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cowgurrrl · 2 months

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Sleeping on the Blacktop

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Author's note: guys we did it i wrote smut i actually like (ps this was edited but also not reread because I’ve been trying to write it for five hours so if you see any mistakes no you didn’t)

Summary: The Land of No Return [4.7k]

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR MEDIA CONSUMPTION, platonic expressions of love, the mortifying ordeal of being known, sexting, we finally get to know about reader's secret tattoos, smut, Joel the Menace makes his long awaited return with that dirty fucking mouth, mutual masturbation, phone sex (??(sure)), protected sex (no Miller babies for them) p in v stuff, June being indulgent with describing Joel Miller, anxiety, I think that's it??

Music floods the kitchen as you and Andie work on making the best "last supper but with women" possible. The lamps glow orange on the walls and create funny shadows when you dance together, pulling each other in and out to old jazzy tunes. You laugh when she throws a string of spaghetti at your fridge to test if it's ready a little too hard, and it splatters water everywhere. You, honestly, might be a little delirious. You're both in your pajamas, and you've been watching movies all day. You exchange what you remember from New Year's Eve and cringe at what the other fills in. You drink cheap wine from plastic cups and snack on chips as the food cooks.

It feels like high school again, with all the girlish giggling and inside jokes you trade back and forth, except this time, instead of her going back to her house ten minutes up the road, she's going back to her apartment half the world away. No matter how long you get with her, it's never enough. Thousands of miles and different schedules will do that. Keeping long-distance friendships as an adult is just as hard, if not harder, than making new ones.

When dinner is ready, you fix your plates and sit next to each other at your messy dining room table— the IKEA one she helped you build when Henry walked out with the first one— and eat. Paint stains the wood of the table, and half-finished works are scattered around the dining room, but you barely notice them as you talk. She tells you about the things waiting for her in Vienna: work, her cat, Oslo, and piano lessons. You don't have to pretend to be envious because you are. You have to go back to school and the Real World once you drop her off at the airport in the morning. You wish you could go with her.

"Alright, c'mon. Spill it. What's going on with you and Joel?" She asks in between bites of garlic bread. You laugh and shake your head.

"There's nothing to tell."

"Bullshit. Tommy told me he saw you guys."

"Speaking of Tommy," you pivot. "What's going on there? You two seemed pretty chummy." You raise your eyebrows at her, and a big smile takes over her face. She takes another bite of food to buy herself some time, but there's no way you're letting her off the hook, especially after all her teasing about Joel.

"Nothing. We were just… talking." She finally says, and you give her a look.

"Talking?"

"Yes. People talk. You should try it sometime."

"Was it talking like we are now or talking like Joel and I talked?" You hum, and she kicks her feet as she leans forward.

"So you and Joel did talk."

"Well, we probably would've if somebody didn't come barging in."

"Goddammit, I told him to wait," she groans. "Sorry, girl."

"Yeah, me too," you say, and she laughs. You bump her knee and give her a look. "Alright, your turn. What's going on with Tommy?"

"Nothing that could actually turn into anything."

"Aw, c'mon. Don't count yourself out so early."

"It's not counting myself out. It's being realistic. I live in Vienna. He lives here. I'm not ready to come back to the States, and he seems content, so there's nothing that can happen," she shrugs. "It was a fling. A very nice fling, but a fling nevertheless." She seems a little too sad for it to have been just a fling. They exchanged numbers, and you've caught her texting him several times. She said she did kiss him on New Year's Eve (before she threw up), but they didn't go any further besides flirting the next morning. You watched them test each other at breakfast, and he seemed just as interested in her as she was in him. They'd be cute together. She sighs and pushes her pasta around in her bowl like a dejected character from a period piece.

"Tommy is very handsome." You comment, and she grabs your arm, animating all of a sudden.

"Dude, I've been dying to talk about it. What the fuck are they putting in the water here? It's insane."

"It's annoying, right?"

"So annoying." She agrees. You laugh about it together and, finally, give her the details she's been waiting so patiently for. When you finish your story, her hands are over her mouth, and her eyes are wide. "Oh, my God. You have to get him back."

"I know, I know! He's driving me up a fucking wall." You say, taking a bite of food. It will get cold if you don't stop talking, but you also don't care.

"You could surprise him with some lingerie or something." She suggests, and you groan.

"God, I don't even remember the last time I bought lingerie."

"All the more reason to buy some."

"I don't know. I feel like I could just show up naked, and he'd be happy with that."

"He sounds like a keeper then."

"Yeah, I don't know," you shrug. "I like him a lot. I just… don't know if it's sustainable."

"Why?" She asks. You almost want to gesture around your messy apartment and half-put together life as if it will answer her question.

"I mean, he's a good guy, and we're having fun, but for how long? His kid's gonna be in at least one of my classes until she graduates. Not to mention, he has another daughter who is in medical school. We both work full-time. And then there's the whole having to keep it a secret thing. It could get really old really fast." You sigh.

"What if it doesn't?"

"What?"

"What if it doesn't get old? What if it ends up working out?" She asks. You take a deep breath. "You didn't even think about that possibility. Did you?"

"I just don't wanna get hurt."

"That's a very real possibility. Things could go wrong. He could break your heart. You could lose your job. Society as we know it could come crashing down, and you know what? The sun's still gonna come up the next day. The birds will still sing, and I will still be here," she says, putting her hand over yours. You purse your lips as you process her words. "You deserve nice things, kid. Don't count yourself out so early." She echoes your earlier sentiment, and you smile.

She's right. Of course, she's right. You don't let yourself think good things could happen because you're so focused on all the bad. She's known you for so long she can read your thoughts and know your habits before you can. What a horrifying and beautiful thing it is to be known inside and out like that.

"Maybe you should've been a writer instead of a musician," you say, and she laughs. You squeeze her hand and sigh as you look at her. "I'm really gonna miss you."

"I'm really gonna miss you, too."

"I wish you could stay."

"I know," she says. "But you need an excuse to come to Vienna, and I need an excuse to come to Austin, and if I stay, we lose that."

"I guess that's true."

"Besides, if I stop making trans-Atlantic calls, I think my phone company would be concerned." She points out, making you laugh. You know she's telling you what she's told herself this whole time. She loves Vienna, but you know she gets homesick. You know she's trying really hard to convince herself to get back on that plane. You don't push her about staying again. You just indulge in her presence.

"I love you." You say softly, and she smiles.

"I love you, too." She says.

It means so much more than just "I love you." It means, "I love you, and I want us both to eat well." It means, "I love you, and I can't imagine doing this life without you." It means, "I love you, and I know you have to go." Never any buts. Always ands, because love like this knows no bounds. Not borders, not time zones, not lifestyles.

You finish the dinner you made and clean the kitchen side by side before climbing into bed and staying up as late as possible to try and get Andie back on Vienna time. In the morning, you drag yourselves out of bed and sing in the car on the way to get coffee, and when the time comes for you to get her suitcase out of your backseat and watch her disappear behind glass doors, you hug her tight and tell her you love her again. She repeats the sentiment with another squeeze and deep breath that tells you how close to tears she is. Then, she turns around and doesn't look back to prove she's strong enough to leave. She doesn't need to prove anything to you. You always knew she was strong enough to do this.

The car ride back is emotional and lonely and tinged with the bass line of Ribs by Lorde, but your phone buzzes as you pull back into your apartment complex with tears staining your cheeks.

Thanks for letting us meet Andie. She's a really sweet person. I'm sorry she has to leave today.

You don't remember telling him what day she was leaving, but she might've told Tommy, and Tommy told Joel. You smile and text him back.

Thanks for taking care of us. She only had good things to say about you and Tommy. We'll have to all hang out again the next time she's home.

And then.

Thanks for checking on me. I really appreciate it.

Of course. I'm always a wreck when I have to drop Sarah off at the airport. I'm around if you wanna talk. Ellie's hanging out with some friends, and Tommy's on-site today.

You stare at the messages and debate your options. He basically just told you he's home alone and has nothing to do for the rest of the day. And yes, he is probably being sweet and really offering to talk if you're feeling lonely, but you also know how talking usually goes for you two. You smirk as you type out a message.

Just talk?

It seems like he can't type fast enough.

What else would you wanna do?

I think you made some promises you need to follow through on, Miller.

I guess I did.

Come over and I can do just that.

Actually, I have some work to get done :( maybe next time?

You lock your phone and bound up to your apartment, conscious of the sudden lengthening of time between messages. It's fun to imagine him trying to come up with a response that respects your boundaries but also lets you know how needy he is. He may have started this little game, but you're gonna be the one to perfect it. Thus begins the days upon days of not sexting, but not not sexting.

At first, it's just messages about how you miss him and wish he was around. He tries to find an excuse to come over, but you effectively cockblock him at every turn. Your response times get a little slower the more worked up he gets, so he has to figure it out on his own. You never would've thought Joel Miller, a man with gray in his beard and wrinkles lining his face, could be such a fast texter, but you figure there's nothing more desperate than a horny man.

Messages quickly escalate to pictures. They start off innocent enough: a picture of the painting you're working on, but your bare legs give away the fact that you're not wearing pants, a picture of him stepping out of a hot shower, his bare chest slightly red and glistening from the water, a picture of you wearing the burnt orange shirt he sent you home in New Year's Day with no bra on underneath. Then, you get a little bolder. After a quick trip to the mall, you pose in front of the mirror in a short delicate white night down with pretty lace details on the top, the hem barely hitting the tops of your thighs and showing off the large tattoos hiding there. You look hot, and imagining Joel's reaction to you makes you flush and rub your thighs together to get some relief.

It's true that Joel would've been happy if you showed up to his house wearing (or not wearing) anything, but when the photo pings to his phone, he's never been more grateful for Victoria's Secret in his life. His breath hitches in his throat, and he quickly tucks his phone into his chest like someone is gonna come up behind him and see what he's looking at. He's barely glanced at the photo and he's already straining in his jeans.

Goddamn, he texts back. You're so fucking pretty, baby.

You like it?

It's a dumb question, but you really don't care.

It's perfect.

What do you like about it?

Besides the fact that you're the one wearing it? I like that it makes you look like more of an angel than you already are, and I like that I can finally see those tattoos you've been hiding from me.

Bingo, you think to yourself. He was able to catch glimpses of the large pieces hiding on your back and shoulders at the art gallery, and when he picked up on New Year's Eve, you caught him staring at them each time. You thought he was following the inky lines up your body, but you couldn't be sure. Now, he's giving himself away, and you're practically buzzing with excitement.

You turn around in the mirror and arch your back, perfectly showing off your ass and the intricate tattoo lining your spine, and snap a picture. It's one of the largest ones you have, and it's also the easiest to hide. Besides, you definitely didn't get it for your own enjoyment. You live for moments like this. You send him the picture and smile as you type.

Like this one?

Your phone rings not even two minutes after he reads the message. You giggle when he groans into the receiver instead of greeting you.

"You're gonna fuckin' kill me, baby." He says, his voice so deep you can practically feel it rumble against your ear.

"I told you I'd get you back." You say it like it's obvious, but he just hums. There's shuffling on his end, and all you can do is wait for him to say something else.

"What else have you been hidin' underneath all those little dresses, hm?" He asks. "Tattoos. The most fuckin' perfect tits I've ever seen. Anythin' else I should know bout? 'S your pussy as pretty as the rest of ya?" You didn't mean for him to hear you gasp, but he seemed pleased that he could pull such a sound from you without even being in the same room. Just like that, any doubt or reservation you had left flies out the window. You finally cave and slip your hand down your panties to glide your fingers through your folds. "Am I makin' you wet, sweetheart?"

"Fuck," you mumble. It's absurd how turned on you are by this whole thing. Your fingers slowly circle your clit, and your head gets so fuzzy you almost forget to respond to him. "Yes, Joel."

"Are you playin' with yourself?" He asks, and you nod even though he can't see you. "Poor thing. I wish I could be there to help ya. I'd have you spread open for me so I can touch you however I want. Figure out what you like and what makes you cry for me." You put him on speaker and throw your phone down so you can focus on gliding through your wetness, your middle finger pushing into you slowly.

"What... what would you do?" You ask, breathless.

"I'd start by usin' my fingers just to feel you out, and I bet you'd feel so fuckin' good. I'd play with your clit until you're beggin' me to put a finger inside you, and I'd slip two in slowly while kissin' your inner thighs and watchin' you squeeze my fingers," you moan as you listen to his raspy voice and fuck yourself to his words. You try to imagine what his fingers would feel like inside of you. How different compared to yours, how much better they'd feel. Goddammit. "Then, I'd use my mouth on you while my fingers move in and out. I'd lick you all over and feel you soakin' me when I suck on your clit." He says, and you return to rubbing said bundle of nerves, faster this time, as you become acutely aware of his labored breathing over the phone.

Is he touching himself? The idea of him holding the phone with one hand and fisting his cock with the other sends a wave of heat down your spine, and you keen into your own hand. A shaky breath and muttered curse leave his lips, and then you know for sure what he's doing. Your head spins, and you'd be embarrassed by how close you are just from his voice if you weren't entirely focused on the pleasure clouding your brain.

"Fuck, Joel-"

"I know, baby, I know," he coos sympathetically. Another lewd moan leaves you as you get closer and closer to the edge, stars threatening the corners of your vision. "Are you gonna come for me like this?" He asks, and you hum in the affirmative, not trusting yourself to form words. "Come on. Let me hear you. I wanna hear what you sound like when you fall apart." His voice is coming faster and breathier, a light growl at the end of his words. How are you to deny him that?

The speed of your fingers on your clit increases, but it's his own broken whimpers that finally do it. Your back arches as the waves wash over you, and noises you didn't even know you could make escape your lips. You can vaguely hear a broken sigh accentuated by a particularly hot whine from Joel's end. Henry was never as vocal or talkative as Joel is. None of your past partners have been. In the aftershocks of your orgasm, you have a quick passing thought that he might ruin dating for you. You might never want to see anyone else who doesn't treat you like this. You might be fucked.

"Joel," you say when you have control over your thoughts again. He takes a deep breath and clears his throat.

"Yeah?"

"Get the fuck over here now."

Joel's house is on the other side of Austin. With traffic, getting to your apartment can take anywhere from twenty to forty-five minutes, depending on how fast you're willing to go and how many red lights you can pass under. Joel gets there in fifteen. You're still in the flouncy dress you bought specifically to torture him, but by the time you open the door for him, you're much less interested in making his life any more miserable than you already have over the past week.

He doesn't hesitate to charge into your apartment, grab your face, and kiss you like his life depends on it. His tongue sweeps over your bottom lip, and you open to him, clinging to him as his hands move from your face to the backs of your thighs to pick you up. You squeal in surprise and lock your legs around his waist to bring him closer and keep yourself from falling. Even though he obviously came over the phone at the same time you did, he's hard again and pressing against your bare pussy. He hisses when you grind against him, and his jaw clenches as he pulls away like he's in pain.

"Where's your bedroom?" He asks, wide eyes searching the hallway behind you.

"First door on the left." You say as you duck your head to kiss his neck. He sighs and indulges in the feeling of your tongue against his skin before he finally finds his feet and stumbles into your bedroom. You're halfway through marking him before he lays you down and immediately rucks his hands up your thighs, spreading them apart and making you whine.

"You okay?" He asks, stopping all movement to scan over your face for any signs of discomfort. You nod and reach for the buttons of his jeans.

"Yes. Just need you." You say.

"Are you sure?"

"Joel, I just came from the sound of your voice. Yes, I'm fucking sure." You say, a little frenzied as you pull at the hem of his shirt. He laughs as he pulls it over his head and quickly unzips his jeans.

"Feisty."

"Can you blame me?" You ask, and he shakes his head. He tugs his jeans and his briefs down at the same time and unveils all of him to you in one go. He's beautiful. You knew he would be, but seeing the graying chest hairs and the pretty happy trail leading down to his hard cock in between his strong, tan thighs is an entirely different thing. You reach for him, desperate to feel the weight of him in your hands, but he stops you by slipping the tiny straps of your night gown down your arms.

He carefully pulls the fabric down your body until it's pooled next to his clothes on the floor. His eyes fall to the black lines wrapping around your shoulders, and he draws his eyes to your collarbones and sternum, his breathing stuttering at the sight of you laid out under him.

"So much prettier than I imagined." He murmurs as he ducks his head to kiss the valley between your breasts. You smile and run your hands through his curls as he mouths at your chest, leaving red marks in his wake and making you press him closer.

"How many times have you thought about this?" You ask. Has he always wanted you in the way you've wanted him? You're almost positive he has. There's no other way to explain the reverence with which he's looking at you. He's so wrapped up in you it's almost suffocating. Every time you glance at his face, he's staring at you with soft eyes and blown pupils.

"Lost count." There it is. The confirmation. You grab at his ribs to bring him closer, pulling him over you to kiss him slow and deep. Despite the heat of him against you and the ache between your thighs, you both take the time to savor it. That is until his overthinking takes over. "I didn't bring a condom. Fuck, I was in a rush. I didn't think." He says quickly, like he's waiting for you to back out or push him away. You bring your thumb up to the worried wrinkle between his eyebrows and smooth it away, kissing his jaw.

"You think I would get you all worked up to not be prepared? C'mon, baby," you turn the nickname around on him, and he leans into your hand like a cat. "Top drawer." You say. He scrambles to your bedside table and grabs the first one he can find as you move onto all fours while he's distracted. You listen for the foil ripping and the subtle sound of the latex fitting over him. You can't stop the smirk from forming when he looks up and sees the sight in front of him.

"Fuckin' Hell," he mutters. Your back is arched perfectly, your hair gathered over your shoulder, and the tattoo you got done so many years ago is on display for him. "You are so goddamn perfect." He says as he presses his chest into your back and kisses your shoulder. He plants a few more kisses across your neck and back, making you wait longer than you already have, and just when you think you're going crazy, he slowly pushes into you and punches all the air from your lungs.

He's big. Bigger than anyone you've been with before, and he seems to know that. He rolls his hips, and you moan, gripping at the sheets under you for stability as you adjust. His breathing is ragged behind you, and he groans when you involuntarily clench around him. "You okay?" He asks, his voice straining. His patience and self-control should be fucking studied.

"Yeah, I'm okay." You assure him, and he nods. He starts to move slowly at first, but when you start whining and shaking under him, he snaps. You're both impatient. Months of following the rules and caring about what other people could think or say tumble out of your heads as he sets a rough pace. You've been dreaming about this and pushing it away since he walked into your classroom that day, and now that it's happening, you can't hide how desperate you are for him. You cry his name as he fucks into you deeply, no part of your bodies not touching, but it's still not close enough.

"You're so fuckin' good for me, baby. Jesus fuck," he moans into your ear, his uneven breaths echoing into your skull. "You feel so good."

He sits back and brings you with him, changing the angle and forcing him deeper inside of you as his hand snakes around your waist and dips to play with your clit. You curse loudly and dig your nails into his forearm as bright pleasure courses through your veins. "'M gonna come if you keep doing that," you warn, your voice high and strained as he adds a little more pressure.

"C'mon, honey, come on my cock for me. Please, I want it." It could be the slight whine in his voice or the fact that he's begging you for it, or the fact that the tight circles he's rubbing into your clit are making you see stars, but you come hard. You rely on him to hold you upright as he fucks you through your high, the slick between your thighs growing as his own orgasm washes over him, and he moans directly in your ear, an unexpected but not unpleasant gift. You think you could get off again just to the sounds he makes when he's coming.

You stay like that for a second, wrapped up in each other and breathing hard with him still inside you, before he finally finds the courage to slip out of you with only a tiny pained moan. He carefully guides you onto your back, your bones jelly, and kisses your cheek before he pads off to the bathroom to throw away the used condom.

It's quiet again in the apartment, but it's not lonely anymore. He makes himself at home in your space, asking if he can get water and snacks from your kitchen and walking around naked as the day he was born. "I wanna make sure you've got enough energy for round two." He says, making you laugh.

"Are you finally gonna make good on your promise to take your time with me?"

"Fuck yeah." He says, coming back to kiss your lips one more time before walking to the kitchen. It's like if he goes a few minutes without tasting you, he can't function, or at least, that's what he makes it seem like. You're more than receptive to the attention and can only watch as he walks around. Your trust in your legs is not strong enough to get up just yet.

In the domestic silence, it would be easy for your mind to run rampant with rogue thoughts and anxieties, but when Joel returns to the bedroom with snacks, bottles of water, and those stupidly sweet eyes, they get pushed to the back burner. He gets under the covers and pulls you into him, his warm body grounding you to this moment and not letting your thoughts stray. He presses kisses to your hair and your face every so often as you talk about everything and nothing.

Somehow, it feels natural, like you've been doing this the whole time or like everything was leading up to this. Maybe it was. Still, you'll need to talk about this. You know you will.

Just... not yet.

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha @cosmoscoffeee @shyminnie07 @beezusvreeland @eddiemunsonsbedroom @harriedandharassed @doodlebob-mp3 @ignorethisplz2004 @buckyispunk @d1lf-loverrr @vee-bees-blog @moel-jiller @anoverwhelmingdin @casssiopeia @maried01

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 1 year

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DRABBLE: WHEN YOU WEAR GLASSES (MHA) (for Black!Fem!Readers)

Writer's Note: My very first drabble!!! I had this idea after my boyfriend told me how sexy I look in my glasses. Enjoy! -Jazz

************

PRO!BAKUGOU – He swears to the Lord, something happens to him.

It’s like a switch in his body that controls how hard his cock gets automatically switches in his body the minute he sees you in those glasses. They’re the cat-eye kind and seem to bring out the pretty, brown shade of your eyes even more.

He barely noticed them the first day you came in after the weekend. He truthfully didn’t notice much when he was at work since shit around his agency ain’t ever done right. But when he was fixing himself some coffee in the employee breakroom, it was impossible to notice. It took him a while though because he was so hellbent on finding his favorite mug in the cabinet above the sink.

“Goddammit,” he grumbled. He was already irked from going hours without his morning fix of caffeine; now some dumbass was moving his shit? “Where the fuck is it?”

“Good morning, Bakugou,” you cheerfully said as you walked into the room. Though the sound of your sweet voice perked him up, he only gave you a grunt of acknowledgment. “Everything okay?” you asked, confused.

“Fuckin’ people keep movin’ my shit,” he growled, slamming the cabinet shut before looking in the one next to it. “You know where that All Might mug is?”

“The limited edition one?” you ask, a light giggle in your voice. He made a mental note to chew your ass out about making fun of him later. “Try the dishwasher. I think someone was here late on Friday cleanin’ up the dishes.”

Bakugou nearly ripped the dishwasher open and, sure enough, there was his favorite mug sitting on the top rack, nice and sparkly. He breathed a sigh of relief as you went about your business, taking a mug from the top cabinet to make your coffee. “Thanks,” he grumbled, turning to acknowledge you finally.

But as he did, he got one look at you in those cat-eye glasses that seemed to make you prettier and all of his brain cells seemed to explode. His eyes widened and his lips parted dumbly at the sight of you. It was bad enough that you looked so damn good in your blouse and pencil skirt, but the glasses set the whole look off. You looked like a secretary. One he’d love to boss around before punishing for not doing as he specifically asked; maybe bend you over his desk, pull up that skirt, and eat that pussy until you cried.

“You okay?” you suddenly asked, blinking at him in confusion. He realized he’d been staring. “M’fine,” he growled. “Where’d you get the glasses from?”

You blinked at him dumbly before going to touch your frames. “Oh, these? They’re new! Had to get new ones ‘cause the other ones weren’t doin’ what they were supposed to for my vision.” An almost insecure look crossed your face as you chewed on your bottom lip. Bakugou nearly jumped you right there. Were you trying to make him hard? “Do you…like them?”

Did he like them? All Bakugou could think about was cumming all over the frames and fogging up your vision even more when he finally bust all over your pretty face, your kissable lips and tongue coated in his nut.

“Y-Yeah,” he muttered, flustered, and turned towards the counter to avoid you seeing his hard-on. “They’re…nice.”

The shy but happy smile that passed your pillowy-soft lips was enough for him to cum about three times into his hand hours later when he was finally alone in his office.

PRO!MIDORIYA – He is a little more discreet about his horniness when he sees you in your glasses.

But when he sees you, oh, boy, it takes everything in him to not fuck your ass all the way up.

When he first realized how gorgeous you look in glasses, it was a day after you spent the night at his place and you had a luncheon with your fellow pro hero friends in half an hour. “Baby?” he called from his bedroom, frustration taking over him.

“Yeah?” you called back from the bathroom. You had been in there for twenty minutes already. He wasn’t too sure what women went through to get ready for a special occasion, but you must’ve been doing something right to always come out looking absolutely perfect.

“Have you seen my wallet?” Deku asked, panic creeping into his voice as he tore through his nightstand drawers. “I swear, I had it last night but I can’t find it now.” The last thing he remembered from last night was coming home after dinner with you and ripping his clothes off before proceeding to fuck you into his mattress.

“You did,” you replied above the sound of TLC playing from your phone. “Check under the bed. That’s where your jeans were.”

Deku did as you said and, sure enough, there it was lying under his bed, all credit cards and money still there. “Ah!” he sighed in relief. “Thanks, baby. I would’ve been tearing my entire penthouse apart.”

“No problem,” you chirped as you suddenly walked into the bedroom. “What time are Shoto and Bakugou showin’ up at the restaurant? I still need to put some clothes on.”

Deku had looked up at you and his brain fucking shortcircuited. Anything he was about to say fades in his mind as he gets a look at you wrapped up in your towel and your bonnet with some very new glasses on your face. He swore you’d never had them before. Where the fuck did they come from? And why were they making him so hard?

You scowled down at him, confused. “What?” you asked. “Somethin’ on my face?” You went to glide a hand across your mouth.

Deku slowly shook his head, still staring up at you, dumbfounded. “Um…are those glasses?” he weakly asked. You eyed him confusedly, nodding. “Yeah; I had to switch to glasses ‘cause I didn’t like my contacts anymore.” You fixed the spectacles on your face. “Do they look okay?” you shyly asked, peering down at him with those big, brown eyes that looked so much prettier with the glasses on your face.

Deku didn’t answer. Instead, he used his actions to give you all the answers you needed. Minutes later, your towel was off and you were on your stomach, ass tooted up and pussy filled with his veiny, thick cock that stroked your walls so good that you began sobbing at the pleasure. “They. Look. Fuckin’. Perfect,” Deku growled, each word punctuated by a thrust that had your glasses nearly falling off your face from the force.

Lunch with Bakugou and Todoroki turned into dinner, let’s just say.

PRO!TODOROKI – To him, you look goddamn angelic. Like the prettiest teacher in the entire world.

And you are! When he first met you, you were teaching at an elementary school that he volunteered to visit for the school’s career day celebration. He didn’t mind as Todoroki had a love for kids; especially ones that wanted to become a pro hero.

He showed up earlier than was necessary–like, a whole hour earlier–, decked out in his hero gear. As soon as he walked into the colorful and inviting classroom, he was taken aback by the gorgeous woman standing at the whiteboard with the most beautiful skin and hair he’s ever seen. When you turned toward him, pausing in your writing, he went still.

The glasses you specifically chose that day were red and matched your pretty blouse and complimented your skin. It’s all he could do to not pop a hard-on. He knew if you were his teacher, he’d do nothing but stare at you, daydreaming about how beautiful you were when he should’ve been paying attention to the lesson.

“Mr. Todoroki?” Your voice, sweet like honey, pulled him out of his trance. You were giving him a concerned look that made a cute little wrinkle between your eyebrows. “Is everything okay?” you asked. “You’re very early. The kids won’t be here for another hour.”

Todoroki dumbly blinked at you and then flushed under his gear. Here he was, ogling at you like a horny schoolboy when he had a job to do! “Apologies, ma’am,” he said, bowing to you much to your shock. “I had shown up to prepare for today’s class and perhaps see if I could offer my hand in any help you needed.”

You giggled at his words, making his cock surge in his pants. “That’s very sweet of you,” you cooed, a sweet smile curling at your glossy, soft lips. “But that’s really not necessary! You’re a guest, after all.”

But Todoroki was persistent. “It’s really no trouble, ma’am. I’m honored to even be here. After all, I’m taking time away from your teaching.”

You pursed those lips up at him, giving him naughty flashes of his cock between them. “Well, if you want, I need help putting the crayons out on the desks. And you don’t need to keep callin’ me “ma’am”. Ms. L/N or F/N would do just fine.”

Todoroki smiled then, happy with the icebreaker. “Of course; then you can just call me Shoto.” He stuck his hand out for you to shake and you took it, causing a zing of electricity to shoot through his body at your touch. “By the way, you look nice in glasses.”

That little comment was enough to sweeten you up to give him your number once the classes ended.

AIZAWA – He fucking loves it, man.

He just can’t help but picture you in a little schoolgirl outfit, on your knees with his dick deep down your throat and your glasses fogging up every time he thrusts into your mouth. Or maybe even as a teacher, your glasses perched on your nose and one heel of your pump pressing lightly into his chest as he fists his cock.

Yes, Aizawa is a fucking pervert. But he’s very discreet about it. You didn’t know what he was thinking at all when he first saw you pull the spectacles out of your clutch one night at dinner. He was sitting across from you at the steak restaurant he insisted on taking you to on your first date.

He could barely keep his eyes off you, forcing himself to stare strictly at your face and not at your breasts that insisted on showing themselves off in your low-cut dress. “So what are you gonna get?” he asked, his menu in his hands.

“Hmm…” you hummed questionably as you took your menu and squinted at it, hilariously, Aizawa would add. “Hang on a sec,” you suddenly sighed. “I didn’t wanna wear these ‘cause they ruin my outfit, but…” You dug into your clutch and took out a pair of big, rimmed glasses that reminded Aizawa of an old woman’s.

When you put them on, you looked downright embarrassed. “I look ridiculous, don’t I?” you sighed. “I just can’t see the menu too well without them.”

When I see Aizawa was gone, he was fucking gone. He wanted to tell you how adorable you looked in the vintage glasses, but he couldn’t get passed the part about wanting to bend you over the table, fuck you in front of everyone to show them you’re his, and cumming all over those cute little glasses. Why were you so damn cute?

“Shouta?” you asked, scowling at him worriedly. “Are you okay?” Still, Aizawa said nothing, too entranced by how you looked. It was as if the glasses brought out the cuteness in you even more, making your brown eyes even bigger. And making him so goddamn hard.

A frown suddenly crossed your lips. “Sorry,” you weaky said, staring down dolefully at your menu. “I knew putting these on was a bad idea. I look horrible in ‘em.”

You went to pull them off, but Aizawa stopped you with a hand on your wrist and a firm, “No.” You stared at him, shocked. “Don’t take ‘em off,” he said softly, pleading with you. “You look…amazing.”

The joyful and bashful smile that crossed your pillowy-soft lips adorned in red shook him to his core. The rest of the night was filled with passionate kisses, endless praise, and him fucking you stupid to show you just how beautiful he thought you were.

Whether with the glasses or without.

#had this idea after my boyfriend said some nasty shit about my glasses #bnha smut #smutty smut #18+#drabble #bnha drabble #black reader #aizawa x black!reader #deku x black!reader #bakugou x black!reader #todoroki x black!reader #my works #my drabbles

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bloodypeachblog · 1 year

Text

Wolfwood X F!Reader NSFW headcanons/drabble

~~~♡♡♡~~~

Ok, I'm not drooling over Nick here, but I get why others do, I can see it. If I weren't simping for Vash 24/7, sure, I'd settle with him. I could fix that attitude of his. But whatever, let's go. Don't know what this is exactly, but don't care, just enjoy. Those who wanted Nick's version, bon appetit!

• Now, this guy acts like a drunk asshole a majority of the time. He's also a shit priest. I wouldn't have him running your grandma's funeral, is all I'm saying.

• He can act cocky, sarcastic, cold, all that shit. But you can see right through that mask.

• you can tell that he was just a guy that was hurt many times as a kid and he only closed himself off and acted like an asshole because he didn't want to be hurt again. Can't blame him, honestly.

• when you joined him, he was curmudgeonly about it, but over time, you started to grow on him. But don't expect him to show it or say it.

• time goes on, he ends up catching feelings for you and in his head, he's like 'bro wtf is this sappy shit?'

• of course, he never fully showed it, but slowly, he started to be nicer to you, and only you. Little gestures, looks, and words that showed that there was more to him than the cold sarcastic prick persona.

• it wasn't until you both stayed at an inn and they only had one room with one bed available that things changed.

• it was the only place for miles and it wasn't safe to be out late at night, so you both agreed to stay.

• once it was time for bed, you suggested he sleep in the bed with you, since there was enough room for both of you.

• it takes him some convincing, but he soon agrees and climbs in with you.

• when you both ended up facing each other, he starts to blush a bit and you can see something different in his eyes.

• you ask him about it and he denies it.

• you keep pushing him and pushing him and pushing him until...

• "IT'S BECAUSE I'M IN LOVE WITH YOU, OKAY?! NOW SHUT UP AND GO TO SLEEP! GODDAMMIT!!" He turns his back to you in a huff.

• You're left shell-shocked by the fast confession for a few seconds. Wait...did he just...? Oh fuck, he did.

• you then smile and think 'ok I know what to do now.'

• luckily you felt the same way for him, so you felt that the time was now.

• you lift yourself up a bit and turn his head towards you and you kiss him on the lips, nothing deep, but just a soft and gentle press.

• Now, usually, he'd push you off and go 'what the ever loving FUCK is wrong with you?!' But...something was different tonight.

• he felt...okay with it. In fact...this wasn't all that bad.

• was it because it was you kissing him? Most definitely.

• he turns his body around and pulls you close to him, returning your kiss with a deeper one.

• you wrap your arms around him as your tongue danced with his.

• Jesus, take the wheeeeeeel~

• you both lose yourselves in the kiss and forget about the rest of the shitty world.

• it's not long until he shifts so he's on top of you and starts kissing your neck.

• you softly moan and he can't. Get. ENOUGH.

• he starts to unbutton your shirt and opens it to reveal your breasts, out in the open.

• his mouth and hands immediately going towards them, sucking and licking on one of your nipples while massaging your other breast.

• you can feel your lower heat start to grow warmer the more he did all of this to you.

• not long after that, he pulls your soaked underwear down and starts to eat you out.

• Oh yeah. This man eats pussy. I mean, look at him. Of course he does.

• you try to hold in your moans as you grasp at his hair, your fingers gripping it tightly, trying to ride the pleasure he was giving you.

• you feel his tongue all on your lips, your clit, even sliding inside a bit.

• man was on a mission to make you cum on his face.

• fortunately, that mission was a success.

• he wipes his face and licks his juice-covered hand clean.

• he sits up on his knees and takes his shirt off and undoes his pants to take his huge cock out, throbbing and dripping precum already. (Ok ngl, that's hot as hell).

• he grabs your hips and pulls you in, rubbing his cock on your pussy, teasing it.

• he loves to watch you squirm and beg, so he takes his time teasing you.

• "you want it, eh? You cute little slut. Say that and maybe I'll give it."

• you say what he wants you to say, that you're his cute little slut and no one else's. That you were made to only be fucked by him. That kind of shit.

• once he's satisfied with the responses, he smirks, says "that's my girl", and just rams himself inside you.

• guy is completely stretching you out, holy shit he's so big.

• no wonder he's a man of god, you would be too if you were blessed with such a gift like that.

• he slams your hips onto his, going balls deep.

• he's either licking, kissing, or biting your neck and shoulders as he fucks into you.

• now it's getting REALLY hard to hold in your moans, so when he gets the message, he kisses you deeply and lets you moan in his mouth as much as you want.

• he pulls you up so that you're both sitting up, but you're facing him and while you're riding him, he's licking and sucking and kneading your breasts.

• you didn't believe in God before, this man will make you see the light.

• he whispers the dirtiest shit in your ear. Just, pure filth. To the point that it's questionable whether he is a man of god or not.

• but you didn't care. Oh no, you were too busy drowning in pure ecstasy while you bounce on his throbbing cock.

• you were positive you came about, like, 3 times already, but he was still going.

• and you loved every second of it.

• now, the question is, does he 'use the back door'? Oh hell yeah, no doubt. If you're cool with it, of course. He preps you real well, too.

• and I hope you don't mind occasional hair-pulling, because he does it. Short or long hair, he'll grab it and use it as leverage so he could fuck you harder.

• soon enough, he's reached his limit, but no way in hell is he pulling out.

• if God made it so a man's seed can be accepted in a woman's womb, well, Nick isn't one to neglect that, now is he?

• So Much Cum™

• Dude's been backed up for years, being a man of the cloth would do that to ya.

• but you're happily accepting it, your pussy and womb drinking it up to full capacity.

• once the deed is done, he'll throw you a towel to let you clean yourself. While you're doing that, he lights a cigarette.

• Once you're done and he's finished off the cigarette, you and him are lying in bed, holding each other close, fast asleep.

• before he dozed off, he planned on what he would do for round 2 in the morning.

~~~♡♡♡~~~

(A/N: does this apply to 1998 Nick? Fuck yeah, it does.)

#trigun stampede #trigun stampede smut #wolfwood x reader #nicholas d. wolfwood #trigun #trigun wolfwood #trigun 2023 #trigun 1998 #trigun smut #like girl i get it #i understand #no arguments here #id be his little fuck toy any day of the week #not my go-to but ok

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tired-biscuit · 10 months

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I think kiba LOVES to suffocate his face between your plush thighs and turn you into a begging hot mess coz he loves to tease the fuck out of you and overstimulate you while praising you with a sprinkle of degradation just like how he says "you're 𝘮𝘺 pretty little slut" in his raspy voice you love sm

18+ fem!reader // cw: corruption, oral (f!receiving), college AU.

yes yes yes; i always felt like he’d be a sucker for really responsive, audible partners in bed! (it’s even better if they’re shy at first and then turn absolutely feral as time passes and the clothes come off.)

he loves the whole squirming, whining, pleading, fucked out state that you sometimes slip into. he’s no patient man, but he’ll sure as hell become one if it means that he gets to tease you for a small eternity as a result.

to be honest, he doesn’t know why he does it. he loves it quick and rough. raw and straight to the point. foreplay is just to get you wet enough so that he can slide in without trouble, is it not?

but maybe it’s the sight of you, or perhaps it’s the goddamn noise that you start — and continue — to make without stop whenever his head ends up between your legs, that makes his cock unbearably stiffen in his pants. the way you babble utter nonsense and keep moaning his name just because he’s got his hot mouth pressed against your clit gets him so hard every. single. time.

you pride yourself with being a smart, pure girl; someone who’s neat and tidy, and who never misses a chance to scold him for not being either one of those things. and yet here you are, now; looking so fucking stupid on top of his bed that he never succeeds in making the exact way you want him to. looking outright brainless because you’ve got your ‘dumb jock’ of a boyfriend’s tongue shoved so far up your tight hole that you’re thinking about praying to god.

you’re constantly moving. writhing. trying to push him away without any success — the way he can overpower you so easily makes him throb. your crumbling decency is appealing enough to make him consider spilling everything he’s got then and there; completely untouched. but he’s not going to do that, of course. he’s not a fucking weakling like some of his buddies are.

of course they talk about how they fuck their girls. i mean, did you really think your boyfriend was the only one who wasn’t an absolute sleaze, just because he sometimes gets you flowers and takes you out on cutesy dates?

all of his friends know how good you are at taking his cock despite the innocent appearance you portray. take that piece of knowledge as you wish.

so instead, he humps the bed on pure instinct as he eats you out because he’s yearning for friction below his waist so fucking bad, even if he refuses your silly pleas to let you give it to him. he’s too into watching you lose your composure whilst he tongue fucks you to stop now, after all. you’ll get to stroke and sit on his cock later. you’ll bounce on it, too.

and that determination turns him all the more eager. messier. sloppier.

he’s never been much of a giver, but markings that his teeth have left behind cover every inch of your thighs, now. they prickle with hurt whenever his thick fingers graze over them as he manhandles you and forces you to keep still — it makes you hiss. your pussy is gleaming with a mixture of your arousal and his spit. he can smell you everywhere; in the room, on his fingers, in his fucking mouth from the way it connects to his nose.

he doesn’t budge even when you beg him to. you’re getting overwhelmed as he keeps licking you; twitchy fingers tugging fistfuls of his hair so frantically that it makes his scalp ache. your back is arching off the bed, head tipping back into the pillow, toes curling, heels digging into his back that’s gotten so broad and strong from all the years of playing football.

goddammit, you’re literally shoving your cunt right into his face so that he can get you off at long last. it’s pathetic; he makes sure to tell you that even if his eyes are warm and soft as he says it. he can’t help but chuckle at the outraged face you pull when he calls you his pretty slut.

you’re nothing of that sort, of course, but maybe he’s partially right. because when he pushes two digits inside you and sucks your poor little clit into his mouth, mumbling something about how fucking good you taste, your entire world shifts to the movement of his fingers. your eyes cross. your mouth starts to drool.

you moan so loud, it’s like you’re a cat in heat. you’re just unable to stop it from slipping out. greedily, kiba hopes that his roommate on the other side of the wall can hear how good he’s making you feel, as well as every other squelch of wetness that is your warm slick. he’s seen the fucker throwing googly eyes at you once or twice before. it only spurs him on; he’ll make you scream if he can prove a point with it.

so as a consequence, he makes you endure overstimulation without the orgasm part — for now. it’s so intense that it borderline makes you so frustrated that you could cry. and that’s good, he wants to make you cry. he wants you to sob and to spill big, fat tears just for him as your legs shake and he licks you from inside out like he would a packet of crisps. to be responsive and hyperemotional and loud and overwhelmed, because it’s him that invokes it all in the first place.

not his roommate, not his friends, not your ex.

him. you react to him; only him. he’ll leave his mark, both on your body and soul.

and only after that, will he let you cum.

#you’ve killed me anon omg #kiba smut #naruto smut #biscuit drabbles #kiba x reader

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jinwoosungs · 1 year

Text

{ 87 }

his heart's desire.

denji x fem.reader

this had to be a dream, for there was no way any sane person would choose to be with him.

the insatiable pervert denji-

the fucked up denji who's own pops abandoned him-

the denji who wasn't afraid to die simply because he had nothing to lose-

and he was the same man you loved so dearly.

he had no idea how or why he managed to get so lucky, but hey, if he's learned one thing at all, it's to never question your own good fortune.

you were still sleeping soundly while denji basks in the gentle sounds of your breathing. he takes a moment to admire you, never once tearing his gaze away from you. with a gentleness that he didn't know he was even capable of, he allows the back of his hand to run across your cheek, feeling his own heart begin to quicken in its beats.

"there's never an ulterior motive with you, and that is more than i deserve."

unable to help himself, he reaches over to you, pressing a kiss against your cheek before deciding to do something nice for you. feeling optimistic, he starts by taking a quick shower, wanting to feel more awake and refreshed so as to start the day on a high note.

a few minutes later, denji comes out of the shower with a grin. he dresses himself in a favorite pair of his boxers while keeping the plush towel wrapped around the base of his neck. already excited to start his surprise for you, he heads to the kitchen while whistling a gentle tune.

living with you for a few months now, he knew all of your favorite foods and settled on making something that seemed simple and painless enough: waffles.

how hard could it be? denji muses to himself while gathering the ingredients to make your favorite treat for breakfast. the process of making it was simple enough, with denji able to make a considerable portion of batter to fill the waffle maker-

but it was actually making the waffles themselves that ended up being quite tricky for denji.

he either overfilled the waffle maker, or simply waited too long as several pieces became burnt in the process.

"motherfucker, you've got to be shitting me!" he curses for what seemed like the millionth time that morning, starting over yet again as he tosses the failed waffle into the bin before pouring out the next batter.

"honey?" denji physically stiffens upon hearing the sweet sound of your voice calling out to him. "what are you doing? i smell something burning."

he sighs, refusing to meet your concerned gaze as he glares down at the waffle maker. "it's nothin', just trying to make breakfast for you is all."

denji kept praying that you would leave him be, to give him this one chance to try and take care of you; to spoil you with something delicious to eat-

but it seemed that his prayers went unheard and unanswered when he feels you settle your chin against the top of his bare shoulder, watching his attempts at making waffles with a soft amusement.

"you didn't put enough batter this time. it's starting to burn, see how it's beginning to smoke in the maker?"

"goddammit...!"

he was close to ripping his hair out from the sheer frustration he felt, ready to berate himself had it not been for the gentle touch you had placed on his arm. calmly, you place yourself in front of your beloved boyfriend and take out the ruined waffle, trailing your eyes over to the bowl of batter settled just a few inches away.

"perfect, there's enough to make one more to share." you giggle, opening the waffle maker once more as you poured the rest of the batter inside. as you busied yourself with cleaning the mess that denji unintentionally made, you allow him to pout, hanging on to you throughout it all.

he wraps his arms around your middle, resting his chin against your shoulder while softly apologizing to you over and over again. "'m sorry. wanted to do something nice for you and still ended up fucking it all up."

"aw, don't beat yourself up over something so small and trivial, honey." you reach up to gently caress at his cheek, giggling at him all over again once you see his cute little pout. "honest, you're such a big baby!"

"yeah but 'm your big baby."

you hum in agreement, returning your attention back to the waffle maker as you open it to see a perfectly golden waffle perched inside. "ahh, isn't that lovely, denji?"

"geez, you're too perfect. not only are you gorgeous, but you can make perfect waffles too, like it's nothin'!"

you end up kissing denji on his nose for his cute behavior. grabbing a plate while still in your boyfriend's arms, you place the waffle on the delicate dish. your expression seems to brighten when you open yet another cabinet to bring out a jar of his favorite strawberry jam, the sight of it making denji's eyes light up in response.

"itadakimasu! it's time to eat, denji!"

he agrees with you, watching as you grab a fork before settling yourself on the couch. with a grunt, denji picks up your form so that you could sit on his lap instead. your sweet smile was all he could focus on as you lathered the strawberry jam against the entire surface area of the waffle.

denji had to be in heaven, he was sure of it when you cut a piece of your delicious waffle and hand fed it to him. and with you cuddling so closely to denji, sharing your perfectly made waffle slathered in his favorite strawberry jam with him, he could only feel a single thought repeating itself within his mind:

you are always going to be my heart's greatest desire.

a.n. - have you ever met a man you just wanted to treat so gently because his life has been so lonely and tragic-

denji is that character for me 🥹

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#denji x reader #denji fluff #denji #csm #denji headcanons #.stories

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bloodblanks · 1 year

Text

pumpkin head [ticci toby x reader] — prologue.

Life wasn’t always easy. But when it got hard, Y/N had a solution: take a hollow plastic pumpkin and put it over her head. No, seriously. It helped. It’s a valid coping mechanism, goddammit. But then Toby Rogers, a homeschooled outcast who might be even more of a freak than she is develops a morbid interest—or what normal people call a crush—on her. And she’s also getting stalked by a mysterious entity called the Operator. All of a sudden, Y/N’s plastic pumpkin isn’t enough to shield her away from the world and keep her safe anymore. No, she wasn’t going to take it off, but somehow, Toby was still interested in her even with it on.

co-written with @spookyravioli, please check her out! ♡

author's note: this fanfiction will contain mildly dark content, including abuse, alcoholism, mental health issues, unhealthy relationship dynamics, and similar themes.

please read at your own discretion.

“If I can’t have you, no one can.”

Time seemed to stop. At first, it was in slow motion, the way his fingers, caked in coagulating crimson, took hold of the box of matches, the way he slid the case open, the way he reached inside, taking out a singular matchstick, the once pale and thin wood now also tainted red. It was still in slow motion, time appearing to stretch out endlessly as he brought the match to the rough brick-coloured sides of the box, swiping it across and striking a newborn flame, birthed from the friction.

But then he raised his hand out, fingers loosening their grip on the frail matchstick, and it was right then and there that time came to a startling halt.

The scene before her played out like a video that had just been put on pause. And she, too, was paralyzed, staring in horror at the sight before her, unable to move a muscle. In this frozen space of time, it was just the two of them—her, standing still, eyes wide in terror, and him, eyes downcast, the slightest hint of tears still visible, running along his waterline.

The match fell.

Dropped from his fingers and hitting the floor, the room was set ablaze in a matter of seconds, fire bursting from the kerosene that he had drenched the room with, fire licking at the carpet, eating up the furniture, devouring the walls.

Everything was suddenly illuminated with an amber glow, the colour of the flames reflecting perfectly in his eyes as he finally raised them, staring straight into her.

It was like they had just met all over again, the sweet amber hue of his irises captivating her own; she found fatal attraction in them like a moth would a flame. And burn she did indeed, as all the sweetness left his eyes, the hue replaced by the fire that burst out before her, the fire that sent her body harshly colliding against the hard tiled floor, fully engulfing her unprotected form like vines entangling themselves around her limbs, dragging her down into a world of blazing, scorching pain.

She didn’t even have time to scream; instead, violent coughs erupted from her throat as she curled up into herself, back hunched over and knees brought up to her chest, miserably trying to prop herself up on her elbows.

The air was stolen from her lungs, replaced with the thick, heavy coat of smoke that was slowly descending upon her, clogging up her airway and causing her eyes to sting in irritation. Her esophagus felt as if acid had been poured down her vocal cords, searing and burning through her flesh.

She made another effort to try to get up, weakly pushing herself up on all fours. Still, she barely crawled a few steps away before the agony of the flames devouring her skin and the pulsating pain of the smoke sending sharp icepicks inside her brain became all too much to bear for her, and she’d collapse back down.

She came to the conclusion, then, that this was it. This was the end for her.

She was going to die.

She was going to die, in the kitchen of the boy she thought she loved, the boy she thought she could trust, the boy she thought truly understood her in a world where she had been isolated for so long, up until the very second they met.

And then he had become the boy who she had become mesmerized with the very moment their eyes met, the boy who she had opened up to and seen as her very first friend, the boy who she allowed herself to be vulnerable with, trusting him with both her body and heart, believing that he wouldn’t break it.

Because if there was one person in the world that she could rely on to be there for her even if no one else was, it would be him.

But now here she was, alone, with no one by her side, not even him. Here she was, alone.

Dying.

She had given him all of herself, entrusted everything to be in his hands. Entrusted herself to be in his hands. And he had held it, treating it with care, treating it as something so delicate, so fragile—only to allow it to shatter.

As he loosened his hold on the tiny little matchstick, as his fingers splayed out, letting it fall to the ground, he had let her go as well.

Now there she was, on the ground, every inch of her ignited with sheer torment, surrounded by the flames of what she would think to be Hell if she didn’t know better, if she wasn’t so painfully alive still.

If she wasn’t so painfully alive, the events replaying over and over in her mind like a broken cassette tape. The thought of his betrayal, hot and fresh and deep, wounding her where it had hurt most on repeat. The sound of his voice, hurt and betrayed and resentful, his last words to her playing on a loop. The vision of his amber eyes, puffy and bloodshot and still harbouring the slightest hint of tears, narrowed at her in an ever-present glare, etched in her mind.

It was all that she could think of, hear, and see.

She wondered then, how did things come to this? What could she have done differently to prevent this from happening? What had she done wrong for this to happen? Where did she make a mistake?

Not that it mattered anymore, because dark spots were clouding her vision, and she could both feel and see the smoke thickening, smothering her and causing her eyelids to feel heavier with each passing second.

As her eyelids fluttered like the desperate wings of a moth trying to fan out its own flames, she could feel her body’s desperate plea for her to just close her eyes, allow the fire to consume her, consume her just like he had, with the tender touch of his fingertips and the passionate movement of his lips.

He had taken everything from her, the fire finishing up the one last thing—her life.

As her fatigued eyes opened for the final time, through the spots in her vision, the haziness of her tears, and the dancing of the flames, was the silhouette of the tall man.

The horror of the realization dawned upon her, and at that moment, she too was burning, seething in pure blazing rage.

But what hurt the most, feeling like a spear of torment piercing straight through her heart, was that before her eyelids fell to a close, finally submerging her in the reprieve of unconsciousness—

She met his eyes one last time.

His bittersweet, amber eyes.

next chapter ->

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sidekick-hero · 1 year

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Being in a long-term relationship has many perks, Steve finds out, almost 2 years into dating Eddie. There is someone to share your days (and nights) with. Someone to support you. Someone who can pick up milk when you run out of it and only notice when you’re already at work. Someone to hold you on your bad days and celebrate the good ones with you.

Another benefit is that you get to know them inside and out. Their tells, their quirks, their likes and dislikes.

Steve learns that Eddie is a restless sleeper, all flailing limbs that tend to hit Steve in the face and other sensitive places. He learns that Eddie loves ketchup and tomato sauce but hates tomatoes. That he secretly loves country music and can play every Dolly Parton song on his acoustic guitar (he found this out when they had their first big fight and Eddie serenaded him with I will always love you to apologize). And that his most sensitive area is the place right under his ear, which gets him hard in seconds when Steve so much as breathes on it.

Steve also learns that Eddie is not only a picky eater, but also gets hangry frighteningly fast. One moment they’re joking around, the next his remarks get biting and mean. At first, Steve was taken aback, hurt even. They go more than a few days without talking after one of what Steve later learns is a hangry diva attack.

It’s Wayne who brings him up to speed after Eddie all but stormed out when Steve asked him if he could drive Dustin, Lucas and Mike home after their hellfire session because Steve had the late shift at the store that day.

He tells Steve, “Eddie gets mad when he’s hungry, y’know. The kid has to have a snack every two hours or else he starts throwing hands. Even as a toddler, he was all giggles and sunshine before all hell broke loose. First time, I thought boy got possessed by a demon.”

The thing is, Steve likes taking care of people, likes taking care of Eddie. So, he starts packing snacks. And when Eddie starts to get bitchy with him, he just shoves a granola bar in his mouth. Works like a charm, every single time.

Until it doesn’t. Because, as mentioned, Eddie is also a picky eater. He hates vegetables with the fire of a thousand suns (Eddie’s words, not his, because he is not a drama queen like his boyfriend).

Steve is afraid he's going to get scurvy, and Robin told him all about it one day when his only meal was the candy on the counter at the family video store. He'll never forget what she told him that day.

That’s why Steve is trying to change Eddie’s eating habits. He does it out of love. Eddie doesn’t agree.

"Steve, what snack did you bring today? Please tell me it’s Twinkies."

Steve fishes in his jacket for the bag he stored there before he left the house this morning. "It’s actually carrot sticks. They’re really good?" It comes out as a question and Steve wants to kick himself.

This is not going to go over well.

Eddie looks at him with a look of utter betrayal. "You monster."

Steve changes tactics. "If you're really hungry, you'll eat the carrots."

"And if you really loved me, you'd have brought a Twinkie. Who do you think I am? Bugs fucking bunny?"

Steve refrains from rolling his eyes at Eddie. “You got to eat something healthy once in a while, goddammit. You get scurvy, you lose your teeth or your eyesight. Do you want that?”

"What if I don't want to keep my eyes healthy, huh? I've seen enough."

Max, who sits next to Eddie during their movie night, punches him, hard, her eyes never leaving the screen.

Now it’s Eddie’s turn to change tactics.

"You know how fickle life can be, Steve. What if something happens and my last meal is some fucking carrot? Do you want that on your conscience, dude?"

Steve's patience is wearing thin. Maybe he should have eaten something. Except for the carrots, which didn't do shit for his mood. Not that he'd admit it out loud. This is about Eddie, who is being a big baby right now.

Always a man of action, he decides to take matters into his own hands. He takes one of the carrot sticks and tries to shove it between Eddie’s lips.

"I swear to God, I will bite off your carrot stick if you don't take that away from me!"

"EXCUSE ME THIS IS AT LEAST AN EGGPLANT"

"Small cucumber at best." Eddie says in a stage whisper to a bunch of traumatized 16-year-olds.

That’s enough. Steve gets up with an exasperated huff and storms into the kitchen. You know, like an adult.

After about five minutes, Eddie follows.

"Y’know, if you want to see me go down on some stick I got a better idea, big boy."

Steve smiles in spite of himself. He always folds up way too fast. Love sucks that way. He hands Eddie a goddamn Twinkie.

They share it.

As they munch on their scurvy-inducing snack, Eddie says, his cheeks stuffed with cake, "You don't get this fine physique from carrots, Steve. I'm a growing boy."

Something that Eddie has learned about Steve in the last two years? He can be a little bitch, too.

"If by fine physique you mean a saggy ass, be my guest, Eddie."

The kids burst into the kitchen seconds later, alerted by an indignant scream, and find them in the middle of a food fight. They see Eddie shoving a Twinkie down Steve's pants and yelling, "Have a saggy ass yourself!"

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

After everyone leaves, they lie in bed and make out like the horny teenagers they no longer are. As Steve's hand moves from Eddie's stomach to his groin, Eddie gasps with pleasure. "Yeah, baby. I want your hand on me."

“I have another idea.” Steve breathes into his ear, having made sure to lick a strip up Eddie’s neck up to his ear to do so. He lets his hand travel down further south.

Steve should have known better. One more thing he learned about Eddie? He never lets anything go.

"Oh, now you want to top, huh? What about my saggy ass? HUH WHAT ABOUT THAT STEVEN."

Thank you, @legitcookie and @yournowheregirl for being silly with me! This is like 33.3333 percent mine, the rest is from those two evil geniuses 💜💜💜💜

#steddie #steddie drabble #steddie ficlet #steve harrington x eddie munson #stranger things ficlet #idiots in love #god this was so much fun to brainstorm #please follow Jen and Alice they are both hilarious!!!#you make even the shittiest days brighter ladies #steddie crack #my writing

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beanghostprincess · 4 months

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I have a hc that Sanji (kind of) sees his mother in Robin- like, they're different but also similar and Robin has a motherly energy to him and she fells just like Sora to him and- Robin knows but don't say anything and even likes to know Sanji fells this safe with her

(Idk why I'm saying this now- I'm sorry. I am sick. And I am in my period too. And I also can't go to work today bc I'm sick so-)

NONO PLEASE I NEED MORE OF ROBIN AND SANJI!!!!! I LOVE THEM BOTH SO DAMN MUCH!!!!!!!!!! IT'S SUCH A GREAT THOUGHT!!!!!!!!!

I imagine Sanji having nightmares. Not every day but, like, it happens a lot. Sanji can't fall back asleep then, so he always ends up in the kitchen cooking or just smoking until somebody wakes up. He's shaking and really, really trying to distract himself because otherwise, he'll have a panic attack. This thing usually happens around 3 am, for example, depending on the day, and since Robin wakes up pretty early (5 am) it's just normal that they find each other in the kitchen. I just love the thought of Sanji trying to act like everything's fine but it's obvious he hasn't slept and he doesn't even want breakfast when Robin asks if he wants to make something for himself too (while he's cooking for her). They just sit in silence for a while but she knows something's wrong. She says something about not having to deal with the burden of her past alone anymore, now that she's with them, and that Sanji should do the same. But it's out of nowhere and what is he supposed to do with that? So he just nods and tries to avoid it, but at least Robin is happy he eats when she tells him to grab something from her plate.

When he fights with Zoro, sometimes it's too much. It's stupid, really. Their whole relationship is just constant bickering and arguments without end. But sometimes he gets too stressed and too overwhelmed and it's just too much, so he ends up leaving to a quiet place instead of saying something he might end up regretting. They argue, but he doesn't actually hate the damn swordsman, goddammit. Somehow, Robin is always there. She always lets him rant and rant about these things, and even if she just makes a sweet comment in the end that Sanji has a hard time deciphering, it's more than enough to calm him down.

Things get... A lot worse sometimes. Somedays, Sanji just won't eat. Or act like himself. Or shower. Or, well, anything. Sometimes he's more irritable and it's quite obvious that something is wrong, but he never lets people around him help. And Robin notices, because she has been there. She isn't a mind reader, but she notices when somebody is thinking about death when she sees one. This only happens in private and not a lot of times, but Sanji lets himself cry when Robin is there. And she hugs him and it's warm and she smells so much like his mom it just makes him cry harder. She's so sweet and soothing and she keeps kissing his forehead and saying that he'll be fine. That it's just a rough time, but he'll be okay with them.

Sanji can't handle alcohol, by the way. He sucks at drinking. Horrible drinker. He has a bit of Rum or Vodka or whatever, even a fucking beer and he's already feeling a bit dizzy. He says not to worry because he handles it perfectly, but uhhh, nope. He's a lightweight and he's an honest drunk who won't stop having breakdowns and the minimum sign of affection. So he always ends up crying in Robin's lap while she caresses his hair and lets him rant drunkenly for hours. She's there to calm him down when he throws up too. Poor boy.

When he has his gender crisis or his sexuality crisis or he has a crush or whatever, somehow he always ends up talking to Robin. It's a habit now, talking to her whenever he needs advice, and she always manages to give him the perfect support every time. Even if he's stubborn and panics every time he thinks about his true feelings, she's always there to catch him when he falls and when he doesn't know what to do.

Robin is also very protective of him, especially since Wano happened. If she sees a girl going to fight Sanji she stands in the way and helps him out. She knows he doesn't have the heart to harm them, and she's proud of him for asking for help whenever he needs it.

Not to mention that she loves it. She loves being his support. She loves taking care of him and helping him out. I mean, to her, Sanji is so young (they only have a 9-year age gap but you know what I mean. Also different lives and positions of power in their lives. She's just way more mature) and inexperienced and she's so glad he trusts her enough to let her help. I think about their Wano scene every day of my life, I swear.

#robin is sanji's mom and franky is nami's dad and together they're so parental it makes me want to cry #their wano scenes changed my life fr #they're really important to me because i want robin to adopt me too #which is funny bc my name is also robin #anyway not the point i love these two #their bond is precious to me #nico robin #black leg sanji #one piece

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sprout-fics · 1 year

Note

K: What’s the angstiest idea you’ve ever come up with?

So I think the angstiest thing I've ever written was the Little Mouse Maus death scene with Price. That gutted me. The idea of Price unable to touch maus while she bleeds out, and just telling her. "It's okay. It's okay." When he knows it's not going to be okay and lying anyways? OOF. Hits hard man.

However I have angsty ideas for Fix and Ghost's story in Shadows and Bones too. Stitches itself is ROUGH. Fix is a fucked up little pup. She's having a rough rough time. It gets better, but Stitches is her at her lowest point. Part 2 is pretty much hurt little comfort, but needed before Fix gets some major character growth. That growth eventually leads to her and Simon getting together, but that in of itself is a bad time at firs too.

Simon has feelings for Fix he won't admit, is kind of vicious to himself about it too. Lashes out whenever Fix gets too close because being loved is scary. And Fix just lets Simon treat her as nothing more than a sexual convenience for a bit because she tells herself it's enough even though it isn't. Yet she keeps incrementally pushing, and Ghost keeps letting her despite himself, which eventually leads to a chapter that takes place on Simon's birthday.

Fix shows up with a birthday cake in a thoughtful but anxious gesture and Ghost's response isn't surprise or bashfulness- it's to immediately lash out and shut her down and say "What the fuck are you doing here?"

He tells her to leave, shuts the door in her face because he isn't ready for this, isn't ready for this level of affection and tenderness and it scares him. Yet when it starts raining he hears a sound outside and it's Fix, sitting on the stoop, with the slightly damp cake box, hunching herself over and trying to shield it from the rain with her jacket so it doesn't go bad.

and then, Simon feels guilty.

He tries to tell her to go home, but Fix is stubborn. He tells her she'll catch a cold, but she ignores him. So he does the only thing left- he takes her inside, gets her out of her soaking wet clothes and into some dry ones, makes her some tea and plunks her by the heater while he figures out what the fuck he's supposed to do.

Except when he turns around Fix is eating cake straight from the soggy paper box, scowling, and when he just stares at her she's like "Goddammit somebody has to enjoy your birthday at least."

and eventually they talk, and Simon weakly again tries to warn her away with the "Loving me is wretched work." line and Fix, being stubborn as she is, just takes him in her hands and says "I'll do it. By God I'll do it. But...Jesus Christ."

#oh wow this got long lo #fic: little mouse #fic: shadow and bone

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ashtronomyys · 15 days

Text

Our Future Days

Chapter 1 - *Pt.3*

SoapGhost TheLastofUs Au OFD Masterpost (Includes Further Tag Warnings) Chpt1 Masterpost

~1.5k Words

// Original Character

**********

"MacTavish, wake /uuuup/! Last warning before I dunk a bucket of water on you again..."

It takes a minute for the words to reach him through his comatose state, but when the words do finally process in the man's head, the threat of getting murky water from god knows where poured onto him quickly coaxes the Scotsman into moving. He jumps forward off the ground, almost bumping head first into the girl leaning over him.

"Alright, alright, I- /I'm up/," he yawns around his words, stretching his limbs out until an audible pop can be heard. “No need for the water theatrics again, ye little devil,” he mutters.

The teen next to him shakes her head, her eyes rolling as she tosses a wrapped up wad of parchment paper at him. "Here. You need to eat. Alex and my mom left you some scraps from this morning."

Johnny sits up on his knees and unwraps the package. Some sort of cooked game, likely rabbit, sits wrapped inside the paper. Johnny digs into the meat, gnawing at the cooked skin as he makes note of his surroundings.

They're sitting in the middle of a spacious foyer, a half-broken chandelier hanging over them, and their supplies lay strewn about the room. Old tables lined with gilded trimmings and loveseats adorned with lush fabrics are braced against the doors and windows, a film of dust collecting on them. A grand staircase wraps around the left side of the room, and late morning sunlight pours in through the glass doors out back past the kitchen.

"Shit, how late did you guys let me sleep in?" Johnny asks around a mouthful of rabbit.

The girl shrugs. "I dunno. Seemed like a few extra hours or so? Alex tried waking you up earlier, but you were not having it." She smirks at the man before continuing, "My mom offered to just go and scout with Alex instead, said you could use the rest."

Johnny groans fiercely at the news. "Goddammit Madison, you guys should've woken me up! Hell, kick me next time if you have to!" He waves his hand around as he talks, using it to swipe the irritation off of his creased brows. "That should have been my job. If they run into anything out there they can't handle, I'll-"

"Oh relax, Johnny!" she butts in. "For one, we did try kicking you, and it didn't work. And two, they can handle themselves out there just fine! They've done this sorta thing plenty of times before… Hell, they've dealt with just as much shit as you have."

"Ach! Language!" he reprimands, which earns him a very defiant tongue sticking out at him. Johnny responds by swatting at her leg, Madison, in kind, kicks away his hand with the point of her boot.

The two snicker at each other for a moment, their laughter bubbling over into a more solemn tone.

"Seriously though, they'll be fine. You trust them, right?"

"Och! Course I do… It’s just that this is the third time this week I’ve somehow managed to sleep through my patrol.”

“Well maybe if you didn’t work yourself to the bone like you’ve /been/ doing you wouldn’t be so tired.”

“‘M not ov’rworking m’self,” Johnny argues around a large bite of rabbit meat.

“You are!” Madison continues to reprimand him. “You don’t get enough sleep because you insist on keeping watch the whole night, you don’t eat enough because you keep rationing like we don’t have enough food or something-”

They don’t, really, this far into the journey, but that’s a little secret best kept between him and Alex.

“And what /really/ gets me is how you go out of your way to be the first one going through every doorway or around each corner. Seriously, it’s like you practically throw yourself at those things and it’s really starting to-”

“Oh Christ, Maddie, can you at least let me finish my breakfast before we start on this again?” Johnny begs. He knew the girl meant well and all, but after nearly three weeks, it was getting a little more than exhausting having the teenager scrutinize every other action he makes.

“No. I don’t mind, and I’m sure the rabbit doesn’t care either way,” she flips the better half of her auburn hair over her shoulder and crosses her arms.

Johnny had to admit, it honestly did amaze him that in the midst of of their harrowing, borderline-suicidal trek across open territory, she still managed to find the time to bestow upon him the imperious discontentment typical of a moody teenager.

“Look, I appreciate the concern Maddie… ‘Ay don’t give me that scoff, I mean it!” Johnny promptly moves past the jeer. “Now you’re not gonna like it, but I swear by it when I say that everything so far has been /categorically/ manageable in my books. Trust me, if you think this has been bad, you should’ve seen the last patrol our squadron got trapped on before me and Alex ditched the regiment. Did you know your skin turns all dark and purple if you’ve got a case of gangrene? Saw a guy with trench foot in our troop get it pretty bad.”

“Is this supposed to be reassuring somehow?”

“... Right, point being is that Alex and I, we’ve managed through plenty worse situations before. And I know it’s not much,” he reaches over and motions for Madison’s hand, she reluctantly holds it out for him to unwrap her balled up fist, twisting their pinky fingers together, “but what I can give you is a promise. I swear that if I feel that I’m pushing myself too far, I’ll let ye’s know, cross my heart and all. And in turn, you stop worrying that lil’ head of yours, that sounds like a fair deal to you?”

She seems to mull over his words, chewing on the inside of her cheek before eventually landing somewhere between dissatisfaction and despondence.

“I worry because I don’t want you getting hurt too, you know?”

Any lingering indignation Johnny felt at being lectured by the teenager melts away in an instant. He can’t hold any resentment towards the poor girl and her lectures, after all. He could see the lingering mournfulness in the way she fidgeted, the thought of her father surely flashing in her mind.

It’s been nearly a year now since the Kellers lost him. It still doesn’t make it any easier, he knows too well himself how the passage of time alone hardly makes the memories any less painful. Especially in a life like theirs, where no one’s afforded the luxury of a proper grievance, not when the next tragedy is waiting just around the corner.

Johnny gives her his best comforting smile. “Bah, you worry too much,” he says while bumping his fist against her shoulder. “Way too much for your age, I think you should trust that we’re all gonna turn out just fine. You know, I’ve got a good feeling on this one, a gut feeling that we’re gonna find something good at the end of all this, you’ve just gotta wait and see.”

“Mm, you sure that gut feeling isn’t the rabbit meat you just scarfed down?”

Johnny huffs a breath of laughter. “It’s not the fucking rabbit, Maddie.”

Madison’s expression morphs into a scornful, scrunched up expression. “Oh, so /you/ get to curse all you want to, but I can’t,” she scoffs.

“Well I’m not fifteen, Maddie,” he deadpans. “And I don’t have a mother as kind and considerate as yours. who’s only wanting the /best/ for you and who’s wishes you should respect-”

“Oh /brother/, now you sound like Alex,” if her eyes roll any farther back into her head, Johnny swears they might end up staying that way.

Ahh, and there it is again. That characteristically feisty temperament most teens are built with a natural disposition to.

If it’s a choice between the annoyed groans of displeasure, or the mournful sadness unbefitting any child not raised in as unjust a world as theirs, he’ll take the petulance any day of the week.

"I mean it. You’re not gonna lose me, or Alex, Mrs. K, or anybody else. I promise, alright?"

"Yeah… I know." She squeezes back his pinky, a sly grin growing on her face again. "Alright, but I’m not kidding when I say you better watch after yourself, or the next time I have to wake you up with a pail of water, I’m adding mud and worms to it."

Johnny pulls his hand back, putting on a show with his wide-eyed, shocked expression and his hand held tightly to his chest in mock offense. "Oh, you wouldn't /daaare!/ No, you’d never, you like me too much."

"Not as much as the worms will," she barks back, and his face contorts in hurt. He’s about to say another jab, but Madison pushes him over before he gets the chance.

She bounds towards the kitchen, yelling over her shoulder. "Alright, well I’ve had enough of all that, I’ll leave you to finish up your food. Oh, and start packing up your shit up so we can be ready before my mom and Alex get h-/eeere!/"

She narrowly dodges the rolled up parchment paper being launched at her head.

“Language!”

**********

The majority of Simon's body finally feels alive as he weaves his way through the hustle and bustle of the city streets…

*** To be continued in Pt.3***

#soapghost #ghostsoap #john soap mactavish x simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x john soap mactavish #ghoap #fanfic #long fic #fic in progress #ofd #ash writings

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cowgurrrl · 7 months

Text

A come to Jesus talk with June

Alright, y’all some of you guys might’ve noticed I haven’t been as active on here especially when it comes to writing. Honestly, I’m in such a slump right now. Grad school is way harder than I thought it was gonna be and I’m still trying to get my feet under me in a new country with new friends and new work to do and writing hasn’t been something that’s come super easy recently. Therefore, I’m having a brief but very necessary break from fic writing. With everything going on with school, my org, my mag writing, and just life, I’ve been really stressed. I’m hoping to come back to it in a few weeks once I get a break because I do still have so many ideas and half-finished wips on the back burner that just haven’t been given the love they deserve. That being said, I would never leave y’all high and dry so here are some amazing writers/fics to binge during my break 😌

@pedrito-friskito’s Strawberry Wine: literally just go open the master list for this fic and tell me you don’t want to eat up every second of it. SW is/was a fic I read when I was still just kinda lurking on tumblr and not posting anything and it is beautiful. The way Kay writes is so intense and nuanced and incredibly, incredibly executed. I cannot recommend this series enough.

@swiftispunk’s Your Summer Dream: I think about this au at least three times a week because it is just that damn good!! It’s so fun and refreshing after reading so much angst and hurt/comfort to just have something a little sexy and heartfelt to read. Han is an absolute wordsmith and even though I’m recommending YSD, I truly recommend anything and everything she writes ever. Full stop.

@cupofjoel’s Keep It On The Low: DAMN I MEAN WOW this idea, this series, this writing is so impressive and hot and keeps you on your toes?? Not only that but it’s so emotional and soft and makes me say OW IVE BEEN SHOT I’m genuinely in awe of it every time there’s an update and I’m SO excited to see what happens next

@saintmurd0ck’s anything: Before I was a slut for Joel Miller, you better believe I was a slut for Matt Murdock and Frank Castle and THIS BITCH (affectionate) MADE IT SO MUCH WORSE Rhi’s account was also one I followed when I was still just lurking on tumblr and I love her work even though I haven’t fully regressed back to my Daredevil/Punisher phase (it’s coming (that’s what she said)) and I get so excited when I see her come out with something new 🥺

@softlyspector’s Adjustments: OW OW OW OW Adjustments reminds me of getting wrapped up in a warm blanket after you’ve been out in the cold in that it doesn’t completely take away the outside factors that have driven you to the comfort but goddammit if it soothe the ache a little. There’s so much angst but also so much love and comfort and found family and oshdkajdja i just love it GO READ IT NOW

@egcdeath’s Someone in The Crowd: take oftm but make it la la land coded and you get Someone in The Crowd!! It’s only one part but it’s so gorgeous and reflective and sweet?? I think it plays with tropes we don’t see very often in fic and that’s why it’s up here (Neptune, please come home from war the kids miss you)

Any and all of these writers are amazing and have great works outside of the ones I’ve recommended for you to read (and like and comment and share with them how much you loved them (support your local writer)) until I can get back to cranking shit out. Thank you for your patience and thank you to these writers and mutuals for constantly inspiring me to continue to create 🥺🩷 ilysm

#june screams on the internet #fic rec #June’s psa

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posttexasstressdisorder · 7 months

Text

"The best revenge..."

...is living and eating WELL while (and in spite of) living in poverty.

I actually had the gumption to try and have a cafe 30 or so years ago, and I live with a guy who had his own bakery: a Danish-trained Chef currently working as a Sous Chef at a big hotel in The City, and his 21 yr old son (who has literally been an assistant sous chef to his dad his whole life).

We're all barely afloat, his son is looking for his first real job-job "out there", and getting discouraged. Y'all hear regularly about my poverty status, and my roomie chef is doin' as much as he can, and we're all three freakin' broke.

Fuck it. We may be broke, but we are are gonna Eat as best we can with what we got. So to the current example.

Yes, I know how to cook Mexican Food like any native ex-south-texan worth his salt and lime. Yes I learned how mama/grandma did it, either mine or someone else's.

Roomie and I are carnivores, son is veg. We all agree that Mexican Food is good, so I'm always looking for how to spend my "old-fuck-on-food-stamps EBT the best way.

Behold, Example 1: 20 lb. bag of dried pinto beans.

20 lbs for $17. And lookee there: it's Fiesta, no stranger to this former Austinite. And anyone who knows knows that this boy knows how to make a pot o'pintos, with/without carnivorousness. Keep 'em on the stove long enough you got Refrieds.

Somebody at Groce-Out is from Texas, gotta be: They have Velveeta and Rotel (for QUESO!) at near-normal prices! I laughed today. Velveeta was 6.99 at Groce-Out, and I shit you not, $14.95 at Lucky.

Got that along with a couple 2-lb bags of their "Hollis Street" whole bean French Roast (Dark) for $11.95 ea. This is surprisingly good coffee beanage, freshly roasted right up the road in Emeryville, evidently. So good coffee for cheap. A similar brand at the 'non discount' grocery store I go to is $21 for a 2lb bag.

While they aren't the winner in the coffee bean competition, Lucky (the non-discount store) is great for meat, especially mid-week, when they have lots of specials. Their "megapaks" of chicken thighs (10/pkg) were buy one get one free. So for ten bucks, I got 20 thighs (over 7lbs), which, when roasted with lots of salt and pepper, and cooled and shredded and deboned become something like 4 pounds of Chicken Enchilada Meat. For ten bucks.

Tomorrow I go to another discount store closeby roomie told me about that has the best commercial Hatch Chile in a jar I have ever found. Tastes like mine, when we would get a case at a time at Central Market, get 'em roasted in the parking lot, and take 'em home and shuck most of the the skins/seeds, and saute onion and garlic and add. In. A. Fucking. Jar.

So you see where this is heading.

We will be having a TexMex Enchilada/taco Feast that can be repeated at will until we've eaten/given enough away. Freezer. Vacuum sealer. Oooooooom.

And yeah, we got the dessert thing covered. I buy flour, the three sugars, butter, real cream, good organic milk, good brown eggs. I bake everything from fucking scratch. I buy berries and grapes as my main fruit. I don't buy a lot of processed ANYTHING. I buy ingredients. And bread/tortillas, obvs. And I'm happy I have the "card" that gives me my eeked-out apportionment of "food funds".

So that old adage of "The Best Revenge" being "living well" means we may be fucking poor, but goddammit, we are gonna Eat, with a capital E if I have anything to say about it.

All three of us are pretty much clinging to the same leaky life-raft, this accursed but oh-so-necessary apartment, not much overlap in our lives/diets/schedules, but every once in awhile I get to go back into "restaurant mode" and do up a Massive Feed. Share with the neighbors and stock the freezer.

And a pot of beans on the stove in perpetuity.

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punkette1026 · 5 months

Text

Chapter 2-My Sweet Rose

Summary:

As Marcus impatiently waits for Abby to arrive, Marcus reminisces on what happened on their first date.

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

Unanswered Prayers Masterlist

Here is chapter 2. I really hope you like it!

Marcus sat there for what felt like hours checking back and forth between his phone and the coffee shop entrance impatiently waiting for Abby’s arrival. In reality though, it had only been like twenty or thirty minutes since she texted him asking if he could meet her at The Hot Expresso and it was pure torture. At this point, he would rather that she break up with him by text. It would save him the trouble of having a breakdown in the middle of the busy shop.

“You want me to warm that up for you?” came a voice out of nowhere as he rested his head back on the table.

Marcus shot his head up and saw Louise, Abby’s sister, standing there with a fresh pot of coffee. “Oh, hey Louise, no I’m fine thanks. Have you heard from your sister at all?”

“No, not today,” she sighed sitting down across from him. “I do know though that you two aren’t really seeing eye to eye now. What happened Marcus? Normally you two can’t keep away from each other.”

He just ran his hand through his shaggy hair in frustration, “I don’t know Louise, I really don’t know. It just sort of happened one day. Abigail just snapped at me. We had just got done eating dinner and when I washed the dishes and left them on the counter to dry, she just started yelling at me for not drying them myself. Then it turned into her nagging me for everything I didn’t do right in her eyes that day. I thought that maybe it was that time of the month, and just went along with it, but then it went on and on and one. And then...”

“Then what?” It tore Louise up to see her two favorite people fighting. It was no secret that at one point, Lousie had a crush on Marcus, but now she saw him more as a brother.

“On Sunday when I came back into town and my apartment got flooded, Abigail came over to help and she acted normal. She was loving and sweet, just like how she used to be. Then out of nowhere, she asked me to move in with her,” Marcus sighed.

“And that’s a bad thing?” They had been dating for over a year now and he practically lived with her sister anyways with how often he was at her place. Everyone thought that would be the next step in their relationship.

“Normally no it wouldn’t be,” he said with frustration again. “If she had asked me a month ago, I would have said yes in a heartbeat. However, with her mood changing and the issues I was having at work, I snapped at her this time and told her flat-out no. Why would I want to move in with her? So, I could get yelled at all the time, no thank you. It’s like I can’t breathe around her without her wanting to rip my head off. I’m better off staying in a hotel while they fix my apartment for the sake of my sanity. I just feel like nothing I do is good enough for her. I buy her the ice cream that she craves and it’s the wrong brand, I buy her flowers hoping that it would make her feel better, and she doesn’t like the way they smell. Then it’s like I can’t even touch her anymore. Sunday was the first time in weeks that I was able to hug her. Every time I would try to hold her or even kiss her, she would walk away. I can’t even hold her hand! I’m tired of it all Louise, but goddammit, I still love her!”

Louise’s heart broke from him. She knew how much he loved her sister and knew how much Abby loved him. You could see it in their eyes. When Louise did talk to Abby, she never mentioned anything that Marcus had just told her. All Abby told her was that she and Marcus weren’t on the same page at the moment. That they had a few disagreements, but that’s it. Louise had never seen an angry or controlling bone in Abby’s body, so to hear Marcus say such things, it came as a complete shock. That wasn’t her sister at all. Then there was something else that she noticed too.

“Look Marcus, I don’t know if I should be getting involved or saying anything, but I have been noticing that my mom has been acting weird too lately. She has been leaving work and home a lot to see Abby. Then, I overheard her talking to Abby saying that she would pick her up this morning and that she needs to tell you everything soon. Even my dad has been wondering where they took off too. So, I believe you in thinking something strange is going on with my sister. I just hope that whatever it is, you two can work it out. You two are perfect for each other Marucs Pike. Don’t give up on my sister just yet please,” Louise pleaded with him before excusing herself to get back to work.

At such a tender age of 16, Louise left a lot for Marcus to think about. If what she told him was true, then maybe Abby was going to let him in on what was going on with her instead of breaking up with him. However, he just couldn’t let that feeling go. And what also bothered him was the fact that she trusted Rosita more than him when it came to their issues. Even though she was her mother, Marcus thought that they would try to work out whatever was going on with them first before they got their family involved. That hurt more now that he thought about it.

As he checked his phone again, Marcus just gave up and threw his phone on the table. There was no point in looking at it anymore. He would just have to wait for her to show up. As he looked around the shop trying to find something else to occupy his mind, Marcus spotted a young couple tucked away near the window. From the nervous laughter and the looks on their faces, Marcus couldn’t help but chuckle to himself as he could see that they were on their first date most likely. He could remember the nerves that he was going through as he picked Abby up for their first date that didn’t go exactly as planned.

Flashback...

Marcus nervously stood in the middle of his bedroom only in his boxers as he stared at his closet looking for something to wear. A sudden bout of insecurity overcame him. He was just going to throw on a plain t-shirt and jeans and call it a day. However, when he thought of Abby and how beautiful she was going to look in whatever she was going to wear, he got concerned and nervous. He didn’t want to appear out of her league even though he knew that he was. Marcus didn’t want to embarrass her either. So, he pulled out his phone and decided to text her to ease his mind.

‘Good morning, Abigail Rose! How did you sleep?’ -M.P.

‘Good morning, Agent Pike! Slept like a baby. How about you?’ -A.R.

‘I slept alright. Question, what are you planning to wear tonight?’ -M.P.

‘Why, are you trying to match? Lol But I’m planning to wear a simple dress.’ -A.R.

‘Just wondering. I wasn’t sure how dressed up I needed to be. Didn’t want to under or over dress.’ -M.P.

‘It’s probably going to be hot and packed. Just keep it casual. I’m really excited to see you!’ -A.R.

Marcus gave a big smile as he read her text. He was just excited as he was.

‘Me too. I hear that they are going to be showing some old 80’s movies. Do you like horror movies?’ -M.P.

‘Nope, I love them! A lot of 80’s horror movies are cheesy though. Are they showing anything good?’ -A.R.

‘True, but they are having a showing of A Werewolf in London. It’s one of my favorites!’ -M.P.

‘Oh, that’s a good one! I’m totally down to see that. I hope you don’t mind, I’m a bit of a screamer.’ -A.R.

Both of them immediately gasped and blushes came upon their cheeks as they both reread what she had texted. As Abby was mentally beating herself up and inappropriate scenes came into Marcus’ mind, she was quick to try to send out a recovery text.

‘I mean with horror movies! I mean I get scared pretty easily.’ -A.R.

One the other side of the phone, Marcus was still trying to recover. He was trying to control his breathing as he kept rereading her text. Oh, how he wanted to explore that further, which scared him. Here they were only a few days from their first meeting, and he never wanted someone more as much as he wanted Abby.

‘You can hold my hand if you want. I don’t mind. Am I still picking you up at 11?’ -M.P.

‘Yes, we are still on for 11. Just text me when you are about to leave, and I’ll text you, my address. Are you sure it’s okay to hold your hand though? What if I don’t want to let go?’ -A.R.

Abby softly bit her lip. She was never this fast to flirt with someone. She was more the reserved shy type, and it normally took her a while to feel comfortable with doing it. Marcus brought something out of her, and she liked it.

‘Of course, you can. I promise to hold it tight and protect you from any werewolves. Lol’ -M.P.

‘My own personal F.B.I bodyguard. How did I get so lucky! Well Agent Pike, I better start getting ready. Don’t forget to text me for the address.’ -A.R.

‘Alright I better figure out something casual to wear then. See you in a little bit Abigail Rose.’ -M.P.

Once they got off the phone, Marcus took Abby’s advice and went with something casual like he had originally planned. He then headed into the bathroom and turned on the shower. As the room began to fill with steam, Marcus looked at himself in the mirror and sighed. Yet another problem that he had. He had made the decision of finally getting to shave his beard and cut the hair that he had been sporting since his last undercover mission which was months and months ago. Now with a clean-shaven face, the prominent bruise and cut that he had on his cheek was more visible now. He couldn’t wait for the stares he was going to get. Marcus just hoped that Abby didn’t mind.

As Marcus got ready, Abby was anxiously getting ready as well. She was all showered and was in nothing but a towel as she tried to figure out what do to with her hair. Figuring she might as well curl it, Abby plugged in her curling iron when a knock came upon her bathroom door.

“Abby, it’s Louise, do you have any extra toothpaste in there?”

She looked underneath her sink and saw an extra box to give to her sister. “Yeah, come on in. I’m just getting ready.”

Louise carefully opened the door to make sure that her big sister was decent. “Dang already getting ready. You must be excited then.”

“Yeah, for the first time in a while I am actually very excited for a date. Marcus has been so respectful and amazing every time we talk or text,” Abby smiled. “He really has been a fresh breath of air.”

“Does it bother you though?” Louise asked as she hopped up on the sink.

“Does what bother me?”

Louise tried to play it cool and hide the jealousy on her face. Nobody knew at the time that she had a crush on Marcus. “Does it bother you that he is way older than you? I mean you are barely graduating college for crying out loud.”

“You know what, I think that’s the only thing we haven’t talked about yet. But I don’t care about our age difference anyways. We are both consenting adults. As far as I’m concerned, I like him, and he likes me. We can deal with logistics later. Besides, dad is also older than mom.”

“Yeah, but like only three years. I’m pretty sure Marcus is way older than that.”

Abby just shrugged her shoulders, “Again, that doesn’t bother me, and it sounds like he doesn’t mind either if he still wants to go out with me. Also, if his age was such a big deal, I don’t think mom or dad would approve of me going out with him and dad wouldn’t have introduced me to him.” Abby didn’t know why her sister was making it such a big deal. As much as she thought that it didn’t bother her, it got her to start rethinking that maybe she should.

Louise could now see that the wheels in her big sister’s head started to turn. She didn’t start drama or anything, but she didn’t want to see her sister get hurt. “Look Abby, I don’t mean to be a pain alright. I just want you to make sure that it’s all good. I don’t want to have to beat Marcus up because he hurt you.”

“Well, I appreciate that Lou, but nothing is going to happen. Besides, I don’t think you could beat up Marcus anyways. He works for the F.B.I. remember,” Abby laughed.

Louise rolled her eyes slightly annoyed, “I know that Sherlock. But we don’t have an older brother to intimidate him or scare him, so I have too.”

“I know just giving you a hard time sis. I’ll be careful, I promise. Now can you help me curl the back of my hair. I can’t see a damn thing with this mirror,” Abby smiled holding out the curing iron.

“Sure, no problem.”

A couple of short hours later, after texting Abby for her address, Marcus had pulled up in his car. He nervously took his sweaty hands off the steering wheel as he could feel the sweat stinging the healing cut on his hand before wiping it on his jeans. He was astonished with how he was acting. He had never been this unsure or insecure before a date before. This woman was already changing him, and he liked it.

After getting out of the car and running his hands through his now short hair, he went up and rang the doorbell. It took a second or two for someone to answer, but he eventually heard the lock turn and the door open to reveal Louise. “Oh, hey Marcus, please come in. Abby is just grabbing her things.”

“Thank you, Louise, how are you doing today?”

“I’m alright. I’m just babysitting Anna today since mom and dad are at the shop right now,” she explained. Anna was their eleven-year-old sister.

“That’s very nice of you,” Marcus smiled. “I promise I won’t keep your sister out too late. I know a teenager like you would want to spend a Saturday night with your friends.”

Louise just sighed, “Yeah well, we will see. I may just stay in tonight. I have tons of homework to do, and I have a huge paper to write.”

Marcus chuckled remembering his school years and was happy to be past them. “Well, if you need any help, I have always been great with writing. English was my favorite subject.”

Louise blushed at Marcus’ offer, “Yeah that would be great. I appreciate that, Marcus.”

They then heard footsteps coming down the stairs. When they turned, they saw Abby was standing there smiling shyly. Marcus was absolutely floored. She looked stunning standing there in her light blue summer dress with her long brown hair curled and draped over her shoulder. Her makeup was done lightly even though Marcus thought she was still beautiful without it. He also loved how the converse shoes that she was wearing complimented her outfit.

“Wow, you look incredible,” Marcus complimented as he felt himself breathe again.

Abby’s cheeks blushed as she pushed a stray curl behind her ear, “Thank you Marcus. You look great too.” He was wearing a black t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans that looked great on him. “I’m liking the clean-shaven look too. But your poor cheek. It looks like it really hurts.”

Marcus frowned and mentally kicked himself for shaving. “Oh umm...it doesn’t hurt too bad. I was hoping that it would go away before today, but I guess not. I really hope this doesn’t affect us going out today.”

“Oh Marcus of course not. I don’t mind at all. It’s just one aspect of your job. Does it bother you?”

“Normally not, but I don’t want people to get the wrong idea. I don’t want them to judge us, to judge you for being seen with me,” he told her honestly. He could care less of what others thought about him, but for her, if anyone said anything Abby, he would make them regret it.

“Here, come with me,” Abby reached out to take his hand.

“What?”

“Just come with me,” she then gently grasped his good hand and led him back upstairs.

They walked down a hallway till they reached a door on the right. It was her room. Marcus chuckled at the pick pastel walls and painted unicorns that were covered by boy band posters. “Nice room.”

“Hey, I’ll have you know that I have been in this room since I was like two. I never got around to do a real remodel over the years,” Abby defended herself. “Now sit on the bed.”

“What are you doing?”

He watched as Abby went through a bag that was on her desk. “Well, I figured we can try to cover up your bruise if you are afraid that it’s going to be a distraction. Now stay still.”

“Do you think that this is going to work?”

“Maybe, but we will see,” Abby then proceeded to gently apply the concealer to his bruise while being very careful to not get any makeup on his cut or stitches.

Marcus was amazed with how soft and gentle she patted the sponge on his cheek. He could feel her finger that was caressing his jaw, every now and then as she concentrated. From the angle that they were in, Marcus weas able to get a closer look at her face. He thought it was so cute how she stuck her tongue out slightly as she focused on her craft. He had to restrain himself as a part of him wanted to reach out and trace the freckles that were scattered across her cheeks and nose. She was absolutely perfect.

Abby didn’t fail to notice him staring at her either. It brought a small smile to her face. “What are you staring at huh? Do you I have something on my face?”

“No, not at all. It’s just...”

“Just what?”

“Your eyes, they are so beautiful,” he smiled. He didn’t notice before, but they were a deep hazel color. So full of life, happiness, and love.

“Thank you, Marcus. You sure do know what to say to make a girl blush,” Abby complimented. God this man was turning her into mush.

“It’s true though,” Marcus replied as he cupped her hand that was on his cheek, “Your gorgeous Abby. Don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise.” He didn’t want to scare her away, but he just couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“M-Marcus”

Neither of them noticed just how close they were to each other now. Abby had leaned so far in with Marcus’ hand on her that their noses were practically touching.

“Yes, my sweet Rose?”

“Marcus I...”

“BOOO!” came a loud voice from behind them, startling them both. They both looked over and saw Anna standing behind them. “Ooh were you two kissing?”

Both of their eyes grew big as Abby took a giant step away from Marcus as he got up from the bed. “Umm...no Anna we weren’t. We were just umm...I was umm...I was umm...”

“She was just helping me hide the bruise on my face that’s all. How are you pip squeak?” Marcus quickly changed the subject.

Anna, whose child mind was quick to forget what she almost saw, ran up to Marcus and gave him a big hug. She often sat and colored with Marcus after school while she hung out at the shop and Marcus had stopped by after work for his usual order.

“I’m not very happy Marcus. I want to go to the park and Louise won’t take me!” Anna crossed her arms and stomped her feet.

“That’s because I have a paper to write you brat!” Louise shouted through the hall as walked to Abby’s room. “I told you that I will take you when I’m done.”

“But I don’t want to wait! There is a big water balloon fight starting and I don’t want to miss it,” Anna cried out dramatically.

Abby groaned half expecting her parents to walk in now. “Girls please! Let’s come up with a compromise here. Anna let’s let Louise work on her paper for a little while longer and then she will take you to the part alright. Louise, you will probably need to take a break anyways and Anna, I’m sure that the water fight will still be going on for a while.” As much as she loved her sister’s, Abby missed the quietness of her apartment back in New York.

“But...but...” Anna pouted as her eyes began to fill with tears.

“Oh, c’mon Anna don’t start crying. I’ll take you in...”

“We can take her,” Marcus interjected causing all three sisters to turn and look at him.

Abby knew Marcus was only trying to be nice and didn’t want him to give into Anna’s temper tantrum. “Marcus, thanks for offering, but Anna should know by now that crying doesn’t mean that she will get her way.”

He, however, already made his mind up, “No really, I don’t mind. As long as it’s okay with you Abigail. I think a nice walk in the park sounds way better than being stuck in a cramped convention center anyways. That will also allow Louise to work on her paper without any interruptions, Anna can go to her water fight, and we can walk around the pond together. Maybe grab a hotdog or something. What do you say my sweet Rose?”

‘God this man is perfect. He can get away with murder with those puppy dog eyes of his,’ Abby thought to himself. No wonder he worked for the F.B.I. It also melted Abby’s heart with how Marcus not only cared for her, but for her sisters too. No other man would have probably done that and give up a date to help her out with her sisters.

“Fine, but you both owe Marcus a big hug and a thank you,” Abby pointed at them.

To which both girls immediately ran up to him and gave him a group hug. “Thank you, Marcus, I’m going to go get my stuff,” Anna happily squeezed him one more time before skipping out of the bedroom.

“Yeah, thank you Marcus.” Louise said gratefully as she also went to her room. If Abby and Marcus didn’t know any better, they could have sworn that they saw her blushing and sighing contently.

Once both girls went off, it was now Abby’s turn to give him a hug of her own. “Thank you for that Marcus. I am so sorry that our date’s been ruined. I promise that I will find a way to make it up to you.”

Marcus just smiled and wrapped his arms around her like he had been wanting to and squeezed her tight. “Don’t mention it Abigail and it’s not a big deal. Those girls have grown on me these past couple of months. Are you still okay with it though? I don’t want you to be mad at me. I just figured we can be comfortable and relax instead of having to push our way past people and have to shout at each other just to hear each other.”

“I could never be mad at you Marcus and now that I think about it, that makes a whole bunch of sense. It does probably beat a sweaty convention center,” she laughed. “Is that option for holding your hand still an option? I don’t think we are at risk for any werewolf attacks now.”

“Of course, that offer is still open. You never have to ask me that any more my sweet Rose,” he whispered into his ear before they pulled apart. He then took her hand into his as they walked out the room and back downstairs where Anna was already waiting for them.

“Man, you two take forever,” Anna mumbled. “Can we go now?”

Abigail just rolled her eyes as Marcus picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. “Yes, we can go now,” Abigail laughed as she tickled Anna’s side.

The three then began their short walk out to the park with Anna over one shoulder of Marcus, while Abby held on to his free hand and rested her head on his free shoulder. They ended up making it to the park just in time as kids began choosing teams. So, Marcus put Anna down so she could run off and join them. The pair then began their walk around the park still hand in hand.

“You were right, this was a way better option,” Abby sighed contently leaning back into him taking in a breath of fresh air. Kids were now running around the park, bicyclists were cruising down the bike path, and barking dogs were rolling around in the dog park.

“Yeah, it’s very nice and relaxing. When I first moved here, I would walk around here to clear my head sometimes or lay in the grass and fall asleep,” he chuckled.

“I can see why, the grass looks so full and lush, so I’m sure it’s comfy. You want to know something though. I have been gone for so long, that I almost forgot the simplest things here. Everything from the traffic, the people, and even this park. I mean I grew up here and never thought that I would forget things like that,” Abby sighed.

They then stopped and sat on a park bench that overlooked the pond and where Anna was currently being hit by water balloons. “So why have you stayed away then? I’m sure you missed everyone,” Marcus chuckled a little as Anna got hit in the bed with a balloon.

“That’s probably the reason why I decided to stay away. I love my family so much and it broke my heart to leave them the first time. I had a feeling that if I came back and then left again, it would have been harder to say goodbye.”

“I totally understand. Your family is really amazing Abigail. They have been so kind to me, a complete stranger. You should be very proud of them.”

“Yes, I definitely am,” Abby smiled. “Listen though Marcus, there is something that I need to ask you. Louise kind of brought it up and it’s got me thinking a little bit, have you thought about the age difference between us. Does it bother you? Because I’m 23 and you are...”

“35 and even though it probably should, it doesn’t. We are both consenting adults. I know other people may not agree with it, but I don’t care what they think. I really, really like you, Abigail. You are a remarkable person that makes me smile every time we talk. These past few days just getting to know you have been incredible. I would really like for this to continue if you want to,” Marcus told her now taking both hands into his.

Abby with tears in her eyes nodded like a crazy woman, “Yes, yes, I would like to continue this too. You are an amazing man Marcus and you have shown so much of your kindness, personality, and care for other people. You make me feel special every time we have talked, because you have actually listened and remembered the things that I have said. I would really like to see where this goes. But what happens when I leave again? I still have a few more months of school left.”

“Then we will deal with it as it comes. We will make it work anyway that we can, I promise. Right now, there is something that I really want to do, and I can’t wait anymore,” Marcus said happily. He was so ecstatic that she agreed to continue this with him.

“What, what is it?”

“Can... can I kiss you?”

Abby moved closer to him and cupped his face with her soft hands, “Yes Marcus, yes you can. You can kiss your sweet Rose all you want.”

Marcus then let out one big smile before he gently leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers. It was a gentle kiss, nothing to crazy, just full of passion. It just sealed the feelings that they had and that they were both willing to make this work. This was going to be the start of something amazing.”

End of Flashback....

If only things had stayed that way. Marcus could recall how happy and in love they were at that moment. It felt like both their worlds had come together and they both fit that missing puzzle piece that they had in their hearts. Oh, how he wished desperately that they could go back to that moment in time. ‘God, I don’t know if you are real or not, but if your plan is for us to break up. Can you please make it not hurt as bad? Or if you could give us a second chance to prove that we can find that love again, that would be great.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #marcus pike x ofc #marcus pike fanfic #marcus pike #marcus pike fanfiction #the mentalist #angst #angst with a happy ending #hurt/comfort #romance #pregnancy #family

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