his hand came to rest on your ass, kneading at the soft flesh, moving up over the front of your hips where your leg met the rest of your body. “So good, Cas.”

“You’re so good,” he murmured, guiding your movements gently. He thrust into you, his hips meeting yours halfway, stomach muscles flexing.

“Let me,” you said, pushing him backwards into the couch cushions. “You relax, yeah? I’ve got it. I’ve got you.”

He nodded, head tipping back as you bounced on his dick, the rough fabric of the cushion beneath you scratching at your knees. Fumbling slightly, your hands found purchase on his chest and you locked your elbows in an odd sort of imitation of CPR. If CPR was done from the front rather than the side, you supposed, but you weren’t exactly doing any resuscitation.

His chest heaved under your touch, another low groan seeming to echo in the otherwise stillness of the night. The tiny part of your brain that wasn’t totally consumed with the wonderful pleasure-ache of his cock hitting deep inside you and the burn of your thighs was torn between telling him to be quiet and just listening to him, but then he was licking his lips again and his mouth was falling open and you were lost.

“(Y/N),” he panted, his eyes fixed on your face. “Oh, (Y/N), oh my–”

“Alright?” you asked, biting back a moan as you found a particularly good angle.

“Yes, yes, of course. It’s, hm, so good.” He glanced momentarily down at where your body met his, another groan rumbling in his chest.

“Sh–” you whispered, half tempted to press your hand over his mouth. Or maybe your own, given the struggle you were facing to remain quiet yourself.

“Sorry, sorry I–”

You cut him off quickly. “It’s alright Cas, you’re fine. Just, fuck–”

“(Y/N),” he panted, the muscles of his arms and stomach flexing as his fingers gripped the couch cushion, luminescent in the dimness. Again, his eyes flicked downwards, this time to the soft mound of flesh currently on display.

You smiled, reaching down to take his hand, drawing it up to rest over your pelvis. His skin was warmer than you’d ever felt it, faintly clammy and God his hand was big under your own. You couldn’t count the number of times you’d caught yourself picturing his hands in this kind of context, and you didn’t want to try. His fingers splayed over your skin, moving with you, covering the whole space below your naval.

“That’s where you are,” you panted. “That’s where I can feel you, Cas, right there.”

A small, strained noise you could only describe as a whine. “Is it, ah, good? Do you like it? Do you like feeling… me?”

“Fuck,” you sighed. “Yeah, sure do, Cas. Do you like feeling me?”

He smiled, biting down hard on his lower lip. “Of course. I like it immensely.”

You felt yourself clench at his words, and this time you were unable to restrain the downright pornographic moan that tore from your throat. Any other time, you might have been embarrassed, but Cas seemed to like it. Pressing your lips firmly together, you glanced hastily towards the other room, but as far as you could tell there was no disturbance.

“(Y/N), oh, (Y/N), I don’t think—” He swallowed hard, eyes wide and back on your face.

“Yeah? What’s wrong?”

“I can’t— I don’t think I can be quiet, (Y/N) I—”

Affection bloomed alongside the desire in your gut, and you had half a mind to tell him it was alright, he didn’t even have to worry about being quiet at all. It wasn’t like you didn’t love the noises he was making. But Dean was only one room over, and you didn’t want to wake him.

“You can, Cas,” you breathed, “you can. You’re doing so well already, we just gotta— fuck.”

He’d bucked his hips up into you, the movement jolting the steady knot of pleasure forming low in your stomach. He was close, you could see it as much as hear it, but the thought of the thin walls and your friend sleeping in the next room over had taken root more firmly in your mind now.

“It’s so much,” Cas gasped. “Oh, oh, (Y/N) it’s so much—”

You managed a smile, slowing down your movements a little. “I know,” you said softly. “You’re ok, yeah?”

He nodded frantically. “Hm, yes, yes. Please, don’t stop. Keep going, please—”

Another soft moan slipped from your mouth, Cas’s answering groan enough to make your legs shake. It was too loud, and any other time you’d have soaked up his praises and curses and everything, but not now. After a moment’s hesitation, you clamped your hand firmly over his mouth, sh-ing him gently. If possible, his eyes widened even further and he groaned against your skin.

“Alright?” you breathed.

Another frantic nod, an almost-whimper as your grip firmed up. Well I’ll be damned, you thought vaguely. Who’d have guessed he was into that?

You felt him shiver all over as you continued to rock your hips over his, his hand where it rested on your hip tightening. You wondered if you’d have finger-shaped bruises later. It didn’t matter, you told yourself as he moaned again, his stomach muscles tensing, something that could have been your name squashed under your hand.

“Sh, shh!” you gasped. Between holy shit I’m so close and holy shit he’s so close, the thought that Dean was right there and would hear you was still rooted in your mind. “Cas, sh, Dean’s right– ah, fuck, Dean’s–”

You broke off as Cas’s chest heaved, his hips bucking up into you once more. His mouth had fallen open under your hand and he was gasping something, angel curse-words, maybe? It didn’t matter, not when his eyes were screwed shut and his head was tipped back, your name sprinkled into the litany of foreign words like a prayer.

The sight was enough to make the bomb that had been building in your stomach explode, sparks of pleasure shooting through your aching legs right to your toes and back up again. You might have said Cas’s name, you weren’t sure, but the sentiment was there. You clamped a hand over your own mouth, nothing but the need to be quiet reverberating through your pleasure-blanked mind.

After what felt like an age, your brain managed to find its way back into your skull and the aftershocks of your orgasm faded from your body. Gently, you removed your hand from Cas’s mouth and looked down at him, smiling.

“Alright?” you asked.

His hair was a mess, his brow lightly beaded with sweat, cheeks flushed. There was even a slight red mark where your hand had been, which you stroked gently.

“I’m more than alright,” he smiled, turning to place a tiny kiss on your fingers. “Are you?”

“Good,” you nodded as you slid off him, mourning the sudden emptiness momentarily as you peeled off the condom, tying it in a neat knot to be disposed of later. Then he was lifting his arm, wriggling with you as if he could read your mind, and you were being cocooned against his body.

“I’m sorry,” he said after a moment, “if I was too loud.”

“You weren’t,” you assured him quickly. “Not at all. Sorry about… gagging you. I should’ve asked. That’s not what usually happens.”

He hesitated, turning to meet your eyes. “I… didn’t mind.”

“No?”

He shook his head, a small, nervous smile dancing across his lips. “No. In fact, I quite liked it.”

You felt your own smile widen as you placed a soft kiss on his cheek, taking his hand where it rested on his chest. “Good,” you said. “What about the rest? What do you think?”

He sighed, a beautifully satisfied noise that flooded you with warmth. “I think I should not have waited this long.”

You laughed, pressing closer. “Mhm?”

“Mhm. Thank you, (Y/N), truly.”

“Oh,” you said softly, turning away to hide the blood rushing to your face. “That’s ok, Cas. Thank you.”

He gave another little hum, shifting to drape his arm over your waist and pull you into him, fingers skimming your ribs. Getting spooned by a divine warrior of God, you thought with a thrill. Real life really was stranger than fiction.

“You’re tired,” he murmured, his voice seeming to rumble through you in the best way possible. “You should sleep.”

“Hold on,” you protested as you felt his arm withdrawing. You grabbed his hand, pulling it firmly back down to rest on your stomach, wiggling closer. “There was a blanket on the back, grab that. I’m staying here.”

You could almost feel him frowning when he replied. “You’d not rather a bed?”

You only hesitated a moment before bending to kiss his arm. “I’d rather you.”

He didn’t seem to know quite what to say to that, but after a beat something heavy and slightly scratchy was being draped over you, and Cas’s arm was tightening around your waist, and his lips were pressing against your shoulder.

“G’night,” you whispered.

“Good night, (Y/N).”

It was Dean who found his two friends curled together on the couch the next morning. He snorted, taking in the gentle rise and fall of your shoulders in tandem with Cas’s, his hand enveloping your smaller one where it rested just above the blanket, the assortment of what was very clearly Cas’s suit and your own clothes scattered over the floor. Well, he supposed, the night hadn’t been a complete failure. He had half a mind to throw something at you, the scene was so jarringly… sweet.

“Rise n’ shine lovebirds,” he called instead, “we’ve got shit to do.”

#supernatural #castiel #castiel x reader #castiel smut #castiel x you #supernatural fanfiction #shameless smut #supernatural smut #smut #fanfiction #fanfic #cas x reader #female reader #x reader #reader insert

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xzhdjsj · 10 days

Text

Iron on my Tongue

Isaac x Reader

Isaac has a bad feeling about your meeting. (Isaac's POV)

Warnings: anxiety, description of blood, death of character

@chilliesillie and @kieran-rhoades created a vivid image in my mind of this scene so here it is written for you my loves<3 I hope I was able to capture this the way you imagined!

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

It’s a dim afternoon, grey clouds are settled in the sky with a promise of rain later and the wind is chilly. My partner isn't with me right now, maybe if they were I would be enjoying the weather more. I hope they make it back home before the shower.

They're out on their own business, a meeting with a client I introduced them to. As much as I'd like to pride myself in my improvements thus far, I still can't quite let them leave the house to meet someone completely unknown to me. Whatever client I hand over to them are well researched and kept on tab to ensure their meeting environment is a safe one and they’ll be able to get back home to me.

I still have my doubts regardless, but I can't control their every move. They deserve to live. It’s funny because they tell me the same thing, "Isaac you deserve to live, without the worry and torment."

I don't think I'd ever be who I am today without them. The day I met them all those months ago, I'd never believed it if someone told me we'd not only be partners in my field of work, but also lovers. They're the one thing that means the most to me and I absolutely cannot let them get hurt. I trust them, and I know they'll do their best to stay safe but the underlying worry still bothers me.

There's this unusual feeling in my chest, the kind I haven’t experience in a while and worst of all, I'm not sure why it's there. It's bearable, but it's not. A distant but static feeling that hazes over my body and clouds my senses.

I take a sip of my coffee and its burns my tongue. It's hot, way too hot.

"Fuck" I pinch the space between my eyebrows and sigh.

My luck hasn't been the best today, but maybe a shower would wash away whatever this is and I can finally settle down. I push the cup aside and head for the bathroom, peeling the clothes from my body.

I let the water slide off my skin, the only thing on my mind is them. I could chalk this feeling up to just my anxiety, but this is more. This is an additional weight that presses against my chest and squeezes at my heart. An extra burden to carry on my shoulders, one I'm unfamiliar with yet I distantly relate to. Some sort of gut feeling that’s pointed in some unknown direction. I could easily pick up my phone and call them but their voice rings in my head.

"Here's the deal Isaac, no calls from you this time. We have to work something out little by little until you're comfortable with me leaving the house. Instead of you calling me, I'll call you before and after my meeting. Deal?"

I agreed to it of course. I want to be better. For them I want to be better, so each time I think of calling, I turn my phone screen down. I know their meeting started at 3pm and lasts about two hours, so I'm expecting a call at 5.

I step out the shower, tying my robe at the side. The first thing I do is glace at the clock.

4:55

I should be receiving that call soon, and since a shower did absolutely nothing to sooth my nerves, I'm hoping their voice will.

I'm back in the kitchen again, my phone sitting in front of me and I reach for the coffee I had left earlier. I take a sip and now it's too cold. What a day. I dump it down the sink without a second thought, it’s not important right now anyways.

5 o'clock rolls around and I'm impatiently bouncing my knee. There isn’t a single notification from them. 10 minutes. I'll wait 10 minutes and then I'll call. The feeling in my chests grows heavier and heavier and I'm counting down every second. I can't look away from my phone, waiting and hoping to see my screen light up.

5:07

That's basically 5:10 right? If I call now, it wouldn't make a difference. I frantically find their contact and click the small button near it. I take a deep breath, then exhale. It's okay. They'll answer and say their meeting ran a little late and scold me for not waiting a full 10 minutes like I promised. Nothing bad is going to happen. I’m able to fool neither my mind nor my heart.

It rings, and rings, and rings... then disconnects.

There’s no answer. My heart rate picks up and I call again.

Same as before, it rings but no answer.

I attempt to call again, but the phone slips from my grasp. I hadn't noticed it before but my palms are clammy and covered in sweat, cold sweat. I drag them against my robe and quickly snatch the phone off the floor, skipping a call entirely to find their location.

The little icon is not at their meeting location, it’s not at the coffee shop they enjoy visiting, its nowhere close to home. Instead it stays stagnant at a foreign location, a maze-like pathway between a block of buildings.

I’m unsure about almost everything at the moment, but one thing I know for certain is that I need to find them. I leave my house right away. I call until their voicemail is engraved into my skull. I send text after text, but there’s still no response. I check their location again but the only icon that moves is my own as I get closer to my destination.

The rest of the way I need to continue on foot. I have a gun tucked into the waist of my pants and I don’t know what awaits me, or if I’ll even be able to fight it but if I don’t find them I might go completely insane. My stomach turns at the scent, and sight before me. It’s a dirty alleyway, much dirtier than the one I found them in. It makes me sick. The unease in my body casts over me like a giant shadow and it’s starting to make sense. It feels like a rat in my stomach trying to claw its way through my mouth. I hate it. I hate it so much.

I find their phone, their bag and random sheets on paper scattered through path. They’re covered in muddy footprints and soaked in murky water. Something bad happened, that much I knew, but there’s 3, 4, 5 maybe 6 pairs of footprints here. They were outnumbered.

“Name!” I yell. “Where are you?”

I run further and further down but there’s no sign of them. My heart is pounding against my chest and I’m so so scared. I’m looking everywhere but there’s no one here. I grip onto my hair in frustration. Where are they? Did those people take them away? Who were they? There’re hundreds of people who’d want to hurt me but specifically WHO?

“I-Isaac…?” a weak voice calls behind me.

I’m overcome with relief when I hear them, but the state I see them in as I turn around fills me with worry and rage.

They’re holding onto the mouldy walls, sliding down to the ground when they couldn’t support themselves anymore. Their body and clothes are covered in mud and dirt, ripped and bruised. I rush over to them, supporting their weight against my own body.

I’m worried, so worried but I’m relieved they’re still here. I’m relieved they’re still alive.

“God, Pickle” I place a hand against their back, its warm and wet, and they wince in pain at the pressure. “Where are you hurt? Who did this to you?”

“Isaac,” they smile up at me, a hand reaching for my face. “You came. I knew you’d come.”

I hold their hand against my cheek. “Of course, my love. I’ll always find you I promised to protect you always.”

“My knight.” Their voice comes out faint and dull.

“Yours, always yours.” I lean down to kiss them, gently on their lips. It was supposed to be a simple kiss, more as reassurance to my self than them but I taste iron against my tongue, metallic and salty. I pull away abruptly and their body bends forwards choking on coughs as the red liquid spills from their lips. Blood.

It's on the concrete, my pants and my hands? The hand I had against their back… It's covered in blood?

Their jacket wasn’t soaked with water? The warmth I felt wasn’t from their body? It was their blood.

“Isaac.” Their hand is on my face again, pulling me from my thoughts. “You’re *cough* spacing out my darling.”

I don’t bother responding, pulling their jacket off their shoulder. Red, it's all red. Their shirt is soaked through and through with blood and ripped in multiple areas. Stabs, fuck they were stabbed.

“No no no!” I panic. “I need to do something, I need to get you out of here!”

“Isaac please, I can barely move. Its’s *cough* gonna be okay, just please stay here with me.”

“How could I let this happen to you? Why not me instead?” I feel tears roll down my cheek and I’m terrified.

“It’s not your ugh fault Isaac. Please, for my sake, don’t blame yourself.” Their voice continues to weaken. I feel stupid for honouring their request of just staying here, but some part of me knows that there’s nothing I can do now.

“Isaac, I love you”

“Yes, I know my love. I love you too, I love you more than anything.” I feel like a child again, crying my eyes out. I should be the one comforting them, but my voice is filled with fear and my breathing is unsteady.

“Thank you… for all you’ve done for me.” Their voice fades in and out. “Please don’t ever forget me”

Their hand falls from my face but I catch it pressing it back onto my skin. “No, you have to keep your eyes open! Please! Keep your eyes open name! Don’t let go of me!”

“I’m… sorry Isaac. I don’t think I can.” They barely whisper, their eyes struggling to stay open.

“No please, not now! I’ve only just gotten you, you- you can’t leave me yet.” I held them close, sobbing into their hair.

We never made it home before the downpour. I stayed there with them to the very end. I held them in the freezing cold until their breaths slowed. I held them until the warmth drained from their body and they also grew cold. I stayed there until left me for good.

I held my composure, for their sake, wrapping them in my jacket and took them home. I washed their body until they were completely clean before tucking them into bed. One last time, they were by my side. Tomorrow they’d be resting in my garden resting among the flowers, and my mother would finally meet the love of my life. I hope she’d be proud of me, I hope they’d reflect fondly of me.

I hope they’d forgive me for the things I must do in the future.

I hope they’ll shield their eyes and stay blind to the things I will do. Every last breath of mine will be used to avenge them. I will find those who are responsible for this, and I’ll make sure they regret it.

I couldn’t protect as a knight, so I will destroy everything as a shadow.

#oh look its more isaac angst!#zsakuva #sakuverse #asmr #isaac #isaac rhoades

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daddy-dins-girl · 3 months

Text

Talk Me Down

A fic requested by @anotherpedrolover

I was gonna wait until Frankie Friday (tomorrow) to post this, but this sweet human being has already waited like 2 months for me to finish this, lol, so here you go! I was asked to write a fic about insecure!Frankie who has some self-esteem/body image issues but after being with Reader (who is very appreciative of his body) he gets into it and develops a bit of a praise kink for it but but he hits a rough patch and gets into a dark place, feeling very undeserving of the love and attention Reader gives him. The person who made the request asked me to focus on his feelings and emotions when he is feeling bad and insecure (and specifically asked for some tears to be shed, lol) so I did my best to beat the crap out of Frankie (emotionally).

I hope this is somewhat what they had in mind and that they like it :) I've never really written anything like this (PWP queen over here) so I hope I got it right and didn't make Frankie too OOC. Hope you all enjoy it!

Page dividers provided by the gracious and talented @saradika-graphics

Ao3 link

My Masterlist Word Count: 9.8k Fandom: Triple Frontier (Frankie Morales x f!Reader) Notes: Pre/No TF Mission. Fic title is from the song of the same name by Troye Sivan. Warnings: 🔞 18+MDNI. Angst. Drama. Body Insecurity/Self-esteem issues. Praise Kink. Smut (pretty tame and not a lot, considering its me lol, but its there). Sad!Frankie. Mid-Life-Crisis!Frankie. Emotional hurt/comfort. Eventual happy ending. Established Relationship. No use of y/n. No physical description of Reader.

“Babe, have you seen my -“ you cut yourself off mid sentence as you turn the corner and your eyes land on your boyfriend, leisurely sprawled on the couch with his legs up on the ottoman, ankles crossed over each other and television remote firmly in hand while a baseball game plays in the background.

“Are you serious?”

“What?” Frankie asks, incredulous.

“We have to be at Will and Benny’s in like…” you pause to look at your watch. “Fifteen minutes! And what is that… are you eating the potato salad I made?”

“Was I not supposed to?” Frankie responds, forkful halfway to his mouth again already.

“Oh my god” You shake your head. You literally can’t with him today. You made that for the barbecue pool party today and now it was nearly half gone.

“Nevermind, let’s just go” you huff. You’re not in a great mood and maybe you’re being a little bitchier than usual thanks to this god awful heatwave but Frankie wasn’t helping matters any.

“I’ll be in the car” you grumble towards his general direction as you head out the front door. At least there’s A/C in the Jeep.

Surprisingly he doesn’t keep you waiting long. He’s shoving his slides on his feet as he hops down the front steps only a minute or so later and then jumps into the driver’s seat next to you, buckling his seatbelt and the two of you head out of the driveway.

“See, plenty of time” He grins at you when you pull up to the outside of your friends house a short while later with actually a few minutes to spare before your requested arrival time. You had attempted to stay mad at him, neither of you speaking more than one or two words the entire drive but now with that stupidly adorable smirk on his face you have no choice but to want to kiss it off of him. Despite your best efforts, a smile tugs at the corners of your mouth.

“There it is” his grin widens as he brings a hand up to pinch at your cheek and you playfully swat him away, trying and failing to hold back a little laugh.

“Baby I don’t know what you think we’re gonna miss anyway. It’s my birthday party. They literally can’t start without me”

“Francisco Morales, you’re going to be late to your own funeral, you know that don’t you?” You shake your head at him but the smile hasn’t left your lips.

“Oh baby we’re gonna be real late if you keep that ‘Francisco’ talk up” he says, wiggling his eyebrows at you and reaching over the center console to grab a handful of your upper thigh. “Maybe we skip the party all together, you give me my birthday present early, hmm?”

“Get out of the car you perv!” You laugh, giving him a playful shove. “Are you sure you’re turning 40 and not 14?”

“All right, all right I’ll behave” He sighs, hands up in the air to signal his defeat.

You’re glad he seems like he’s in a better mood so far today. He’s been a little off the last couple of days and you can’t say why. You’ve asked a few times if something was bothering him but he kept shrugging you off, insisting everything was fine. You chalked it up to maybe just work stress and are hoping now that the weekend is here that he’ll be able to just relax and have a great time with his friends.

Despite you being early, the party is actually in full swing on your arrival. You and Frankie let yourselves in through the back gate where the backyard is filled with several of Frankie’s (and now yours, you supposed) friends milling about. The ones you recognize immediately are his old military unit; Santiago, Benny, Will and Tom, as well as Will’s girlfriend and Tom’s wife. There are a few other people around you’ve definitely met before but can’t place all of them. Either way, you’re glad to see so many people have shown up for Frankie on his big day.

The space is decorated too with balloons everywhere, a giant banner that reads “Happy Birthday Fish!” and a big poster board is taped up against the side of the house as soon as you walk in that has pictures of Frankie and his family and friends all over it with the title “40 Years In The Making” written at the top in huge block lettering. You and Frankie both take a moment to look over the board before anyone deeper inside the yard notices you yet. There are a bunch of photos from his younger military days and even a few from when he was just a boy that have you gushing over him, telling Frankie how adorable he was and pinching his cheek for good measure. You spot a couple of pictures of Frankie having fallen asleep at a party (something he’s been known to do) with his signature ball cap pulled down over his face and beer bottle loosely gripped in his hand and those give you both a good laugh. There’s two photos of you and him together, you notice, and your personal favourite picture of Frankie - him flying his helicopter wearing a pair of Aviators, looking so sexy it makes you melt each time you see it.

You safely assume the wife and girlfriends of Frankie’s closest pals were mostly to thank for the decorating. If it were up to the boys there would be a folded table in the middle of the backyard with a pack of cards and a cooler full of beer and that would be it.

“There he is!” Benny shouts across the yard the moment he spots you both just inside the gate. He dashes across the patio and throws his arms around Frankie, nearly knocking him over in the process before landing a few hard slaps to his back. “Happy birthday ya old fuck” he teases, grabbing on to Frankie’s shoulder and jostling him slightly.

“Yeah, yeah, it’ll be your turn soon enough” Frankie reminds him but Benny just shrugs.

“Always be younger than you though” he winks and that earns him a little shove from Frankie.

The rest of the greetings go more or less the same way, playful teasing or ribbing on Frankie for turning the big “4-0”. It gets old quickly but if it bothers Frankie he doesn’t let it show, just takes it in stride as he makes his way through the small crowd and says his hello’s.

By the time you get home much later that night you’re exhausted. It’s late and the day had been long (and hot in that blistering sun). Add to that you’re sober whereas everyone around you had been thoroughly wasted which made the night seem to drag on even longer. You wanted Frankie to have a great time, it was his birthday after all, so you offered to drive you both tonight and somehow that had turned into you offering to be an Uber driver for half the party so instead of it taking ten minutes to get home it had taken an hour.

“I’m beat” you announce through a long drawn out yawn, stretching tired limbs over your head. “You wanna come to bed with me, birthday boy?” You ask playfully, walking up to Frankie and looping your fingers through the belt loops of his tan cargo shorts to tug him a little closer, hoping he catches on that you’re not that tired.

“Think I’m gonna shower, I hate smelling like chlorine” he complains, gently taking your hands and removing them from his waist. “You go on, I won’t be long” he promises before leaning forward and planting a kiss to your forehead.

“Baby,” you whine, a masterful pout displayed on your lips. “C’mon upstairs with me, while it’s still your birthday” you try seductively, hand reaching out to brush over the outside of his pants at his crotch.

“I said I want to shower” Frankie replies back, a little too curtly for your liking and his tone leaving no room for argument as he pushes your hand away a second time. You frown and the huff of disappointment you breathe out doesn’t go unnoticed by your partner.

“Baby come on, I’m sorry. I just don’t wanna go to bed smelling like chemicals. Go on up to bed, I’ll be right behind you” he says with finality and gives your hand a little squeeze before dropping it and heading off to the bathroom.

You sigh but let him go. Truthfully you’d been trying to drag him out of the party for hours, desperate to get him alone and all to yourself. You don’t know what’s come over you today but you felt downright needy for him, your hormones just off the charts and now he’s making you wait even longer when all you want to do is rip his clothes off and show him exactly how glad you are that he was born forty years ago today and by some cosmic twist of fate found his way into your life.

Once in the bedroom and settled into bed you hear the spray of water come to life in the bathroom down the hall and your mind can’t help but drift and think about Frankie, naked and in the shower. How the water is cascading down his broad shoulders to his soft tummy and strong, thick legs and a heat floods your body, going straight to the lower part of your abdomen. You loved his body and you weren’t shy about telling him either. You remember back to when you’d first started dating, the early stages of your intimate relationship. He was so shy around you at first, always insisting the lights be off or even leaving his t-shirt on when you’d have sex. It was all a mystery to you, how someone as gorgeous as Frankie could have self-esteem issues but you loved to remind him how crazy he drove you and how perfect he was in your eyes.

At first he got so embarrassed at your borderline worship of his body, refused to even believe you in the beginning but he warmed up eventually to the point where he loved it. Craved it, even, your praise of him. Though he’d never admitted to it out loud and always remained a little bashful about it, you could tell. Frankie was already a very generous, selfless and enthusiastic lover, but when you really got vocal with him (or better yet let your tongue and hands do the talking) of how much you enjoyed every part of his physical anatomy, Frankie could get downright animalistic with you and it brought the already amazing sex to a whole new level for you both. You had definitely uncovered a little praise-kink in your boyfriend that you don’t think he even knew existed in himself and honestly no sexual relationship you’ve had in the past could ever hold a candle to the one you and Frankie have created together.

You plan on using every weapon in your arsenal on him tonight to truly wish him a happy birthday he won’t soon forget. You’ll caress, kiss and lick your way from his prominent neck vein, his broad chest with just the lightest smattering of golden brown hair, take more than enough time for your tongue to appreciate each of his small dusty pink nipples before you continue down his sternum to where he gets a little softer. You’ll playfully nip and suck at the small expanse of flesh at his belly that protrudes just barely over his waistline, making sure to let him know with words how gorgeous he is, how hot he makes you, how he’s all yours. You just hope you get to have your fill before he takes his own. It had taken you a while to get Frankie to allow you to appreciate him the way you wanted to. He was always insistent on your pleasure and he still is to this day, but you’ve managed to strike a fairly delicate balance now for the most part, though you’ll admit there are days where Frankie comes home and he just needs you. You’ve come to recognize it on him and you’re glad to give him the reins when that happens, knowing that he’ll allow you to do the same when you need it. When you said Frankie was a generous lover you weren’t exaggerating. That man would spend hours with his face buried between your legs if you’d let him, and sometimes you’d let him do just that. But tonight was for him and tonight you need him. Need to show him how in love with him you are in a way that words just can’t do.

You have to press your thighs together just at the thought of him in the shower now, hoping he won’t be long so you can hopefully pull him out of this weird mood he’d been in most of the day. It started not long after you got to Will and Benny’s. Just silly, little things that just seemed to set him off to the point where he’d either pick a fight with you (or whoever else he happened to be talking to) or just get overly quiet and wander off by himself. You think back trying to think what could’ve started it all. He’d gone into the party in a good enough mood but soon after he started acting weird. The two of you barely fought, like ever, and here you were today in front of all your friends getting into a yelling match with each other about goddamn sunscreen of all things. And it wasn’t just you, he seemed overly quiet today around everyone, even his best friends who were more like brothers to him than anything and none of it made sense to you, you just hope now that he was home maybe he’d get out of his funk.

Your mind doesn’t have any longer to dwell however because Frankie emerges from the bathroom and into the bedroom, already changed into a clean pair of boxers and a t-shirt. Your tongue absent-mindedly peeks out to swipe across your bottom lip at the way the wet curls stick to his forehead or how tiny droplets of water soak through the thin cotton of his dark gray t-shirt because he didn’t quite dry himself all the way off before tugging it over his head.

Not that it matters, you don’t plan on him wearing it long anyway.

“Finally” you smile at him from your spot on the bed and shuffle back slightly to pat down on the space next to you on the mattress. You pull back the bed covers to reveal that you’re wearing next to nothing, A black lacy bra and matching panties that really left nothing to the imagination. It was Frankie’s favourite on you.

“You didn’t have to wait up” Frankie says casually, looking down as he unfastens his watch from his wrist to toss it on the nightstand. If he notices your state of nearly undress during his brief glance in your direction he doesn’t say anything or even react. “Thought you were tired” he adds, feigning concern for your sleep habits.

“Read between the lines Morales, was just trying to get you into bed” you tease, sticking the tip of your tongue out at him playfully. He says nothing in response, just flips off the light and crawls in next to you but to your surprise just throws the comforter over you both and turns on his side and faces away from you as he scrunches up his pillow under his head until he’s comfortable and settles.

You frown, not that he can see you, but shuffle over to him anyway so you’re pressed up against his back and your arm slings around his waist. You stay still for a minute, waiting to see if he’ll take your less than subtle hint that you’re “not tired” but he just lays there, unmoving, and so you decide it’s time to take matters into your own hands. Literally.

Your hand slips under the hem of his shirt to rest on his soft belly and begins to gently explore. Fingertips dancing along the smooth skin and sparse little body hairs and moving over to his hip where you grab onto the small bit of extra skin there and massage his side but before you can go any further he’s grabbing your hand and pushing it out from under his shirt. He brings it to rest on top of his chest over the thin cotton of his t-shirt and just holds his hand over top of yours.

“Baby?” You breathe out into the blackness of the room, worry evident in your tone. Was he angry at you for something else now? You hadn’t even done anything for him to be mad at you about, you’ve been in bed the whole time.

“Sorry, I’m just tired” he mumbles into the pillow but you’re not buying it. Frankie was a bit of a night owl, not to mention it was a Saturday night, neither of you had work in the morning and the two of you always made sure to make the most of your weekend nights together when you could really take the time to make love the way you craved to all week.

“Hey,” you call out softly, grabbing for his shoulder and pulling it towards you so he’ll turn to face you. He lets you, turning halfway to you, onto his back and craning his neck to face you.

“Is everything okay? Are you mad at me or something?” You ask genuinely concerned. You try not to make it sound like you’re pouting because you’re not, you just need to know what’s going on with him. Maybe he’s upset about something, or maybe just a little too drunk to actively participate the way he thinks he should but you wouldn’t mind too much if he was, you certainly don’t mind taking care of him and you know he’ll more than make it up to you the next time.

He lets out a sigh and tiredly rubs at his eyes.

“Of course not. Come here, I’m sorry” he sighs once more and lifts his arm closest to you so you can snuggle into him, your head resting on his shoulder and your arm drapes across his middle again. He tilts his head down slightly to kiss the top of your hair but otherwise makes no moves to initiate anything further physically with you, just holds you tightly to his body.

“Are you really tired?” You ask quietly, turning your face slightly to nuzzle into his neck and plant little kisses there. You feel the little shudder that runs through his body and a smile pulls at your lips.

Maybe he wasn’t mad at you.

“I haven’t given you your present yet” you breathe into the warm flesh of his throat, tongue darting out to give a tentative little lick to the underside of his jaw and he rewards you with the slightest little moan, but it’s enough that you heard it and it encourages you to continue.

You begin to kiss and lick your way down the column of his throat while your hand leaves his chest to come down and gently palm him over his boxers and he instinctively thrusts his hips into your touch and you moan into his skin. You can feel him beginning to swell under your touch already.

“Mmm, can I take you out?” You murmur against his collarbone and he nods his head.

“Yeah,” he lets out in a breathy whisper and brings his own free hand down to help you shove his boxers down his thighs until he’s able to kick out of them.

Your hand wraps around his impressive length the moment he’s free from the confines of his underwear, slowly pumping him with practiced strokes and it’s not long until he’s fully hard in your hand and quietly grunting and groaning, your face buried in the juncture where his neck meets his shoulder. You hate that his shirt is still on, your mouth not able to reach all the places it desperately wants to.

Your hand leaves him for a moment as you push yourself up onto your knees and swing one leg over him so you're straddling his hips, your hands resting on his chest overtop of the soft worn cotton.

“You can be tired baby, let me all do the work” you coo, leaning down to place another kiss to his jaw as you slowly grind your pelvis into his. Maybe that was it. Maybe he was just too tired or drunk to have the full cognitive function he needed but that was fine by you, tonight was for him anyways.

“Shit,” he groans, hands sliding under the back of your panties to grope the globes of your ass in his two large hands and he presses you down even harder against his groin just as he thrusts his hips upwards, the delicious friction causing a moan to escape your lips.

“Mmm, you feel so good” you whimper against his heated flesh as you nuzzle the underside of his jaw and into his throat.

“Take these off” Frankie practically growls, impatiently shoving your underwear down and with his help you manage to wiggle free of them. You both moan in unison when your lower halves press together again, this time with no barriers between you as his throbbing member slides through your slick folds with every calculated thrust of your hips against him.

“Baby you make me so wet” you giggle, hands roaming his hard chest and broad shoulders. “God you’re so hot” you praise, mouth latching back onto his neck as you trail hot open-mouthed kisses down the column of his throat until you reach the collar of his t-shirt.

“Off” you gently demand, hands going to the bottom of his tee and beginning to push it upwards. You need to feel all of him, his warm skin on yours. Need to lick and kiss and touch every inch of him. “Let me touch you”

“Mnnmm mnmm” he shakes his head and without warning suddenly flips you both with practiced ease until you’re underneath him flat on your back and he’s on hands and knees looming over you. He grabs your wrists and hauls them up above your head, bringing them together so he’s able to hold them down with one hand against the top of the mattress so he can have one free and you giggle up at him.

“What’s gotten into you? You’re supposed to be tired, old man” you tease him but there’s no mirth in his eyes after he hears your words, no lingering smile on his lips. There’s desire, sure, but something else on his features. Subtle, whatever it is, but it’s there.

“Do you wanna fuck or not? Jesus,” he snaps. “I can’t do anything fucking right”

Oh, and there it is. It’s anger.

Your face scrunches up at his little outburst. That was not like Frankie at all. Not your sweet, loving, caring Frankie who adored you, this was someone else, someone you didn’t recognize.

“Get off me” you huff, easily wiggling your wrists free as he wasn’t holding too tightly and you bring your hands up to shove at his chest. His yelling at you instantly taking you out of the mood.

He does, immediately. He rolls off of you, grabs for his discarded boxers near the bottom of the bed and shoves them on. You do the same with your own underwear and also pull the sheet up to cover yourself, not wanting to feel any more vulnerable in front of him than you already do.

You have no idea what in the fuck that was all about, snapping at you like that when you thought everything was going rather well. He really was in a mood today apparently, and you didn’t care for it one bit. You’re already feeling overly emotional today, your period must be just around the corner or something.

The room falls silent. Frankie sits on the edge of the side of the bed, hands on his thighs and head hanging low while you lay back against the headboard, fingers twisting into the sheets, holding them around you like a shield. Tears well in your eyes, threatening to fall but you quickly blink them away before you bury your head in your knees.

“Do you want me to sleep downstairs?” He asks softly, the gruffness gone from his voice now. He sounds almost apologetic, though he’s still yet to apologize. He's not looking at you either, but your grateful for that at this moment.

You say nothing. Not trusting your voice just yet but the tiniest sniffle from your nose is near deafening in the stillness of the room. You quickly clear your throat in an attempt to cover the sound but it’s too late. Frankie’s head whips around back in your direction and he’s suddenly scrambling up the bed to wrap his arms around your lower back. Your legs lower instinctively to let him in and he lies over top of you with his head resting on your middle.

“Fuck, I’m sorry” he breathes out, voice muffled by the thin layer of the bed sheet as he buries his face into your stomach. “I’m an asshole”

“You’re not” you sigh. “Just - tell me what’s going on with you” you say calmly, hands now petting through his hair.

“Nothin’” he grumbles into your tummy.

“It’s not nothing, come on,” you try, a little softer this time. “You can tell me anything, you know I love you no matter what”

“Why?”

It's so quiet, so soft, mumbled against you that your ears almost didn’t even pick it up. Your heart breaks a little at the single uttered syllable.

“Hey,” you frown, grabbing both sides of his face in your hands and forcing him to look up at you. “Are you seriously asking why I love you? Where’s this coming from?” You ask, concerned. He’s been known to get down on himself from time to time but you’ve never seen him like this and it worries you.

He lets out a heavy sigh and rolls off of you, crawling up the bed to lay on his back next to you and rubs his hands over his face.

“Baby, talk to me” you press, turning to your side and curling up to his larger frame, hand stretching out to rest on his chest as your fingers play absently with the soft material of his t-shirt. “Did something happen?”

“Yeah, 40 happened” he groans, hand doing a sweeping motion down his body. “I mean, look at this” he shakes his head.

“Oh baby trust me, I look at this every day” you counter, an appreciative smile playing on your lips as your hand gently rubs into his chest.

“This perfect,” you pause to press a kiss into his cheek. “Sexy,” another kiss to his jaw. “Man of my dreams”

“Stop” he huffs, gently pushing you away. “Just don’t… say shit like that. It’s not true” he argues, flipping over onto his side to face away from you.

You know when to push him and when not to, and now is not one of those times. You’ll let him have his moment, knowing if you get too in his face about it he’s likely just going to shut down and you need him to be open with you if you’re going to get anywhere. So instead you just leave him be, but stay nestled into his side, your hand rubbing small circles into his back and shoulder blades, just a soft gesture to let him know you’re here and not going anywhere.

Long minutes pass and after a while you think maybe he’s fallen asleep, until you hear it. It’s barely audible, but it’s there. The tiniest whimper falls from his lips, followed by a quiet little sniffle before he buries his face into a pillow in an attempt to cover it up and your whole heart breaks in two.

“Frankie, baby” you soothe, pulling on his shoulder and forcing him to turn towards you. Surprisingly he doesn’t fight it, just lets you roll him over and he instantly buries his face in your neck once he’s facing you, unable to look you in the eyes. But you don’t need to see him, you can feel the hot tears on his cheeks as he presses into you and you wrap your arms around his shoulders a little tighter, one hand cradling the back of his head as he lets his emotions out.

“I love you, ok?” You whisper against his chocolate brown curls, your lips pressing a kiss to the side of his head. He says nothing, just nods his head against you that he knows you love him and he knows he’s being oversensitive but he just can’t help it.

“I wish you could see what I see” you murmur against him, still hugging him tightly to your body.

Franky gently pushes back from you slightly, quickly wiping at his eyes and collecting himself before his red-rimmed gaze settles on yours.

“I’m sorry I’m in a shit mood and taking it out on you, it’s not fair and you don’t deserve it” he apologizes, shaking his head slightly. “I’m just feeling down on myself I guess and I dragged you into it and I’m sorry”

“Is that what’s been going on all day?” You ask, genuinely curious. You’re starting to piece it together now, all the teasing he’s put up with all day, how he only seemed to be snapping at you when you complimented him or tried to take off his shirt tonight. Not to mention all his friends running around half naked in just their swim trunks all afternoon, most of whom kept themselves in very tip top shape. Maybe Frankie had grown a little softer since the two of you have been together but you loved it on him, his ‘dad bod’ physique. He has nothing to be embarrassed or ashamed of, as far as you’re concerned. But you suppose it’s hard not to feel self conscious when standing next to a shirtless Will, Benny or Santiago who all look like they could be models in some sort of hot firefighter calendar or something. None of them did anything for you though, Frankie would always hold your heart and your gaze, no matter who he was standing next to.

“I guess” Frankie sighs, fingers now picking at an imaginary thread on the blanket underneath you. “Sometimes I just wonder…” he trails off again and you frown.

“Wonder what?”

“Wonder what in the hell you’re doin’ with me” he sighs, throwing his hands up. “I’m a fuck-up. Forty years old and what have I accomplished in my life? I have a shit job, working for an asshole I can’t stand, flying tourists around and giving private lessons on the side to rich jerkoffs who don’t give a shit about learning anything about flying, just want a cool photo for their Instagram. Since I left the service I just feel like… Like I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing with my life anymore so I just haven’t done fucking anything. And you… god knows why you give me the time of day but you do and I just don’t ever feel like I’m enough. Least I could fucking do for you is go to the gym and take care of myself, god knows I need to eat healthier” He shakes his head and you’re unsure for a moment if he’s done beating himself up but before you even have a chance to articulate a response he starts up again.

“Like look at this!” He shouts suddenly, voice raised much higher than moments earlier as he rips his shirt off his head and sweeps his hand down his front. “How can you be in love with this, with someone who looks like this?! I… fuck’”

He doesn’t get any more words out, his hands flying to his face to hide his shame as he starts sobbing with how much hatred he apparently holds for himself and you can’t take it. You lurch forward, wrapping your arms around him and holding him as tightly to your body as possible. Thankfully he doesn’t push you away, just grabs onto you like you're his only lifeline, clinging to you with desperation.

“Frankie, my love, oh Frankie” you’re in tears now too, holding onto him for dear life so he can’t slip away from you. You won’t let him. Not this time.

You crawl into his lap, your legs wrapping around his waist and arms still around his neck like a needy spider monkey.

“I love you, so fucking much” you clarify, because you need him to hear you. “I’m sorry if I ever made you uncomfortable. I know I can get carried away sometimes but I guess I just thought you were okay with it, thought we were both into it. But I’ve never lied to you when I tell you how I feel about you or your body. Do you hear me, Francisco?” You ask and after a moment he nods his head just slightly, just once.

“I am crazy about you, whether you believe it or understand it. But if it makes you uncomfortable when I express my physical attraction to you the way that I do, then I'll stop. Or, you know, try to. Sometimes in the heat of the moment it might just come out but you can remind me and I swear I'll do my best. Just tell me what you need from me baby, whatever it is I’ll give it to you. I can’t lose you Frankie, I can’t!” Your tears flow even harder and Frankie’s grip around you tightens at your words.

“I know, I know” he murmurs softly. “Too fucking good for me” he reiterates quietly, but not in an argumentative way like he’d meant it earlier, more like he can’t believe you put up with his shit but he’s so glad that you do. You think maybe your words have sunk in because he's not arguing with you anymore, not berating himself, just absorbing everything. You decide to leave it be for now. You've said your peace, now you can only hope he'll believe your words and take everything you've said into consideration to fend off whatever demons are feasting inside of him. All you want is his happiness and you know that you can't be the one to solely give that to him, that he needs to find it within himself as well, but you're damn sure willing and hoping that he'll take the support you give him and that he'll let you be there at his side to continue to take on this journey of life together. If he wants to find a new job, or a new career even, you'd support him through that in every way you can. You'll do whatever is in your power to get him through this and you just hope now that he knows that.

You hold each other for several minutes, neither of you saying anything further, just taking whatever comfort you have left to offer one another. You don't push him for any more communication, assuming if he's not speaking it's because his thoughts are still a little all over the place and he still hasn't quite worked it all out for himself. He'll talk about it again when he's ready and whether that's tonight or tomorrow or next month, you'll wait for him. He's worth the wait, there's no doubt in your mind about that.

After a while Frankie shifts you both until he’s lied down on his back on the bed with you half draped over top of him and eventually sleep overcomes the tears and emotions and your breathing evens out as you both drift off within minutes of lying down, the full events of the day finally taking its toll on your weary bodies.

When you wake again the sun hasn’t quite risen to the sky but you know it’s only minutes away, not hours. You feel like you didn’t sleep at all. Your head is pounding like you’re the one who finished a gallon of tequila last night, not your boyfriend and his friends. Frankie is beside you, though you’ve more or less switched positions. You’re fully on your back with Frankie’s arm draped across your middle, his face buried into the juncture where your neck meets your shoulder and he snores softly. You’re glad he’s sleeping peacefully, god knows he needs it. You carefully extract yourself from him, needing to get up and use the bathroom, tossing on a pair of shorts and a tank top. As you pad across the plush carpeting and out to the hallway your mind spins a hundred different directions as you think about yesterday, about last night. You were both highly emotional but truth be told you’ve felt off for weeks. More tired. Bitchy. And you know you’ve been taking it out on Frankie even when he’s the last person that deserves it and who knows, maybe he thought you’ve been trying to push away from him and last night he just tried to do it himself before you got the chance to and he let his insecurities get the better of him. Of course that wasn’t your intention, you’ve never felt for anyone the way you feel about him and you meant every word last night when you told him you can’t lose him. You’ve just been a mess lately and you can’t really explain it other than you know it’s nothing to do with Frankie and certainly not his fault, he just takes the brunt of your ‘crazy’ because he’s the closest person to you. You don’t know what the fuck has been going on with you unless…

Shit.

You practically sprint the rest of the way to the bathroom down the hall, tossing open drawers and cupboards and medicine cabinets in a flurry as you look for that precious little white stick that might explain a whole hell of a lot that’s been going on with you.

“Hey” you softly call out from the doorway of the bedroom, leaning up against it with a large glass of water in hand. Frankie slowly stirs. He’s on his stomach now and raises his head to look at you through sleep-bleared eyes, wayward curls falling across his forehead.

“Hey” he rasps out, voice no doubt shot from all the talking and yelling and crying from last night.

This is what the water was for.

You cross the room and he immediately throws the blanket open, inviting you into his warm cocoon as he slightly sits up against the headboard. You hand him the water as you settle in next to his large warm frame and he chugs the entire glass in record time.

“Ah, thank you, I needed that” he says, clearing his throat and then reaching past you to place the glass on the nightstand before he wraps his arms around your shoulders and pulls you into his chest, his chin resting atop your head.

“How are you feeling?” You murmur into his chest, hand coming up to draw small shapes against his clavicle.

“Like a bit of a first class idiot, if I’m bein’ honest” he sighs and you squeeze your arms around him a little tighter.

“Don’t, babe” you tut, pressing a kiss to his chest. “You were feeling a lot yesterday and it obviously needed to come out. I’m glad it did. We need to be honest with each other, you know?” You tell him, tilting your head to look up at his face. He flashes the tiniest smile at you and leans down to press a kiss to the tip of your nose before you settle back against his chest.

“Some of the things I said last night though, I didn’t even mean. Not really…” he trails off, shaking his head like he’s trying to get his thoughts in order.

You push back from him slightly and up into a sitting position and turn to face him so the two of you can have a real conversation.

“Like what?”

He shrugs shyly and looks away, fingers fidgeting with the blanket around his waist. You hear a mumbled ‘dunno’ fall from his lips. You have a pretty good idea what he’s getting at but know that he’s too embarrassed to say it himself so you help him out, scooting a little closer and placing a hand on his naked chest before you let it slowly drift lower, fingertips dancing across his warm soft flesh and his eyes close and he lets out a content little sigh as he feels your hands on his body again.

“Last night I thought that maybe… I sometimes make you feel uncomfortable when we’re in bed with the attention I give and show you... Was that just insecure Frankie talking?” You ask softly. His eyes are still closed but he nods his head. Your hand rests on his stomach and you slide it upwards again and wrap it around his neck, your thumb brushing back and forth behind his ear.

“Sorry I basically called you a liar last night. That wasn’t fair of me” He tells you sincerely, finally opening his eyes to look back at yours. “I know you love me. All of me. God knows why, but you do” he finishes with a teasing smirk.

“I do love all of you. Every inch. And sometimes I just love showing you how much I do” you shrug.

“I know. And if I’m bein’ honest… I do… y’know, like it. I really like it. I just, yesterday, I don’t know what came over me. Just feeling sorry for myself I guess and wasn’t feeling… up to par, for you, and I guess I got a little too much in my own head. Shit I don’t know, guys teasing me all night, I probably had too much to drink and looking at those stupid pictures of me from when I was much younger and took better care of myself just had me feeling not very good about myself”

“Frankie, baby,” you begin, shifting your position so you can swing one knee over to the other side of his hips so you’re sitting on his lap on your knees facing him while he rests against the headboard. His hands immediately go to your hips and rest there, just holding you, while yours go to his shoulders.

“You never have to doubt for a moment how I feel about you. How I desire you. I need you to hear me on that” you tell him, staring into his eyes in hopes he doesn’t get too embarrassed and turn away from you again. To your delight, he doesn’t. He holds your gaze and his thumbs absently draw small circles on your hips. “I am in love with this Frankie, the one right in front of me. To me he’s sweet and perfect and yeah, he turns me on. Like, a fucking lot. So sorry, but you’re just gonna have to face facts, and thems the facts” you conclude teasingly and he lets out a little chuckle.

“Understood” he nods once before he pushes forward slightly and his mouth latches on to the side of your throat, gently kissing at your inviting flesh. Your head falls back and your hands travel up to hold the back of his head, fingers running through soft chestnut curls.

“There’s something else you said last night…” you begin, trailing off slightly as Frankie’s hot mouth on your skin attempts to distract you.

“Mmm?” He mumbles into your neck, not letting up from what he’s doing as he licks and nips and sucks at the supple flesh of your throat.

Despite wanting nothing more than for him to continue, your hands go to his chest and you gently push him back. He falls back against the headboard with a quiet thud and looks at you with a hint of confusion and worry in his gaze.

“You said you haven’t accomplished anything since leaving the military and well… I just wanted you to know that I am currently in possession of evidence that you have accomplished something very special. Might even be the most important thing you’ve done in your life” you shrug and he raises a curious eyebrow at you.

“Possess… what? What do you mean?”

Rather than spell it out for him, you take his large hand in two of yours and bring it to rest on your stomach, his palm flat across the span of your belly. It’s probably too early for a ‘bump’ just yet but you hold his hand there all the same and within seconds you watch as the realization dawns across his face. At first his brow furrows like he’s confused but then they perk up and his face splits into a giant grin that reaches his eyes and causes them to crinkle at the corners.

“Baby are you… are you serious?” He asks for confirmation and you simply nod your head.

“I mean, I think so. I’ve been feeling kinda off for a while and you my dear boyfriend were too sweet to call me out on any of my crazy shit” you add teasingly and huffs a little laugh but shakes his head. “Then it all kinda clicked into place when I woke up so I took a test this morning and it was positive” you shrug. “I’ll have to make a doctors appointment to be su-“

You don’t get the rest of the words out before Frankie is on you. He surges forward pressing his mouth to yours in a firm kiss before he moves to start peppering tiny little kisses all over your face and neck until you’re bubbling over with laughter as his facial scruff tickles your throat with his frantic movements.

“We’re having a baby?” He asks, eyes welled up with tears as he pushes back from you to stare into yours. He needs to hear you say it, make sure he’s not dreaming this moment. You had a close call together once before, hence the left over pregnancy tests in your bathroom cupboard but nothing came of it. Neither of you expressed disappointment or relief over the false alarm several months back, just kept on with your lives but now it felt different. At least for you. You felt… ready. Excited, even.

“We’re having a baby” you confirm, wide grin across your lips, ecstatic that Frankie is happy with this news.

“Oh my god” he breathes out, wrapping his arms around your back and pulling you tightly against his chest so he can bury his nose in your hair. “I'm gonna be a dad?”

“You’re gonna be a great dad” you clarify.

“Oh my god” he breathes out again, pulling you back tightly against him one last time.

“I’m so glad you’re happy about this” you blubber through a few tears, squeezing him back just as tightly. You really weren’t sure how this news would go over, especially given the events of last night and how Frankie currently felt about his position in life but you are incredibly relieved at how happy this news has made him. You weren’t planning this, like at all, but you suppose when you have as much sex as you and Frankie do, no matter how careful you are, it’s bound to happen.

“Of course I'm happy” Frankie murmurs into your shoulder. “I’m so fucking happy” you can feel a few stray tears fall against your skin and you smile, holding him impossibly tighter.

You stay there for several long moments, just letting everything sink in before Frankie speaks and breaks the silence. It’s quiet, muffled into the warmth of your skin as his face stays buried in your neck, but you hear it.

“Will you marry me?”

“What?” You breathe out in shock. You heard him, you know you heard exactly what he said, but… is this really happening?

“Will you-”

“I heard you” you quickly interrupt, gently pulling back from him enough so you can look at each other again. You put both hands on his face, searching for any traces of regret like maybe he just blurted that out because of the endorphins coursing through his body but he looks back at you only with pure love in those giant brown irises of his.

All the same, you need to be sure he’s absolutely sure and not just doing this because he thinks it’s ‘the right thing to do’. You want him to marry you because he wants to marry you, not because of any obligation he might feel. To be honest you’ve been waiting for a while for him to pop the question, you figured you’ve been together long enough, living together even for a while now but it hadn’t happened yet. You try not to feel too over excited that he’s asked you now, in case it’s for the wrong reasons, but you can’t help but feel how your heart practically soared the moment the words fell from his lips.

“And?...” Frankie asks hopefully and you realize it’s been several long seconds without you actually giving him an answer.

“Baby,” You sigh, your gaze glancing down for a moment and you feel his shoulders drop a little, like he’s already anticipating you saying no to him. “I would marry you in a damn heartbeat but… I just don’t want you to ask me now because you think you have to. This is a lot, I just don’t want to put any more pressure on you. I don’t expect you to suddenly feel ready to marry me because of this”

You try desperately to hold back the tears that threaten to fall. If he agrees with you and takes it back you won’t be mad with him but you know your heart will be just a little bit broken.

“Wait right here” he suddenly pipes up, taking your hands and pressing them into your lap before he extracts himself from the bed and runs over to the closet. You watch him closely, not exactly sure what he’s up to as he scavenges around at the top of the closet for a moment, rooting through a box you recognize that holds some of his military achievements that he said he didn’t want to hang up or have on display, a chapter of his life he had closed.

He seems to find what he’s been after and scurries back over to the bed, crawling across it on his knees until he’s back in front of you again and presses a small blue velvet box into your hands. You flip the lid open and a soft gasp leaves your lungs.

“This isn’t exactly how I wanted to do this” he shrugs. “I bought it weeks ago and I wanted to, you know, plan something big for you and then ask you but, I mean, what’s a bigger moment than this, right?”

Your eyes well up again (happy tears this time) as you stare down at the beautifully crafted diamond engagement ring that sparkles brightly despite the low lighting of your bedroom. The band is a beautiful rose gold, your favourite, and the cut of the diamond and style of the ring is one you’ve been dreaming about since you were a little girl. Clearly Frankie paid attention all those times you happened to pass by a jewelry store together.

“You’ve had this for weeks?” You ask through your tears, still not believing it, your dream actually coming true. Not only was Frankie asking you to marry him, but it was his idea and something he’d decided on long before he knew you were pregnant.

“Yeah I guess I’ll have to call off the marching band and the flash-mob dancers now though” he teases with a smirk. “Unless you want me to take it back and-” he goes to reach for the ring but you snatch the box out of reach, clutching it to your chest.

“Not on your life pal” you playfully threaten.

“Can I at least put it on you then?” he laughs. “That is, if you’re saying yes? Wait, let me…” he trails off and scoots off the bed again only to kneel down on one bent knee beside it. He reaches up and turns you so you’re facing him and a huge dopey smile spreads across your lips as you watch him want to do this at least somewhat properly. If anyone asks later you’ll leave out the part where he’s half naked when he popped the question.

“May I have that back, just for a second?” He asks and you oblige him, handing back the box.

He begins with saying your full name and your heart practically flutters in your chest as you take a deep breath, trying to keep your composure and get through this without being a weeping, blubbering mess.

“Would you make me the happiest man alive and be my wife?” he asks, slight tremble in his voice from his nerves and all you can do is give him a face splitting smile before you frantically nod your head and yank him up from the floor, crushing your mouth to his.

“Yes I’ll marry you Francisco Morales” you murmur against his lips between hungry kisses. “About damn time” you tease and he laughs at that as well. He knows he probably should have done this sooner but he’d been waiting to save up enough money to get you the perfect ring he knew you deserved.

Frankie regretfully pulls away from your mouth to carefully pull the ring from the box and place it on your finger before he holds both your hands in his and lets out a big sigh of relief.

“You make me so happy” he confesses, leaning down so his forehead rests against yours. “I’m sorry if I’ve ever given you any reason to doubt that, but you’re the best thing in my life. Best thing that’s ever happened to me and I’m gonna spend the rest of my life making sure that you and this little one feel the same way about me”

“I will always feel the same way about you Frankie” you promise, eyes slipping shut as another tear escapes which Frankie gently brushes away with the pad of his thumb.

“You’re sure you’re still gonna love me when I’m even more of a pain in the ass in a few months than I am now?” You ask playfully and Frankie huffs a laugh but nods his head affirmatively.

“We’re locked in now baby” Frankie affirms, gently twisting the ring around your finger. “It’s you and me”

“Plus one” you add, looking down to your tummy and Frankie laughs.

“Plus one” he confirms. “And maybe down the line… more than one?” he asks playfully, moving a little closer and nuzzling into your throat before he begins to plant hot little open-mouthed kisses there. You laugh wholeheartedly, your head tossing backwards. Leave it to Frankie to learn five minutes ago that you’re barely pregnant and already asking you if you want another. You really did love him with all your heart and you don’t think you’ve ever been happier than in this moment.

And it turns out that was the truth, that was your happiest moment, until about seven months later a new one replaces it as you hold your beautiful daughter in your arms for the first time. Frankie is at your side with his forehead resting against yours as a tiny hand clutches around one of his large fingers, the one that happens to have a shiny gold band around it now, and tears flow freely down his cheeks. He’d barely gotten there in time for your unexpectedly two-week-early delivery, but he’d made it. Thankfully he was well enough known around the hospital by this point that they allowed him to land his bird on the helipad on the roof before he jumped out and let his co-pilot take over for him as he rushed inside to find you.

It turned out Frankie had found his calling not long after your little unexpected surprise all those months ago. His reflections on the direction his life was going, coupled with your exciting news of having an addition to your family, gave him the push he needed to have his career together in a way that was both rewarding and challenging to him and after a few months of long days and intense training he was accepted into the local Red Cross chapter’s Search and Rescue Program as a Lead Pilot. He loved his job again. He was proud of what he did and most importantly knew that his family could be proud of him too. It allowed him to give back and to serve his community and country the way he always felt he was meant for, except now he could do it and still be home in time for dinner most nights, not shipping out to god knows where for months at a time as he had done in the service.

“Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Morales” the doctor beamed at the two of you, though neither of you could take your gaze off the tiny bundle in your arms long enough to look back at her. Frankie mumbled a polite ‘thank you’ towards her before pressing a kiss into your temple.

“You did it baby” he murmurs against your skin and you can feel the smile spread across his lips.

“We did it baby” you correct him, turning your head just slightly to press a kiss to the underside of his chin. “We made this beautiful, perfect angel” you sigh, nuzzling back in towards your daughter, inhaling that euphoric ‘new baby smell’ you’d up until now only read about but now completely understood.

“My girls” Frankie sighs, heart swelling with content at how goddamn lucky he got in his life.

“Thank you for loving me” he confesses, lips pressed to your temple.

Taglist: @nerdieforpedro @suzdin @iamasaddie @boliv-jenta @chronically-ghosted @vabeachazn @anotherpedrolover @axshadows @pedroshotwifey @survivingandenduring @theywhowriteandknowthings

#frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales x reader #pedro pascal cinematic universe #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #frankie morales #triple frontier #ppcu #ppcu fanfiction

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notachair · 28 days

Text

Since atla is again having an extra surge of popularity, I'm shooting my shot:

[ID: (Rest of image description in alt). At the bottom of the image sits the text: "Zuko: Okay. Well, I can't remember how it starts, but the punchline is "leaf me alone, I'm bushed."" ID end].

Did we ever find out what the setup for this joke was? I feel kinda haunted by it. If not- anyone wanna make their best or worst guesses?

edit: I now know what "I'm bushed" mean, but go ahead anyway 👍

haunted thoughts in tags ↓

#atla #the way I was early out for this next surge in popularity 🤗 I was in a different phase by 2020 #it's not like it haunts me day and night but it does bother me thinking back on it. please tell me I'm not the only one 🧍‍♂️#I'll have to reblog the 'closure is a myth' post jk #what kind... of joke is it? leaf pun on leave i get. I'm bushed however I dont get. it implies the punchline sayer is a bush at least I #think. but what prompts the 'i am bushed' I dont get. is it not contextual? is it a phrase ive not connected like 'leaf me alone'?#is there anotger layer between leaf and bush? again what kind of joke (social:joke purpose. what is funny? only pun?) + (in-joke set up)?#is it about the kind of bush it is? is it between two plants? the plant & someone picking on the plant like a teamaker collecting?#is it about a plant that has grown into bush and thus (somethingsomething)?? is it not a plant at all? other elements? iroh *what*.#if the creators actually had a setup in mind- I fear it will be lame. but yet I am haunted #it must have cracked someone up for him to try relay it. (set in term of endearment here) 🧍‍♂️👈 *poking him*#either way. me 🤝 zuko @ being bad at remembering & relaying jokes 😁👍#at least in that instance anyway #I mainly stick to irony & sarcasm. running along with an mistaken assumption or replying w something silly & blowing it out of proportions.#puns if I'm lucky. ect. fun when I can reference it later tho I try not to overdo it. not like I'll likely remember it for too long anyway #now to lay in wajt see if anything happens....#avatar the last airbender #zuko #atla zuko #a:tla #my rambles #its lie and not lay is it not.....

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imtotallyokandnormal · 7 months

Note

I would kill for some hurt/comfort headcannons about what John Doe does when he realizes that stabbing humans does in fact kill them. I assume he probably panicked real bad when he figures that out, and frantically resets the timeline. Probably would be really careful with You after that.

UGH NO YOU'RE SO RIGHT THOUGH OK OK I'M ON IT ANON I'M RIDING THE HURT COMFORT TRAIN LET'S GO

This ended up being way more sad than comforting but I hope you like it anyway I did my best

Reader: gn reader

Warnings: stabbing, death, angst, description of a corpse and blood, it gets pretty fucked up and sad actually

Image link: howdy!

》☆John Doe After Killing You☆《

- It was the moments after that made him realize. An accumulating number of seconds where you laid limp, staring up at him with those eyes. Those horribly glassy eyes, once full of emotion and now hollow of anything at all.

- After his frantic breathing slowed enough, he would grab your shoulders again, starting on a second wind of manic praise before he noticed something.

- You weren't moving.

- At first they thought you were playing some kind of human joke they didn't understand, chuckling and sitting you up as your lifeless body flopped over. "Oh you are funny, dearest! I may not understand the joke- but you're very good at staying still!"

- When you didn't respond, they tilted their head like a confused puppy. "Dearest? Could you explain the joke to me? I don't really understand."

- The silence was deafening. All you did was lay there, head flopped over with your neck bent at a weird angle. In the silence John took notice to something else; you haven't taken a breath this entire time.

- That's when the panic set in. At first they were in denial, trying to shake you awake as your limbs only swayed under their own gravity. More blood spills from your gaping maw and John's heartbeat quickens again, not from excitement but from fear, a primal fear erupting in him as he continues to shake and grab and plead for you to please wake up.

- But you don't. All you do is lay there. Cold, bloody and dead.

- The guilt ravaged him, all he could do was hold your bloody corpse close and howl in pain as he squeezed you. Or what you used to be, rather.

- He had promised himself to love you, to cherish you. He didn't think his actions were that of harm, he thought they were of love. To be able to see the inside of you, to be close enough that their hands can feel your blood pumping out from your heart, to feel your life force in their hands, becoming one in a way. But they found out too late that humans can only take so much.

- They could only sob violently as they cradled you, tugging at their hair and vowing over and over and over again that they can't let this happen again, not ever again.

- The reset was different.

- Seeing you, moving, breathing...it was different now. A hesitancy came when he stalked you at work, scared that he might hurt you again. Showing his love unbridled and uncontrolled led to the scene that flashes in front of him whenever he sees your face now. The smile he loves only to be interrupted by a vision of blood. So, so much blood.

- It took many resets for them to even let themselves touch you again. Eventually the loneliness became too much. Once you got home one day, there was suddenly a pair of arms wrapped tightly around you, squeezing as if you might slip away as easily as the wind.

- John didn't say anything to you then. They didn't need to. The vow they had made was apparent.

- John would never, never see you that way again.

#normal headcanons!#john doe x you #john doe x reader #john doe #john doe visual novel #house hunted visual novel #house hunted game #x reader #f/o community #f/o imagines #imagine your f/o #f/o #tw death #angst #tw angst #gn reader

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zgvlt · 1 year

Text

sending your crush a survey form hcs part 4 second years x reader (separate) -> kalim, jamil, silver

general tags: gn reader, fluff + attempt at humor, sfw, not beta read, mix of text and images (for images, alt text/image description available)

other parts in this series

character: KALIM AL-ASIM premise/trope: sending your best friend a crush form. it's mutual but everybody... sort of just assumed that the two of you were already dating already

HOW HE (AND JAMIL) REACTS WHEN YOU SEND THE FORM LINK

Kalim's amused by many things, music one of the more significant interests he has. So, when he learned that he could customize the ringtones and notification sounds he has for all of his friends, he spends a lot of time assigning a tune for each person in his life.

It's why he immediately jumps up and searches for his phone when he hears the song he specifically chose for you.

Jamil gets it for him the second he recognizes the song playing because he's heard it so much it's ingrained in his memory.

(Kalim does not mute his phone unless specifically asked to. Usually for emergency purposes but Jamil doubts messaging you 24/7 qualifies as such).

Jamil checks the message briefly to make sure you're not getting hacked (it said you sent over a link and, well, there's been an increase in MagiCam accounts getting hacked lately...)

Jamil wishes he never checked it. When he gives Kalim his phone, he wants to walk away immediately. He does NOT want to be on the receiving end of the gushing, no way, absolutely not.

Even if it is a little cute, like some kind of fairy tale that he might have liked in his youth, he just wants to have some peace, and peace did not include Kalim yapping about how lovely and cool and amazing he thought you were.

Kalim's talking about how much he loves you and Jamil's immediate instinct is to sigh and ask why he won't tell you instead. You're his significant other or some other label anyway, right?

Kalim blinks in confusion, his fingers pausing the sticker spam he was inevitably doing.

"We're not dating though?" Kalim says. Jamil pops a blood vessel. "I wish we were! We could go on all sorts of cool dates, we could go visit my family, and then..."

Jamil tells him they literally already do that. They go on cool dates all the time. His family knows who you are (partially his fault, he let them know who Kalim spends all his time with these days, but obviously Kalim's fault for talking about you, too).

Jamil exits the room and tells Kalim to read the questions properly. He also says congratulations in advance.

Kalim's not dumb by any means, so when he realizes what the form is all about he's cheering and giggling to himself, like he wants to get his flying carpet to take a quick ride while, simultaneously, go get his drum kit so he could play his sudden excitement out.

His answers are equally excitable as your questions. Though it's mostly just vibes, he does get some really sweet answers out there about how much he likes you.

HOW HE ANSWERS THE QUESTIONS

AFTER HE ANSWERS THE FORM

Your relationship had been a long time coming... At least, that was how you and Kalim saw it. The two of you were so intertwined in each other's lives that spending your futures together just made sense.

For everyone else, they had thought the relationship was already there in the first place, so imagine their surprise when Kalim announces that there was going to be a party, a party to celebrate his new relationship, with you as the guest of honor.

They call Jamil a traitor for not telling them you and Kalim hadn't actually been dating all this time. Jamil wants to explain that even he didn't know, but he decides it's more fun to pretend he was the outlier who knew the truth all along.

He's planning a celebration for you, actively participating in the creation and setting up process because it's important to him that you would enjoy. He's taking into account what food and drinks you enjoy, how much people you want to attend and who should be in attendance, the music you want playing, even the colors of the decorations.

Initially, he wanted the party to be a surprise but he can't resist calling you. He wants this to be a perfect gift for you! He has to make sure you like each and every thing, so he calls you every few minutes to ask about even the tiniest of details.

It also probably helps that he just... really likes talking and listening to you.

Speaking of talking... While he keeps many of the specifics to himself, he's also talking about how nice and great and cute you are for confessing to him that way. It becomes the talk of the dorm, and Jamil won't be surprised if it becomes the modern day love story of their homeland.

Kalim's the one who seeks you out too, picking you up from wherever you said you were to bring you back to the dorm. He's so excited that he's (finally!) your partner!

The two of you spend a few minutes gushing about each other, and then he says,

"Alright, let's go!" He pulls you along with him, grasping your hand in his. "Let's celebrate the start of our love together!"

character: JAMIL VIPER premise/trope: sending your boyfriend, who you miss very much and is very busy, a crush form to remind him that your feelings have not waned one bit

HOW HE REACTS WHEN YOU SEND THE FORM LINK

You're wonderful to him, really, so you have the decency to send the link a little later into the evening, around the time you know he'd have less chores to do, more academics in turn. It's a time you know he'll allow himself to check his phone, and you know your message will go read.

You tell him you don't have to open the link immediately, to only do it when he's free.

Jamil sees the form file name and title and, well, he thinks it's time for him to wrap up his evening immediately. If he's to abide by your request, that is, to answer the form when he missed you... That would mean answering as soon as possible.

JAMIL : I don't know how to react. Should I call you corny or sweet for pulling a stunt like this?

He tells you that, but the reality is that his body has already decided how to react for him. His face feels too warm for comfort (which says a lot, considering he's rather used to the heat already).

He's hiding his face with his hood on the way to his room, and even when he's in the privacy of his quarters he can't help but want to cover up his face a little longer.

Conflicted between immediately getting back to you (at least, sending in his answers before you go to sleep) and preparing for bed, he ultimately decides to save the best for last, getting his heart to calm down as he undoes his hair and takes off his jewelry.

When he reads through the questions, he goes from being ready to pass out to doing leg kicks in bed and burying his face in his pillow (because he changed from his uniform, therefore no more hood).

Jamil answers the questions a little bluntly (with some quips aimed towards you here and there), but since it's something private, something he's sure you won't share with anyone else, he's comfortable giving you the affection you seek (and which he, too, misses giving and receiving).

(He also, just, has a thing for imagining you as flustered as you make him, so he likes to flirt a little bit. Oops 😊😁🤭)

HOW HE ANSWERS THE QUESTIONS

AFTER HE ANSWERS THE FORM

Morning come, everybody notices that Jamil is in SUCH a good mood, so good he can't even hide it.

It's surprising that he's acknowledging anyone at all considering, upon closer inspection, Jamil's eyebags looked... well, noticeable. Especially since he hadn't put on any makeup yet.

Kalim's usually the mood maker in Scarabia, but Jamil's genuine smiles are infectious, and soon enough everyone else is smiling, too, even so early in the morning.

Though they do wish he would talk to them a little bit more instead of spending his time on his phone (another rarity), but overall they're just happy that Jamil is happy.

(They all consider making some kind of prayer or offering to the Sevens now. Whatever or whoever is making their vice dorm leader having a wonderful morning, may it continue to do so forever)

As for Jamil... He knows he spent a good amount of time talking to you last night, but upon waking his natural instinct is to greet you immediately.

You're his treasure, his love, so if he goes to sleep thinking of you instead of dreading the morning come, and wakes thinking of you instead of the pile of work he'll inevitably face, who can really blame him for being visibly content?

JAMIL : I know I said I'd be too busy this week to commit to a date, but I don't think I can wait that long to see you. JAMIL : I'll find an excuse for Kalim, so... JAMIL : Shall we go on a date tonight?

character: SILVER premise/trope: sending Silver the form should have been relatively uneventful... if not for his well-meaning but nosy family

HOW HE (and the rest of Diasomnia) REACTS WHEN YOU SEND THE FORM LINK

The thing is... Silver's asleep when you send the link. That's not your fault of course, nor is it is. However, the two of you just have the most unfortunate timing. Maybe you shouldn't have sent multiple follow up messages, then it would not have alerted anyone else.

Silver's phone has multiple beeps and, well, his fae companions are a little more sensitive to sound than others. It's inevitable that they'd either be annoyed or intrigued by the constant notifications.

Sebek just wanted to mute it, really! However, the screen lights up when he puts it in front of his face, and he sees your name, and he instinctively says it out loud, and then it's all over.

Lilia and Malleus are taking peeks at the small device as well, trying to make sense of the cut-off previews of each message you sent.

Sebek is... trying to be a good person so he's doing that thing where he covers his face with his hand, but leaves a gap between his fingers for him to read the texts.

They want to wake up Silver because SILVER'S LOVE LIFE IS ON THE LINE WHAT IF YOU DELETE YOUR MESSAGES AND DECIDE YOU REGRET YOUR (admittedly unique) CONFESSION.

Lilia's talking about taking one for the team and he activates the face recognition unlock on Silver's phone. He's not going to look through what you sent or anything (yet) but he does send you a text to let you know that Silver's still asleep and to not worry about why he's not responding.

Well, that stops the message influx.

Ironically, it's the silence that wakes Silver up, and he's immediately suspicious when he sees three fae crowd over his cellphone.

When he finds out you've been sending texts he's very apologetic to have kept you waiting, and when he realizes just what you sent he's extra apologetic... and flustered. Not only did you send him such a thing, but his father, Malleus, and Sebek all got a glimpse of it, too.

SILVER : I'm sorry for taking so long. I feel asleep again. SILVER : I have control of my phone now, in case you were worried about... the others being overly curious again. SILVER : I'll answer what you sent and get back to you as quickly as I can.

Silver's answers are serious and straight to the point, but not to the point that it lacks affection. Rather, he manages to weave in his perception and feelings for you rather seamlessly.

HOW HE ANSWERS THE QUESTIONS

AFTER HE ANSWERS THE FORM

He just meant to let the trio outside his room (he knows they're there, they are not being very discrete) know that he was going to meet up with you for a little bit, maybe talk about the next steps of any relationship you could cultivate in person.

However, they're bombarding him with apologies for snooping (he's already forgiven them, honestly) and questions about whether he's finally having his first romance.

Even Sebek, once he says his piece about making sure to allocate enough time for training and academics, gets pretty into it.

Silver clarifies that he's going to meet up with you specifically to discuss what the two of you should do with your mutual feelings, and then they're talking about what courtship offering he could give and what attire he should wear and what song he could perform ad he loves them, really, but it's a little bit too much.

He lets them know he'll leave as he is and that he'll be back for dinner. Lilia jokes that he should cook something special for the occasion and to bring you along to dine with them.

He runs before he can be pressured into agreeing. Malleus and Sebek look like they want to join him instead of facing Lilia's cooking.

You're talking to a bird when he sees you. The sight makes Silver smile.

"The birds have a great eye. Those colors suit you," Silver says. He makes sure the stem has no thorns before he tucks it between your ear. "Perhaps the forest critters have taken a liking to you, too."

masterlist | end notes

[ 1 ] Compared to the previous crush forms (aside from Floyd's), these ones sort of have the theme of getting people involved in the process. I feel like if I were to make or receive one, I would be sharing them or letting my friends take a look, so it felt realistic enough to have some characters actually tell people about the form and not just keep it to themselves

[ 2 ] I don't think I have to say this, but don't violate people's privacy with their phone in real life HAHAHAHA this is for plot purposes only

< special tags >

@merotwst here bestie ito na yung tag mo HAHAHAHA surry napatagal ng post hihi

If anyone wants to be tagged for when a specific character's form gets posted feel free to let me know :> I can tag you too

#twst x reader #twst silver x reader #silver x reader #jamil viper x reader #kalim al asim x reader #twst headcanons #twst hcs #twisted wonderland x reader #nathya twst writing #twst #twisted wonderland #twst imagines #twst silver #jamil viper #kalim al asim

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damon-loves-pie · 1 year

Text

Very First Date.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x female reader.

Word count: About 5.1k words.

Warnings: 18+, Reader has a bad date with another guy who kept making sexual advances towards her.(Nothing detailed though.), Steve talks slightly about a fight with his father, reader mentions not having a good relationship with hers either for a moment. (Nothing really descriptive here either.) Other than that, its mostly a FLUFFYYYY PIECE.

I DID IGNORE THE LAYOUT OF STEVE’S ROOF FOR THE ENDING BECAUSE I WANTED THEM TO LOOK AT STARS.

Summary: Steve and the reader are best friends after having worked at Scoops together. Reader went out on a date with a guy which ended horribly and found herself at Steve’s to tell him about it and complain about how she hadn’t had a good date in months. Steve takes matters into his own hands since he’s into the reader and takes her out for a night wanting to remind her how she should be treated by a guy.

Author’s note: THIS IS MY FIRST STEVE HARRINGTON IMAGINE I HAVE FULLY FINISHED! Usually I would stop halfway through, worried they weren’t going to fit the image I had created in my head. I am feeling a lot better tonight, after having been in the ER the other night. And I’m surprised to be sharing something around 8pm instead of 2 am.

I did proofread but I’m sorry if I missed something, this was overall just a fluffy imagine I did because I saw a great Steve edit on Tiktok.

PLEASE CLICK ON MY ACCOUNT AND CHECKOUT MY OTHER WORK, I mostly write for Eddie and can’t add my writing masterlist because I’ve been having issues with being shadow banned.

But enjoy!

------

Steve was having a horrible night.

His first Friday off in three weeks and he was at home moping alone.

First off you were out on a date with another guy. Not like it actually matters that it bothered him, because you two were just friends and that was it.

But on top of that, Robin canceled on him because Vickie asked her if she was free.

Which don't get him wrong, he was happy for his friend. But fuck did he not want to be alone tonight.

He thought about calling up Linda or Heidi, in the end deciding against it. He was tired of flings that weren't going anywhere.

Little did Steve know though, you were having as bad of night.

The date you were on had to be one of the worst you have ever been on.

You didn't even last past thirty minutes into it.

You told the boy you were heading to the ladies' room and snuck off quickly paying for a meal that wasn't even out yet before leaving.

Driving towards the Harrington home, you were ready to complain to your friends about how horrible another date went.

You felt defeated, like you were done with men.

Partially because the fact most of them were animals, and also just because they weren't the one you wanted anyway.

You wanted the boy who you were heading towards, the boy who felt like home to you when you needed someone to make you feel better.

You wanted Steve Harrington.

But you knew your friendship meant too much to you to even think about ruining it over some stupid feelings you had, so you kept them buried.

Opening the unlocked door you yell out into the home, trying to pinpoint where the two were.

"Steve? Robin?" You ask, closing the door behind you quietly hoping to not scare either of them.

From the kitchen Steve heard your voice, confused as he spread the mayo over the bread of the sandwich he was making.

"(Y/N)?" He questions, because he thought you would be on your date right now.

Steve felt his heart start beating faster as he realized you were here and not on your date, mind racing with different answers to why that might be.

Taking off your shoes and bag you respond to the boy by answering a loud,

"Yes," before leaving your items by the door.

Steve hears your muffled voice through the wall, smiling to himself. He was happy to know maybe he wouldn't be alone tonight. Even if it was just a friend, who he wish would be more.

But it still felt like a win because you were here instead of with some other guy.

"Kitchen." Steve tells you, hearing your steps coming through the hallway into the big kitchen.

You walk in to see him making a single sandwich, not sandwiches, just a sandwich.

"Is that what you're having for dinner?" You laugh confused on how that was going to fill him up. Hopping your body up, you take a seat on the counter behind him.

Steve shrugs, a light blush creeping on his face because he really wasn't expecting to see anyone tonight.

He was down and wanted something simple that didn't take much effort.

"I don't feel like making anything else." Steve says, finishing his meal.

You giggle lightly as the boy turns around, sandwich small in his big hands. His face still a little red as he took a bite.

"You're going to be hungry again in like an hour." You tell him playfully, watching his eyes twinkle when they meet yours.

Chewing, he took in your outfit.

You were wearing a light pink plaid skirt with a low cut black top.

You looked beautiful to him, the sound of your giggling through the air making him nervous.

Steve shakes the feeling off before shrugging.

"Then I'll order take out." He tells you, chucking slightly before taking another bite.

You nod, understanding. Your eyes roamed around the room to see if you could find any remnants of Robin around.

Not seeing anything you turn your stare back towards him.

"Where's Robin?" You ask him, frowning slightly because you thought they were both off tonight.

You see Steve's body soften a little bit at your question.

"She canceled on me, Vickie asked to see her. Which good for her actually, one of us deserved to have a fun night." Steve answers, taking the last bite of his sandwich.

Steve's heart pound as he brought his eyes back up to yours.

"Are you supposed to be on a date?" He asks you, praying it was canceled and you hadn't gone.

Your body tensed while a sigh slipped your lips, yours legs automatically kicking back and forth slightly.

"That's why I'm here. I wanted to tell both of you how horrible it was, and when I say horrible Steve, I mean horrible." You tell him, shivering at the thought of earlier.

Steve's head popped up a little bit as he tried to not look excited about the fact your date hadn't gone well.

While he was happy for that, he was also wondering what could of made it so bad.

He questioned if maybe he would have to go kick the guy's ass.

"I thought you were out with that one guy from science club? Um, Jackson or whatever." Steve says, smirking internally because he knew the guy's name. But didn't want to seem like he was that important to him.

It's not like he hadn't been questioning the last few days, multiple different times, what that guy had that he didn't.

Meeting your eyes with Steve's, you tap your fingers nervously on the counter.

"Jacob, his name was Jacob." You tell him, watching him nod.

"And I had gone on the date, but god I didn't expect it to go so bad so fast." You finish, cringing as you see Steve's brow crinkle.

"What do you mean?" Steve asks you, arms crossing his chest.

Your body langue continues to be anxious, your feet still swinging as you tilt your head back before taking a deep breath.

"I mean literally not even fifteen minutes into the date he was trying to feel up my skirt. Not to mention all the sexual advances he kept making and nasty things he was saying. The whole situation just made me uncomfortable." You tell him honestly, seeing Steve grimace.

He didn't want you to go out with anyone else, but you didn't deserve that to happen.

"He always seemed so um." Steve speaks, snapping his fingers for the word.

"Innocent?" You finish, watching him nod in agreement.

"That's the word." He says, pointing out a finger.

"That's why I agreed to go out with him, I thought maybe this one wouldn't be a pervert so fast in. Not that I'm even against sleeping with someone on the first date, but fuck at least let us get through dinner." You groan, eyes rolling.

"Did you get through dinner?" He asks while you shake your head.

"No, I told him I had to go to the bathroom then went to the register to pay, leaving to come here. Didn't touch my food or anything since it wasn't out yet." You say truthfully, you didn't want to risk waiting a second longer there.

Steve rolls his eyes playfully.

"You should of left him to pay for it." Steve chuckles, lifting his gaze to yours a smile on his mouth.

"I should of, but I just wanted out of there." You shake your your head, laughing lightly.

"I just want one good date, I legit haven't been a good first date in months." You sigh, looking down at your feet.

Steve sits there for a second staring at you, idea sparking in his head.

You were dressed for a date still, and he was dressed since he was originally supposed to hang out with Robin.

"Are you hungry?" He asks, raising an eyebrow, leaning his head back slightly.

"What?" You ask him, bringing your gaze to his.

"Are you hungry? Because you're right that sandwich didn't do anything." Steve shrugs, trying to be nonchalant.

You purse yours lips together for a moment.

"I could eat." You nod, watching him lean off the counter.

Steve smiles, nodding.

"Then lets go." He motions, holding his hand out to you.

Raising an eyebrow you take his hand, getting off the counter.

"Go where?" You ask, fixing your skirt.

You were confused on what Steve was doing, we're you two going to go out to eat? Get take out and come back here? What was on his mind, you wondered.

"Let's go show you that there are still good first dates in the world." Steve says seriously, grabbing his keys off the counter.

He decided even if he couldn't officially take you out without admitting his feelings, he could still show you what it's like. Friends show friends a good time right?

You freeze in place, wondering if you were dreaming.

"First date?" You squeak as he laughs, turning back towards you.

"Yes, date. Come on, friends can take each other out." He smiles at you.

"Now let me show you that even though you will have some bad dates, there will be good ones waiting for you." He finishes, motioning to the front door.

Standing there you see him standing tall, muscles sticking out of his blue stripped shirt while he held the door open for you.

It wouldn't hurt to let him show you a good time you thought.

After all friends can have friend dates, right?

"I guess I'm still dressed for it." You agree, following him as he goes to lock the front door behind you two.

Steve felt himself stumbling slightly to find the key before leading you to the car.

After all he had to make it seem like this wasn't as big of deal to him as it really was.

"Just sit back and enjoy the night because you're right, I have only heard you talk about how bad your dates have been lately. And you deserve a good one." Steve tells you, opening the passenger door for you to get in.

A blush comes across your cheeks while you take a seat.

"Already starting huh?" You tease, smile on your lips.

"Like I said, I'm going to show you a good first date." He smiles, closing the door behind you.

Steve starts driving, eventually pulling into a gas station down the road.

He didn't really need gas for what he had planned, but he needed an excuse to stop to get you something he would get you if he was taking you on a real first date.

"I need to get some gas before we go anywhere." Steve says, hopping out of the car leaving you to wait nervously.

You sat there, hand tapping on your thigh, wondering where tonight was going to take you two.

You've liked him for the past couple of years since working together at Scoops, not that you didn't think he was cute before that.

Just you guys never really spoke before in high school other than some small talk here and there.

You wondered if maybe you should stop this, not wanting to confuse yourself too much by not being able to keep a straight head after this.

You didn't want to lose him over a silly crush.

But you couldn't help but wonder if you should let it play through, because it could possibly be the closest thing you'll get to a real date with Steve Harrington.

Turning your head back towards the opening gas station door, out comes a smiling Steve with an arm behind his back.

Still smiling he opens the car door, leaning in.

Steve watched your face turn awestruck as he brought his arm around, a single red rose for you in his hands.

He tucks a piece of his hair behind his ear nervously after you take the flower from his hand.

You fingers lightly running over the petals delicately.

"Normally I would of got you flowers before hand, but this date caught me off guard." Steve chuckles, seeing you smile softly.

"Steve, you didn't have t-" You start, getting cut off by the boy protesting you to let the night just happen.

"(Y/N), like I said just sit back and relax and just enjoy the night. That way you'll remember to not settle for anyone's shit during another date you'll have." He tells you, getting out to pump the gas he bought.

Twirling the flower in your hand, you were a giddy mess.

Not even into the actual so called date yet, and it was already one of the best dates you've had.

No one had ever given you flowers on a date.

You've gotten some for a few holidays, after begging for them of course. But you had never experienced anyone willingly wanting to give you something so simple but so special.

Shaking off the butterflies in your stomach, you turn towards Steve after he gets back into the car.

"Thank you for this Steve." You tell him honestly, seeing his eyes glimmer as he starts the car.

Steve's heart exploded at how happy you were about the flower.

He would buy you all the flowers in the world if it meant to see you with that look on your face the rest of his life.

He couldn't wait for the rest of the night, knowing if you enjoyed this then you were going to have a great time tonight.

"Just wait till you see the rest of the date." Steve winks teasingly through the rearview mirror, pulling out of the gas station.

The drive was quiet besides the light humming from Steve as he listened to the music playing through the radio.

Both of you were as nervous as the other, unknowingly of course.

Steve drove out into a small town, smaller than Hawkins, about 20 minutes out.

He pulled into a little ma and pa pizzeria, the red glowing lights shining in the night as you took in the little brick building.

Steve was a gentleman as always, demanding to open the car door for you, which you gladly accepted.

You decided you were going to let yourself enjoy every minute of this, because deep down you hoped maybe he would enjoy it as much as you.

He lead you inside, both of you picking a small little booth in the corner as you waited for a waitress to arrive.

The place was small but cute.

All of the booths were hardwood with white and black checkered floor tiles underneath.

The walls were hardwood as well, red checkered table cloths giving the place a much needed pop of color.

There was even cute hanging lights above each table, giving them all a personal romantic glow.

Bringing your eyes to Steve, you smile.

"How often do you come here?" You ask him softly.

Taken aback a bit, Steve feels nervous wondering if you meant if he brough other dates here.

He wouldn't ever dare to bring anyone else here, besides Robin maybe. But other than that, no one was important enough to bring here other than you.

"By myself? Probably once a week, with anyone else? Never." Steve says honestly, watching your eyes widen a bit.

"Really? How did you find this place then?" You ask him, leaning your chin onto your hand.

Steve nods, taking a look at his hands before picking his arm to rest it on the table.

"It happened a few weeks after graduation actually." He tells you, not wanting to make eye contact.

"I uh had got in a really bad fight with my father about my future, or well lack there of according to him. And I took one of his many checkbooks, thinking about signing me a fat check and just leaving. I started to drive, not really caring about anything just being fueled by anger and ended up stopping here to breathe. Now the rest is history, and I've been coming here ever since." Steve explains, playing with his hands nervously.

He had never told anyone about that night.

Your heart aches for him, not having a good relationship with your parents either.

Not always seeing eye to eye on your future as well.

"Tell me you at least used his checkbook to buy your dinner that night?" You ask him, placing your hand on his.

Steve chuckles, bringing his eyes to yours.

"No, but I should have. It would of been the least he could do." Steve smiles, while you give him a light squeeze.

"Why didn't you ever tell me about that?" You say quietly, intertwining your hand with his.

"I think because until recently, I actually thought he was right." He says honestly, both of your hearts beating fast from the electricity running between your fingers.

You could swear if you let go then lightning would hit the lamp above you.

"Steve your father wasn't right at all, and I'm happy you didn't leave because if you would have then we wouldn't be here, and I can't stand the thought that you might not have came into my life." You tell him truthfully.

If he would of left, you would of been working at Scoops with who knows instead of Steve.

That summer set the path to where you two were today.

"Really?" He asks as you nod.

"Really." You smile, seeing your waitress approaching from the side.

Reviewing the menu took forever for both of you, Steve said everything he had tried previously had been great. And on top of that it was kind of late with it being about 7:30 when you arrived, and both of you not having really ate much earlier didn't help when deciding what to order.

But you two settled on a plate of mozzarella sticks to start with and a medium house special to share with extra green peppers.

The conversation over dinner was alive, no small talk having to happen at all since you two knew each other so well. There were no awkward pauses or laughs, it was fun and energetic.

It was a great change of pace for both of you, since both of you had been on dates that were more than less boring lately.

You two were laughing loudly as you walked out of the restaurant.

The leftover pizza box hugged against your chest while Steve opened your door for you again.

"Steve thank you for sharing this place with me and what it means to you. It was truly one of the better dates I've been on." You tell him as he takes a seat.

Mentally high-fiving himself, he was happy to know you enjoyed what he had planned so far.

But was lowkey hurt you thought that this was all to his date with you.

He looks over, pouting jokingly with a hand over his heart.

"Why are you talking like it's over? We still have more to do till it's done." Steve says, glimmer in his eyes.

"What do you mean there's more?" You ask him, hint of curiosity in your voice, watching the car back out of the parking lot.

"I mean, I don't only come here for the pizza. There's also an awesome ice cream parlor down the road that has the best malts. Which I know you love right?" He asks, already knowing the answer because you go to the ice cream shop in town every payday of yours.

"You're right, I do love a good butterscotch malt." You laugh, seeing a smile form on his face.

"Yeah so just let me do my thing and make sure you have a fun night okay? I hate to say it but you will probably be getting home late tonight because it's already almost nine." He nods, finger pointing over to the clock on the dash.

"You trying to get me to the spend the night Harrington?" You joke teasingly, turning your body so your crossed legs were facing him.

He was right, your mom locked the door at ten because she had to be up by four am and didn't want to be awakened by the door slamming.

If you weren't home by then it was up to you to find a place to stay, especially since you got your key privileges taken away years ago because you kept losing them.

Your mom is convinced someone who finds the silver key will somehow know it belonged to your front door.

"Hey, then it was a good first date." He says playfully, pulling into the gravel drive of what you guessed to be the ice cream shop.

"But yes, more than likely by the time we get home your mom will have the door locked. So you will probably have to crash at mine." Steve tells you truthfully, opening the door to get out of the car.

After looking over the menu you ended up ordering what you and Steve already knew you were going to, a butterscotch malt.

The girl at the window handed you two your malts before you sat down at one of the tables outside.

"So did you find this place the night you found the pizzeria?" You ask him, bringing the straw to your mouth.

"Uh no actually, I found this a few months later. I came out here to eat one night but decided I still didn't feel like going home so I went exploring the town a little more." He tells you, watching your eyes roll back as you taste the ice cream.

"You've been holding out on me Harrington, you've been coming here for a little over a year and didn't think to tell me their malts are better than ours?" You laugh, pointing your straw at him.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He chuckles, hands and malt going to the air defensively.

"So I am really the first girl you brought out here?" You ask teasingly, brow raised.

"You are." He nods, pulling his straw away from his lips.

"I didn't want to take you on any other date I would take anyone else. Especially since I do know you, and know what you like so it's a little easier for me to think of something you would enjoy." Steve says honestly, seeing you blush lightly.

"Steve that is honestly so sweet, and you really don't know how much that means to me." You tell him, watching him stand up.

"Which is why I have one more thing to share with you before the end of this date." He smiles, taking your hand into his to follow him.

"What is it?" You ask him, feeling your heart beat as you talk quietly towards his car.

The feeling of your fingers intertwined for the second time that night, making you want to pass out.

"I didn't tell you anything else we were doing, why do you think I'll tell you now?." Steve chuckles, lifting his face slightly as he bumps his shoulder with yours.

"You're right," you agree while he sets his malt on top of the car so he can open the door.

Both of your fingers lingering when it comes time to let go.

The car ride home felt heavy with tension while you two wondered if you were imagining the tension in the air.

Steve wanted so badly to rest his hand on your thigh, and have you place your hand on top of his to hold him while you two drove back home.

But he wasn't sure if he would be crossing a line.

So he just longed for the feeling of your skin pressed against his.

Driving through Hawkins you glanced over at Steve, confused when his house came into view.

"Just trust me." He tells you, parking the vehicle.

Steve walks past you when you're inside, placing the pizza box on the counter along with the empty malt cups before motioning for you to follow him up the stairs.

Walking up to the hallway of his bedroom, you felt yourself get shaky.

He wasn't trying to get you in bed right?

Not that you would hate to do that, you thought.

But just you thought he would put more effort into it if this was really his goal.

"Steve?" You ask him, slowing your movements behind him.

Steve turns halfway back to see you glancing between him and his bedroom.

"Oh, no no no. It's not like that (Y/N), just keep following me." He chuckles, shaking his head.

He stops at the hallway window, messing around with the screen before it pops off.

"Come on," Steve tells you, placing the screen against the wall before climbing through.

Peering out you felt your heart beat fast as you climbed out onto the flat park of the roof to see Steve leaning back on the tiled roof by the window. Taking a seat next to him you lay down, arms behind your head looking at the stars above.

You two were towards the back of the house, the trees and pool surrounding you.

The reflection of the moonlight bounced off the pool, it was all dark besides the dimmed lights under the water of the pool.

It was peaceful out here, breathing in the fresh air.

"I would come out here during high school to just think sometimes." Steve shares, glancing over.

"It's beautiful, I would of too." You nod, happy he shown you more about him today.

"Well you can come whenever you need, bad date? Come here. Bad day in general? Come here." He shrugs slightly, sighing to himself as he realized the date was soon coming to an end.

"I might take you up on it sometime." You tell him, sitting up to glance down at the pool.

"You know where the spare is, and that my door is always open to you." Steve chuckles, sitting up.

"Is this the last part of the date?" You ask him, bringing your gaze back up to meet his.

"Yeah." Steve nods.

"How about I add something and we go for a swim?" You suggest, tilting your head towards the pool, seeing him raise an eyebrow.

"Are you wanting to go for a swim?" He asks you.

"Yeah, why not? It's a nice night." You shrug, smirking slightly.

"You don't have a swimsuit." Steve reminds you.

"So what? Literally I feel like a bikini is the same thing as my bra and underwear, just different materials." You laugh, standing up to go inside down to the pool.

Pulling off your shirt, you glance down at him.

"You coming?" You ask, seeing him get flustered.

"Ye-yeah" Steve stutters, standing up.

You were right he thought, it wasn't much different besides the materials.

Both of you make it down to the pool, kicking off your shoes before you let your skirt and shirt fall onto the cement.

"Meet you in there Harrington?" You smile, running to jump into the pool.

The water surrounded you as you submerged beneath. Your fingers keeping the air trapped in your lungs while they plugged your nose.

A gasp escapes your lips when you come back to the surface.

Steve was standing there with his shoes and jeans off, nervous about getting it to the water.

"Come on take off your shirt Harrington and get in the water." You call out teasingly.

"I'm coming, I'm coming." He laughs, reaching to pull the shirt off from behind his neck.

You start whistling and hollering as his torso becomes revealed, Steve's face turning red for the millionth time that night.

"You're been working out Steve." You tease, watching him jump into the water.

His tall frame disappearing into the water before coming back up.

"Is that way of you saying I look good?" Steve chuckles, shaking his hair like a dog, causing you to squeal from the water hitting you.

"Well duh, I have eyes. I'm not blind." You laugh watching him splash towards you.

Moving quickly, you scream at the cold water hitting your back.

"Hey, hey, hey. I said let's swim, not splash." You screech, trying to swim away.

"I think you're forgetting you're in the water with a guy who was on the swim team." He laughs, following while he splashes you more.

"Steve, stop." You laugh, turning back to splash him.

The sounds of both of you laughing and the water moving echoes into the open air.

"Never." He jokes, going to grab your arm.

"Steve don't you dare dunk me." You scream, feeling him overpower you while he pulls you close.

The feeling of his strong arms wrapped around you distracted you as he pulls you down with him in the water before bringing both of you back to the surface.

"God I hate you Harrington." You laugh, wiping the chorine filled water off your eyes.

"No you don't." Steve smiles, arms still wrapped around you.

"Steve, don't please." You scream again, feeling him spin with you in temptation while your arms automatically wrapped around his neck in fear.

"Okay, I won't. But did you at least have fun tonight?" Steve smiles, arms still holding you as he moves in the water.

"I did. Actually, I think it was the best first date I've ever been on." You say honestly, looking up to his eyes. His wet hair framing his face as his grin widens.

"You really think so?" He asks, looking down at you.

"I do." You nod nervously, feeling your back hit the wall of the pool making you realize you were still really close together.

"I wish it could of been like an actual first date though." You laugh shyly, one of your hands moving to rest on his chest while the other lingers on around his neck to play with his hair lightly between your fingers.

"Do you want to consider it an actual date?" Steve asks, chest moving harshly up and down under your finger tips.

"Would it be alright if I did?" You ask, biting your lip slightly.

"As long as you would let me take you out again," He smiles, his eyes twinkling while the water droplets rolled down his chest.

"On a date date right?" You ask, smirk forming.

"If I'm being honest, I was treating this as a date date." He tells you.

"I've liked you for a while (Y/N), but I was nervous about asking you out so I thought this was the only way it would happen." Steve continues honestly, picking you up a little higher.

"I've liked you for a while too Harington, and actually thought the same thing about this date. When you offered I thought this may be my only chance to get taken out by you." You smile, wrapping your legs tighter around him.

"Well how about we make up for lost time starting tomorrow with breakfast?" He asks, bringing his face down closer to yours.

"That works for me." You tell him, grinning into the kiss as your lips connect with his.

-----

Thank you for reading!

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x female reader #Steve harrington flugg #steve harrington smut #steve harrington one shot #steve stranger things #steve harrington x yn #steve harrington fic #joe keery imagine #steve harrington x plus size reader #joe keery #joe keery x female reader

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heystephen · 9 months

Text

2023 swiftie survey results!

first of all, i want to thank everybody who took part in this and helped spread it to increase sample size. i put this together expecting to get 200 or so responses, but at the time of closing the survey, it had received 1,009 responses! so that's really awesome. the survey posed the following questions:

which era did you become a fan?

which album is your favorite?

what are your top three songs from each album?

what is your absolute favorite song by taylor?

i asked those questions for a few reasons. one being, i wondered if nostalgia plays a factor in peoples' favorite albums, or if people tend to favor the album related to the era that they became a fan. i also wondered what the true fan favorites of the albums could be, and what are the 'underrated' or lower tiered tracks. lastly, every so often a publication comes out with their own rankings of 'the best taylor swift songs of all time' and we all lose our minds because they're always so!! wrong!!!! so i wanted to see what it would look like if there was a swiftie-sourced list of favorite songs by her. anyway intro aside, here's the results below the cut, and brace yourselves!

NOTE: i couldn't find a way on google doc to change the colors on the pie charts otherwise i would've made them album color coded. i will also provide small descriptions of the data for those who have trouble reading the data from the charts, or can't see the images.

so it looks like most people became fans during the fearless era, which is just nearly tied with the debut era. the 1989 era comes in third, followed by speak now, red, folklore/evermore, reputation, lover and then midnights in that order.

the most popularly voted album for the favorite albums was folklore. speak now came in second place, then reputation in third. the rest of the albums came out ranked as evermore, then 1989, then lover, then midnights, then fearless, then the debut. yes, the debut has a teeny tiny little pie slice between midnights and fearless, it's really there if you squint.

the top 3 debut tracks were our song, should’ve said no and picture to burn. the most unpopular debut track was the pop remix of teardrops on my guitar. not too surprising although i thought stay beautiful was more of a fan fave than that.

the top 3 fearless tracks were the way i loved you, fearless and you belong with me. the most unpopular fearless track was superstar. (☹️) but shout out to my sweet baby hey stephen for doing better than i hoped!

the top 3 speak now tracks were long live, haunted and enchanted. this was maybe the most surprising one because i expected last kiss to be in the top 3! the most unpopular speak now track was superman.

the top 3 tracks for red were all too well (ten minute version), holy ground and state of grace. the last time came out more popular than i anticipated, while sad beautiful tragic didn’t quite get as much love as i thought it would. the most unpopular red track was run feat. ed sheeran, with just 8 votes. but again, it just proves that every song is beloved by someone.

so for 1989, the top 3 tracks were clean, style and new romantics. the most unpopular track was bad blood. i think this was pretty expected, people tend to gravitate toward the remix rather than the album version. over all, this one came out fully as i’d expect.

oh, getaway car. you never let the rest of the tracks on this album stand a chance in the running. the top tracks for reputation were getaway car by a mile, call it what you want and delicate. again, another interesting one. has call it what you want always been this popular? and of course, the most unpopular track was end game feat. future and ed sheeran.

just like getaway car, cruel summer absolutely jumped in the lead and took off running. the top 3 tracks for lover were cruel summer, death by a thousand cute and cornelia street. the archer also came out very popular and i think the tour performance has lended enormously to that, which i love. the most unpopular track was me! feat. brendon urie.. which i feared would happen :/

just like james, you guys couldn’t choose between august and betty, ‘cause the top two tracks for folklore were august and cardigan! my tears ricochet came in third place. the most unpopular folklore track was epiphany.

CONT. IN PART TWO DUE TO IMAGE LIMIT

#hold on for part 2 w/ evermore and midnights!

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forever-rogue · 2 years

Note

Hey I was thinking maybe a request. Where Eddie survived but is self conscious about his wounds. Takes the reader sometime to convince Eddie that she doesn't see him differently.

AN | Set in the world in which Eddie is alive because he is! Or else! Anyways, this is soft, soft, soft, and broke and fixed my heart at the same time 🥰

Warnings | Language, Non-graphic description of scarring

Pairing | Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2.9k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Your back was killing you from sitting in the uncomfortable, stiff hospital chair for hours on end, hunched over as you read your book. You could have left, probably should have left, but you found yourself unable and unwilling. The rhythmic and continuous beeping of the various monitors that he was hooked up to were slowly lulling you to sleep but you refused to give in to them. You knew the moment you fell asleep was the moment he would wake up. You wanted to be there when he did, present and alert.

Peeling your eyes from your book, you found him still in his deep slumber, his hair even curlier and messier than normal, skin pale and covered in various bandages. His lips were chapped and parted slightly as his chest rose and fell in a steady pattern. But he was here; he was here and alive and that was all that mattered right now. An idea suddenly struck - one that would hopefully keep you awake and maybe he’d hear it too. You turned back to the weathered and well worn pages of your copy of The Fellowship of the Ring, quietly reading the passage you had stopped on:

All that is gold does not glitter,

Not all those who wander are lost;

The old that is strong does not wither,

Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,

A light from the shadows shall spring;

Renewed shall be blade that was broken,

The crownless again shall be king.

You were about to continue when you heard a soft sound coming from next to you before something brushed against your leg. You had been so invested in the pages that the touch caught you off guard and you almost jumped out of your chair, quietly squealing in surprise. It was the sound of his soft, weak laughter that brought you back into reality as you found that familiar pair of soft brown eyes watched you intently. He was awake.

“The Riddle of Strider,” his voice was hoarse and scratchy but distinctively him, “haven’t read that in a while. I guess it’s fitting since we made it through Mordor.”

“Eddie,” his name fell from your lips, soft and delicate, and before you could help it, tears had welled up and run down your cheeks, “y-you’re awake.”

“But at what cost?” despite the pain you were sure he was in, he still managed to make a joke. You laughed lightly before dropping to your knees at his side, brushing a few errant, rogue curls out of his face, “hi.”

“Hi,” you echoed, gently taking his hand in yours, “never thought I would be so happy to see you, Munson.”

“Mhmm,” you could tell that he was still tired, still worn and run down but fuck. At least he was okay, “what happened? I’m here…I thought I…I thought I was gonna die.”

“You really think we would let that happen?” you whispered, trying to keep the horrible images of when you were sure that he was going to die in your arms out of your mind, “never.”

“She saved you,” you turned around and found Dustin standing in the doorway, along with Steve and Robin. Before Dustin could stop himself he ran over and gave Eddie the best hug he could without hurting him, “you wouldn’t be here without her.”

“You saved me huh?” his tired grin was stretching across his face as he gave your hand a gentle squeeze, “I guess I owe you a life-debt.”

“You really think I was going to let a horde of demobats get you?” you teased, “if you’re going down by anyone’s hand, it’s going to be mine. You dumb, foolish, brave man.”

“Dumb and foolish yes,” he said, causing Robin and Steve to laugh quietly, “I don’t know about brave.”

“I - we do,” you insisted, “you, Eddie Munson, are a hero. And now everyone knows that too.”

“A hero, huh?”

“Don’t let it get to your head, Munson,” Steve reached down and gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze, “don’t want you getting too cocky.”

“Me? Never,” you snorted at him as he weakly stuck out his tongue, “what a warm welcome. Glad I came back for this.”

“I’m going to go and let them know you’re awake,” you stood up and yawned, “be back in a few.”

Once you were out of the room, Robin took the seat you had been occupying and gave him a serious look. She was glad that her new found friend was alive and well, and even more concerned about the fact that her friends continued to be seemingly oblivious, “she’s been here the entire time you have, you know. She barely even left to go shower or eat. She’s read you about a thousand books. She wanted to be here right when you woke up.”

“I…that sounds like her,” he agreed, a warm flush rising up on his pale skin, “she does too much for me. I owe her everything.”

“You really do,” Dustin agreed, shooting a wink at Robin, “maybe sometimes all it takes is a near death experience to see how things really are. Like the fact that you’re in l-”

Before he could finish his sentence, you walked back in with a nurse, chatting animatedly and looking better than you had in weeks. You caught Eddie’s eye and gave him a small wink as the nurse chittered over him, immediately asking him a million questions as she made some notes on her clipboard. Normally he might have been bothered by all the attention, but right now it all felt…right.

“We’ll leave you guys to it,” Steve pointedly looked at Robin and Dustin as they siddled over to him, “we’ll call Wayne. Maybe see you tonight at the Wheelers’?”

“We’ll see,” you promised, “depending on when he can leave and how he’s feeling. Thank you guys.”

You gave them each a hug, something that had come to have so much more meaning and power than you’d ever thought they would. Something that you could be deprived of in an instant, something you vowed to never take for granted again. You couldn’t wait to give him one again, one that would hopefully tell him all he ever needed to know.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Eds! I’m here!” you let yourself in his trailer with the key you’d had for years, arms filled with a few grocery bags of snacks and treats you knew he loved. You set everything down in the kitchen, frowning when you didn’t hear a response, “Eddie?”

“Bathroom,” you heard him call out softly. A wave of relief washed over you when you realized he was okay, but his tone suggested otherwise. You padded silently down the hall and stopped in front of the door before gently rapping your knuckles against it.

“Eds,” you kept your voice gentle, not wanting to scare him despite your knocking. He’d been more sensitive and easily overwhelmed the past few weeks since he’d been out of the hospital - not that you could blame him in the slightest over that, “I brought some snacks and rented a few movies. Maybe we just have a movie marathon today. Or we can do whatever you want - maybe go for a walk or go to the lake?”

He remained silent for a few moments, but you could hear him moving around in there. You tried to hold back your sigh, but doing so only made your eyes sting with tears. You knew he was hurting, but nothing you did seemed to make it better. You just wanted to make it all better for him; if you could have taken the burden from him you would have in a heartbeat, “Eddie…”

“Can you please just go?” the fact that his voice shook with each word caused you to exhale sharply. You wanted to just barge in there and wrap him up in your arms but you knew that would just make things worse right now, “please. I-I’m sorry.”

“Okay,” you whispered as you put your palm lightly against the door, wishing he could feel your touch, “okay, Eds. Whatever you need. I’ll put away the food and go. Please call me if you need anything. We’re having game night later, at the Byers’ this time. If you want to come over…or I can give you a ride. Just…call me if you need anything. Please, Eddie.”

You heard his shuffling and pacing stop before he sighed lightly. It was a few seconds before you heard him quickly murmur a gentle, “okay.”

You let a few beats of silence pass between the two of you before walking back down the small hallway and into the kitchen. You slowly put everything away and left the movies on the counter where he would easily find them. It was with a heavy heart that you walked out and locked the door behind you. Part of you wanted to go back in there and refuse to leave, but you knew he just needed time. He knew you were always there for him, just as he had always been for you. Right now it just felt all wrong - terrible - and you wanted your Eddie back.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The phone in your room rang, the sound shrill and loud in the stillness of the night. You almost jumped at the sound, opening your eyes in surprise before you turned on your bedside lamp. It was almost three in the morning according to the bright red numbers displayed on the alarm clock - who on earth would be calling at this time?

Oh. You blinked away the bleariness in your eyes before grabbing the handset and pressing it closely to your ear, “hello?”

“H-hi,” the fact that it was his voice on the other end of the line made you feel a million times better and you let out a small sigh of relief, “I’m sorry for calling so late. Fuck, I shouldn’t have woken you up.”

“You are the only person I will allow to wake me up,” you promised softly, “is everything okay, Eds?”

“Can you come over?” his voice was low and quiet, “please? I…I-”

“I’ll be there in fifteen,” you were already crawling out of bed in search of your converse, deciding to forgo getting dressed. Eddie had seen you a million different ways over the years, he could handle you in ratty old pajama bottoms and one of his shirts you’d stolen at some point, “okay? Just hang tight.”

“Thank you.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

By the time you were at Eddie’s and letting yourself inside, it had been just about ten minutes since he’d called. You’d sneaked out of the house quickly and probably broke more than a few speed limits. But none of that mattered right now, only he did.

“Eddie?” you called softly as you walked towards his bedroom, where you could see some soft light spilling out of the slightly cracked door. You knocked softly before stepping inside, “Eddie?”

“‘s okay,” he promised as the door opened and you found himself standing in front of you. This was the first time you’d properly seen him in weeks. It took every bit of strength not to tackle him in a giant hug, “thank you for coming.”

“There’s nothing to thank me for,” you hesitantly reached over, wanting to see if he’d allow you to touch him. When he didn’t flinch out of your touch, you put your hand on his face and gently brushed your thumb over his cheek, “what’s wrong, Eds?”

“I just…” he broke down in tears before he could even get a full sentence out, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his body. You were surprised at the reaction, the sudden shift in his temperament but gently hugged him back, letting him take what he needed, “I feel so broken.”

“Eddie,” you whispered his name and pulled back so you could look at him. You cradled his face in your hands and tenderly wiped away his tears, “you are not broken. So far from it. What you went through what we all did in varying degrees was a lot. Honestly, I’d be more surprised if you said you felt completely fine. I don’t think any of us are fine right now, but we’ve got each other and we’ll get better in time. You have me - us, all of us, Henderson, Harrington, Robin, the Wheelers, the Byers, the Sinclairs, the Hoppers. All of us are probably way more fucked up anyone should be, but at least we’re fucked up together.”

He made a small sound, something adjacent to a laugh as he lightly nodded. You leaned in and pressed your forehead against his, trying to get to him to understand just how deeply loved and cared for he was, “I haven’t been able to sleep well, eat, and I…I can’t stand to look at myself anymore.”

“Well, I can try to help however I can, even if it’s just being here while you take a nap. I’ll keep you safe, Eddie. I’ll always protect you,” you whispered, “just tell me what you need and I will do it.”

“I keep thinking about that night,” he sighed, “how they tore up my skin and…I know eventually it’ll be better, but my body…I look like a freak. More than I normally do.”

“Eddie,” you took a step back and squeezed his hand, your heart feeling like it had been torn into pieces at his words, “you are beautiful, so beautiful, just as you always have been. You have always been my favorite thing in this world to look at. Then, now, and always. Scars don’t matter, if anything they tell a story. And these tell a story that you, Eddie Munson, are a hero. That everyone in this stupid town, in this world has to thank for keeping them safe. Eddie, you are a hero, you’ve always been my hero. You've always kept me safe and made me feel protected and loved. This time it’s my turn to give you all of that back.”

“I don’t think I could ever deserve you,” he gave you a teary-eyed smile.

“That’s what best friends are for,” you replied with a small smile. You wished it was more, you wished you could tell me the extent of how deep your love for him was. But now was not the time to push or make him feel pressured to respond in a certain way, “you’re stuck with me for life, Munson. We pinky promised when we were twelve, and we can’t ever break that.”

“No,” he whispered, “we can’t.”

A silence filled the air between the two of you, comfortable and easy just like it always had. You took his hand and gently pulled him towards the bathroom, and he followed without hesitation. Once you stepped into the small space, you touched the hem of his shirt and looked at him with gentle eyes, “may I?”

“Yes,” he swallowed thickly but nodded, “I trust you.”

Your touch was gentle and delicate as you pulled his shirt up and he held up his arms to let you take it off of him. The soft fabric of his well worn shirt was almost silent as it fell to the floor and you looked him over. You could see the trepidation in his eyes as he tried to gauge your reaction. You touched his cheek before giving him a sweet smile that caused a sense of relief to flood his veins, “just as I thought. Beautiful as always.”

He remained silent and you traced your fingers over one of the scars near his collarbone. It was a sobering reminder that you’d almost lost him. You were happy for the scar because it meant he was here, he was alive. You don’t know if you could have faced a future without him. He inhaled shakily as you ghosted the tips of your fingers gently over his body.

“Come on,” after a few minutes of quietness during which he’d pulled you back into his arms, you pulled back, “let’s get you a warm shower and then you can try to get some sleep.”

“I don’t know if I can…s-sleep.”

“Will you try?” he gnawed on his bottom lip as he nodded slowly, “I’ll stay with you and make sure you’re okay. I promise.”

“What about you?”

“I can sleep later,” you insisted, “once you’ve rested a bit. Eddie…let me take care of you…please. You’re not in this alone and I’ll always be here for you.”

You turned on the shower and went to grab a clean towel and set of pajamas for him, before ushering him towards the warm stream of water.

“I…I love you,” he whispered as you looked at him with that sweet, innocent expression he adored more than anything.

“I know,” you smiled lightly, “I love you too.”

“No…like…I love you,” he repeated and your whole face felt like it was on fire, “n-not just as my best friend.”

“I know,” you insisted again, your heart feeling better - lighter - than it had in weeks, “I love you.”

“Yeah?” he asked shyly as you offered him a shy smile, “will you…get in? With me?”

“Yeah,” there wasn’t a moment of hesitation in your response, “you have me, whatever and however you need. Forever.”

“Forever,” Eddie touched your face this time, his heart beating rapidly but for the first time in what seemed like ages, it wasn’t due to anxiety or nerves, “I can do forever.”

“Me too, Eddie Munson. Me too.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x reader #st

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jccatstudios · 5 months

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I have been following your soc comic adaptation and it just so good!!! I love how you draw them!

I have just one question: Why did you not include Inej's opening musings about Kaz on the first page? (Kaz Brekker didn't need a reason etc) I actually really like how there is not text on the first two pages, it's really atmospheric and moody so this really is not a criticism, I don't want to insult you. I guess I was just wondering what the thought process behind that was?

Oh, I've been wanting to talk about this for a while! Buckle up, this is gonna be one of my long comic rants. (Also, no offense taken at all! Anyone's welcome to question my artistic choices and I'm always happy to take critique, even though that isn't your intention.)

So, the thing is I actually planned on including that first paragraph into the comic! Here's when I first shared the thumbnails on here. Just for the sake of this post, I'll insert them here too.

The boxes are meant to be where excerpts of that introduction would go. When I was creating the thumbnails, I was thinking about how iconic these lines were and how well they introduce the world and characters. I even finished the pages with the intention to include those lines. This is from my original csp file.

When I lettered it all out, I felt like something wasn't right...? Hard to explain. I wanted silence for the opening and the narration took that away. I then thought about the reader who'd go into this without reading the novel first, wondering if they'd be thinking, Who's this Kaz Brekker guy? Is it this character on the page? It's clearer in the book, but I didn't think it paired well with what I drew. I didn't want any confusion. It's also Inej's chapter, and while Kaz's parts take up most of it, I still wanted it to feel like her POV and her story. We can hold off officially meeting Kaz until page four.

But the main reason I took it out comes down to my philosophy when it comes to comic adaptations. I believe that an adaptation should use the original story in the best way for the secondary medium. A comic adaptation should play to the strength of comics, not the original source material.

Time and time again, I see a lot of comic adaptations of books try to use a book's strength instead of a comic's. When that happens, you get pages upon pages of narration boxes and exposition that could've easily been told in a single panel's image. If you want to read excerpts from the original novel, go do that! They're beautiful and well-crafted and you should be reading the original anyway! If you're making a comic adaptation, make a comic, not an illustrated version of the novel (that's a whole field of its own).

This whole thing really ties well into what I'm doing for Chapter 3. Kaz is such an internal character, his chapters have a lot more exposition that isn't setting description or character actions. I've had to do a lot more of my own writing for this chapter than the last just to turn that exposition into his own voice as an internal monologue. Sometimes, it's just a change from "he" to "I," but there are other times I've had to write new dialogue and find ways to naturally flow between thoughts. If I didn't do the work to adapt the expository text and instead just put in narration boxes of text from the book, there would be a greater disconnect between the reader and Kaz. Third-person limited works great in books and doesn't separate the readers from the story, but in comics, first-person internal dialogue keeps the readers inside the scene better.

If I were to redo Chapter 2, I think I would try to find a way to incorporate the information from the chapter intro better. I think by losing the intro I initially planned to include, I didn't establish certain ideas very well. Ketterdam and Kerch are established later on pages 4 and 5, but I don't think I ever go back and mention The Barrel. Also, the idea that Kaz is deliberate, even if his reputation says otherwise, is important too. I've made sure to fix this kind of issue in Chapter 3 and keep record of what kind of information I'm losing as I adapt it.

#comic rant over!#thanks for the ask I really love talking about this stuff #soc comic adaptation #asks #comics talk

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cosmomoore · 1 month

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Lenore Loomington is an incredibly boring doll that lacks any semblance of what makes a Monster High character, a Monster High character.

She is 100% an OC of her designer, which wouldn't be a problem, but the character exists for the sole purpose to sell merchandise, which I recognize is the entire point, but she feels like such an obvious cash grab.

Lenore doesn't fit into the larger narrative, she's just a ghost, but barely? Her design language doesn't reflect what is expected of ghost designs within the MH G1 universe and her colors already belong to other characters. Her outfit isn't worth the price (the lack of hems on a doll that costs $75 USD is simply unacceptable) and it also looks like it was "inspired" by a certain LOL OMG doll.

If anything she is proof that her designer cannot design within the brand identity that Monster High G1 established. It's unfortunate because someone with as much industry experience as Rebeculame (I'll go into why I call her that later*) is unable to adhere to those guidelines. If I were to not able to adhere to the brand identity of clients in my design field, I wouldn't be employed.

She legitimately looks like if someone fed a description of Amanita into an image generator (sans green skin).

Given all of that, it's not really surprising that she hasn't sold out yet. Personally, I think the most interesting things about her are her pet (that looks like a Fakemon) and her lantern. Her shoes are underwhelming by G1 standards and Mattel's old "the premium display packaging justifies the price" does not apply here.

Anyways, I know critiques of MH have been done to death, but I figured I'd put my two cents about Lenore out into the open. If you like her, that is great! It's honestly wonderful that she is still available and didn't sell out to upsellers immediately.

I'll never not be critical of Monster High (and furthermore Mattel as a whole). For all the good that G3 has done, there is plenty of bad (and outright sus). Their handling of the G1 brand has been all over the place, but it has largely uninteresting (to me personally) at best and incredibly underwhelming at worst. Their handling of G1 drops has been incredibly frustrating and Mattel Creations' as a whole (on the doll side of things) is a joke.

I'll never get over the fact that G1 was revived with licensed tie-ins featuring a homophobic clown and the ghosts of murdered children. If that wasn't sign of how I've felt about its revival as a whole, I don't know what is.

*The main reason I call her that is because she signed large amounts of SDCC exclusive dolls that were obviously going to be resold by upsellers and, when criticized for it, acted entirely unprofessional. Well that and how dirty she did G3 Clawdeen...

#dolls #doll #toys #toy #monster high #mattel #lenore loomington #critique

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vagabond-umlaut · 11 months

Text

ramé 3.0

love.

a word everyone spells as l-o-v-e, except one certain young sorcerer – to whom it appears h-a-p-p-y, to whom it appears h-a-v-o-c – to whom it appears the shape of the letters of your name.

you, on the other hand, forget how to spell when the same word is before you – a fact which, your admirer reckons, would have been a major problem were he not he – that is, were he not the one and only 'gojo satoru'.

and thus begins, the plan.

and thus begins, the six steps to catch one's crush's eye — by the six eyes.

|3| gather info on your crush.

[READ 1.0 HERE AND 2.0 HERE!]

▸ student!gojo satoru x student!reader; fem!reader; the reader's backstory & CT are revealed; angry protective satoru; reader is a mean protector [both of herself and of satoru]; she openly and unashamedly digs in this side of satoru too; warning alert of there being a terrible rumor-monger relative, horrible heartless higher-ups & a fight [your favourite wins, dw]. not-really-angst... not-really-fluff either... somewhere in the between... the ending's fluffy for sure! [this is my fave chapter so far too! :))]

▸ aniki = older brother in japanese

▸ find other parts of 'ramé' and other [stand-alone] fics set in the same universe as this work here! anyways, image, divider & characters ain't mine. pls don't plagiarize, translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️

"oh, you wouldn't want to be friends with her."

the comment cuts through the air with a noisy chuckle and a raucous chorus of giggles - gojo's knuckles grow white with the painfully tight grip he has on the glass of mocktail.

suguru shoots him a contrite face from the other side of the crowd, mouthing an apology with a helpless shrug. the boy looks away from his best friend to throw a glance at the two girls a few seats away.

a beat passes wherein shoko and utahime share a brief look, and the former speaks up, an odd edge to her voice as she leans forwards, a smirk directed at the boy. "and why wouldn't geto? she seems like a pretty nice girl to be friends with."

your cousin scoffs. gojo seriously wishes there wasn't a strict rule set by his father for the clan members of not meddling in the other clans' matters, to maintain an image of neutrality and amiability.

(it's not like he prefers not to break rules or is afraid of his father, the boy thinks grimly as he gulps the last sip of his mocktail and returns the glass to the table with a thud. it's far from being either of those.

it's just that with a small response from him in this matter, you will be dragged under the elders' scrutiny; your friendship with him too will be - and that's something he would never wish upon you. so the boy stays quiet, opting to-)

"what the fuck did you just say?"

the chitter-chatter dies down to a deathly silence in an instant.

rising from his seat, gojo stalks towards the boy sitting on the couch. from the background, he can hear few voices urge him to stop, to get back, with repeated 'satoru, no' and 'satoru, relax' - but the boy finds not a cell in his body wanting to heed those voices. marching right up to your cousin, who shoots him a pathetically fake smirk now, the boy repeats himself, "what. did. you. just. say."

the target of the query huffs a chuckle, drunk and stinking - and your friend realizes now just how much of a diluted description of him you gave him the other day. the guy isn't just some petty irritating relative of yours, he is a fucking bastard.

a fucking bastard who's going to get beaten into a pulp, if he doesn't choose his next words wisely.

another chuckle leaves him, before he gets up from his seat, a slight sway to the action as he sneers at gojo. now, were the circumstances different, the white-haired boy is sure such a brazen person would've impressed him, who is the strongest sorcerer there is, but not today.

not when you're the one who is the innocent undeserving recipient of such a remark as the one he utters next.

"i just said, my cousin's a freak who can read someone's mind without them knowing - and she does that all the time for her sick enjoyment. no one can ever trust that bitch."

a fist connects with the side of your cousin's face and before anyone can realize what's happening, the two boys are rolling on the floor in a brawl, gojo obviously with the upper hand as he lands blow after blow and yell after yell on the other.

a quiet voice whispers to his conscience, chiding his response to the situation to be too harsh, too cruel - but no sooner does it appear than it is stomped down and shoved away by images from the past.

images of a little girl crying, yelling, screaming, eyes squeezed shut, how everything's so loud, how everyone's so noisy, how everyone just can't seem to stop talking of her - in the shocked silence of the party hall.

images of being informed over the phone, his friend won't be coming to play today either - for a class or a function or a cold, he cares the least for - before overhearing later at dinner, it's the fifth day the girl's been comatose since her last treatment.

images of brash celebrations revelling in the discovery and return of a technique, long thought lost - the new messiah, they exclaim - while the said person looks at the elders with face steeped in what, the boy doesn't need his six eyes to know, is terror.

images of a girl, saying in a surprisingly void tone, how horrible, how terrible, how despicable a weapon they've made her into - sneaking into people's minds to steal the meaning of their lives away - before giving a suggestion, too smart, too sharp for a girl of ten; although-

"satoru!"

the singular word snaps the sorcerer's thoughts into two, making him move his irate gaze away from the bloodied face of the bitch to the door-

oh.

it's you.

you, standing in the school uniform, a bag slung over your shoulders.

you, eyes round and lips parted as you stare at the scene before.

you, who takes only a second before you rush forwards, moving him away from your cousin, worried gaze raking over his features instead of the bruised wailing mess of a relative left behind.

"'toru," the word escapes you in a whisper as you maneuver him into sitting on the couch.

another voice wafts over to him, a lot like suguru's, but he pays it no mind, wanting to focus on you and you only, while your fingers travel over his face, brush his bangs away, tuck them behind the shell of his ear, then finally come to a rest on the apple of his cheeks, the grazing of the thumb soothing a minor cut.

though the way your eyebrows furrow at it, emotions darting across your face a million a second, from confusion to concern to anger - gojo reckons, were anyone to see you now, they would think it ain't a tiny nick but a gaping wound.

the white-haired boy grasps your wrist in his fingers.

"i'm okay, shortie," the second-year reassures you in a whisper. you peer at him closely in turn for a beat longer, before a long sigh leaves you though the frown on your lips stays the same. he would've called you cute if not for the murderous intent rolling off you in waves...

gojo decides to call you hot now.

a seething gaze with a soft "what happened, 'toru?" reaches him next.

oh yes, gojo swoons inwardly, you're being so fucking hot.

nuzzling into the palm cradling his cheek, the boy smiles. "nothing you need to worry about."

"it's your cousin," a female voice butts in before a known pair of heads walk into his vision, one smoking a cigarette while the other looks at him then you, mildly stunned.

shoko continues, as laidback as ever (as if she too wasn't glowering then), "suguru there asked him something about you to which the pig replied with some nonsense, because of which satoru here jumped in to defend your honour." your eyes travel from her to him. a whoosh of air leaves the girl and she takes a long drag from a cigarette. "nothing very serious, to be honest..."

"but nothing too unserious either," utahime adds, which earns a small nod from her girlfriend, "if the asshole dares to lie about you once-"

"what's to say he won't again," you finish the sentence for her, a dark shadow looming over your face, then throw the culprit a harsh look. "and what shit did you spout, mr. resident douchebag of the clan?"

a corner of gojo's lips quirk up at the nickname you gave, then part in a grin at the reaction your cousin gave to that. embarassed, for sure, yet never going farther than glaring at you from those swollen eyes.

if you weren't standing here, caressing his face, your friend's certain, he would have gone to tear him a new one - the latter still scowling at you whilst intermittently yelping at the pain of his wounds.

a long sigh escapes you, visibly tired and annoyed.

"i know you can hear me just fine by that stink eye you're giving me, so fess up now - what the fuck were you telling about me?"

an absolute silence answers your question, and just when gojo thinks he might have to leave your warm cocoon to go beat your cousin up, again, suguru's voice sounds from beside, "he was talking about your CT."

"oh?" a brow rises. "and what about it?"

"apparently - and i quote," the long-haired boy adds with palms raised and faced forwards, at the scowl he shoots him, "you can read others' minds without their knowledge, and you do that always. for fun, your cousin claims."

you blink, and turn to your relative; a mask, gojo observes with a hint of melancholy, slipping over your features - not that the boy blames you, though. you need a mask - now, most of all times.

"you said that, aniki?" you inquire, the caressing hand over gojo's skin stilling with a slight tremor. he envelopes your hand in his; an action you respond to with a squeeze, continuing, "but why did you? after all that happened, after all that everyone in the family knows, why?"

a stubborn scoff sounds from the other end of the room; one of the six eyes twitches in its socket.

"i don't think you should ask this question, shortie," the second-year hums, pulling a nonplussed face from you. he grins, "you can simply read his mind, no? your aniki won't be forced to give a reply; your ask too will be answered. besides, this isn't gonna be the first time you're breaking into someone's mind, and, your cousin's not even gonna feel his mind being read - a painless procedure - isn't that right, aniki?"

"fuck no!!!!"

and bingo!

gojo watches you cast a long look at him, then back at your cousin, before a slow smile spreads on your features, the glint so dear to him making a comeback in your eyes.

"not a bad idea, senpai," you say, lifting your free hand and directing it at the culprit. a few gasps sound around you, soon followed by a few murmurs - your senpai watches them slide off your skin like water off a duck's back. you announce in a sing-song fashion, "well, here goes nothing~"

then stop at the anguished cry, your smile widening into a grin.

sweet and smug, like the cat who got the canary.

gojo feels three pairs of eyes look at his smirk, all at the same time - the boy lets them look. the two of you share dynamics, the nature of which none, except you two, can ever dream of comprehending.

wailing, your cousin rises and stumbles over to you, hands folded in a pleading gesture.

"please, no, no, no," he sobs, very nearly falling at your feet before you take a step backwards, disgust overtaking your grin, sending the boy reeling back. "i beg you, no. please don't kill me. i was just kidding; it was just a joke. i'm sorry, don't kill me."

"kill you?" you let out a shocked gasp, placing a hand over your chest, "i would never. i was just trying to read your mind, aniki. why on earth would that kill you? you won't even feel anything-"

"it's the binding vow, you bitch!!" the boy spits, interrupting you, "the one you took years back, 'cause you didn't want the higher-ups to use you as a spy again; giving up the element of secrecy of your CT to-"

your cousin pauses, the realization and the ensuing horror and regret dawning over his face; gojo presses him, sharing a smile with you.

"to?"

the answer arrives as a shuddered whisper - a whisper audible to all, however, thanks to the heavy silence in the room.

"to make it lethal on its victim instead; an attack none can stop, not even a special-grade."

the crash of a glass, or five, impacting with the ground sounds; you give a satisfied nod, smirking.

gojo runs a palm over your dishevelled hair, undoubtedly from driving with the windows down to this stupid meet of the teenagers from the jujutsu clans. you give him a smile, mouth opening to say something, but he doesn't let you. "don't thank me, stupid."

"okay," you acquiesce, a slight huff to your tone before it grows softer, "but can i at least say you were being very cool then? i'm impressed."

"who's impressed with whom?" a crass voice interrupts the moment before gojo can even form it entirely between the two of you.

three - nope, five (even your classmates are here, tch!) teasing smiles float into his vision; the second-year opens his mouth to throw back a retort - except you snatch the opportunity away from him.

"i'm impressed with gojo senpai- any problems, anyone?" you say, tilting your head to one side with the cutest little furrow in the midst of your brows. all five shake their heads, smiles widening before one of them falls on your next words.

"but the next time i see you, geto senpai, asking others what sort of a person i am - don't you dare deny it, you asked two of my friends too the same thing, they told me; god knows why you need my character certificate, though, and for whom; you're acting as if you've a sibling i wish to date and you wanna know everything about me before giving the green signal, but whatever it is, senpai-"

you heave a breath, a break from your tirade - while the remainder of the room's breathing stays suspended.

gojo glances away from you to find the attention of all the attendees fixed on you. he wraps an arm around your midsection and rests his chin on your shoulder. you lean the side of your head onto his.

"i promise i'll create problems for you, more if i see gojo senpai being dragged into the aftermath of your curiosity - okay?"

gojo watches his best friend look at you, terrified, for a second before turning to throw him a glare. the white-haired boy bites back a grin.

placing hands on his hips, suguru exclaims, "you know what, i tried to help but no one here is worthy of my assistance."

"no one asked you for this help, suguru," shoko interjects smoothly, "you were the one who insisted, something about this method being the most effective or something if they want to catch her attention-"

"whoa, whoa, whoa. who wants to catch my attention?" you inquire, cutting them two off. gojo's classmates stop and the blood flowing in his veins drops to a subzero as he cranes his neck to look at you.

you twist to look back at him. "is there someone who wants to catch my attention? do you know them?"

"i-uh-um," the boy stutters, mind scrambling for a reply - something, anything - before nanami interrupts, a small smile on his face, "yeah, there is someone, actually, and we all know him. geto senpai was just gathering some data on you as his wingman."

"oh," you mutter, gaze dropping to the ground, then lifting to gojo. the boy simply blinks back, which draws a frown from you in turn.

retrieving a pair of shades from your bag, you hand it to him and turn back to suguru, a barely-there smile on your lips.

"next time he wants some info on me, ask him to ask me directly. i'll appreciate it."

"noted, boss," the words escape gojo before the addressed can even reply, utterly unmoved by the five exasperated glares [honestly, it's four: haibara can never really glare at anyone] - the next step of the plan already whirring to life in the shades-donning boy's brain.

so, so giddy at the fact of being told of the golden key to your heart.

▸ wrote an info-loaded chapter the first time in my life; please let me know your thoughts or any feedback! 😇

▸ series: we're the summer to our winter rain

▸ masterlist

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #satoru x reader #satoru x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #gojo fluff #gojo angst #gojo fic #gojo satoru #jjk fluff #jjk angst #jjk fic #jjk fanfic #jjk #kit posts 📝

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