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forever-rogue · 6 months

Note

My friend, can you believe after all these years I’ve come to finally appreciate Steve as more than a friend?

So I’ve come with a request. A very reluctant friends to lovers w Steve! Maybe Reader has never understood why all the girls love Steve and has always been just a good friend to him until one day. Something just clicks and he’s suddenly seen in a different light all together.

AN | In which you fall for Steve slowly, and then realize all at once 🥺

Warnings | None

Pairing | Steve x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 3k

Masterlist | Steve, Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I think I’m going to be single forever,” you sighed as you sat down across from Steve, happy to see that he’d already ordered your favorite coffee. He raised an eyebrow in greeting as you reached over and squeezed his hand.

“Your date went that well?” he grabbed his own coffee and took a long sip as you shrugged.

“He wasn’t the worst,” you rested your cheek in your hand, “until he dropped me off at home and asked me to suck him off before I got out of his car. So, putting it lightly, I won’t be seeing him ever again.”

“I’m sorry, honey,” he gave you a small smile as you just shrugged. If he was being completely honest, he wasn’t that sorry. Sorry that you had to go through that but not sorry that it didn’t work out. He loathed the idea of you going out with anyone else, “you didn’t deserve that.”

“Thanks,” at least you always had Steve. You hoped that one day you would find a man as good as him. He was everything to you, and you hoped he knew that as well, “one day it’ll work out with someone. Until then, I guess I have to keep kissing the frogs.”

He made a small sound and nodded in agreement. It was then that you noticed the girl behind the counter watched the two of you - Steve - with a wistful look on her face. Your lips drew in a thin line as you tried to hide your eye roll. It wasn’t that uncommon; girls often stared at him wherever you went.

“What?” he nudged your foot under the table and shot you a coy smile, “what’s that look for?”

“Nothing…”

“Liar.”

“Fine,” you leaned in closer so only he could hear you, “that girl behind the counter is practically drooling over you.”

“Oh,” he laughed softly before leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms over his chest, “what’s so bad about that, huh? Are you jealous?”

That made you scoff slightly as you waved your hand at him. That was definitely not the word you’d use. He was your best friend after all, “as if. That’s not quite the word I would use. Annoyed? Bemused? Those are more accurate.”

“Very funny,” this time it was his turn to roll his eyes at you. You stuck your tongue out at him, “would you want to do tonight?”

“I dunno,” to be honest, you were still a little down after your disastrous date, “whatever you want to do is fine, Stevie.”

“Nope,” he stood up and reached for your hand. Motioning for you to follow him, “that’s not what I asked - what do you want to do? You know I’m just happy to spend time with you.”

“Well that’s just the thing, Harrington,” you slipped your hand into his, “I’m just happy to spend time with you.”

And you meant it. Everything was a million times better with him.

“Yeah,” he smiled softly at you, making your heart almost melt, “I’ll pick tonight then and you pick next time. Deal?”

“Deal!”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The two of you were taking a walk around the park to kill some before your dinner reservations, hot chocolates in hand. Steve had surprised you with it since you’d been whining about how much you wanted before meeting up. You were reminded again just how amazing and wonderful your best friend was.

“It’s pretty out,” you mused as you lightly kicked a big pile of golden and orange leaves. It was almost winter, and you were taking advantage of the weather before it got too cold to do anything for a few months.

“It is,” he agreed, but he wasn’t looking at any of the nature surrounding you. He was looking right at you, “it really is.”

Before you could say anything else, you heard a small scream coming from near the playground. The two of you looked at each other before rushing towards the sound. When you reached the jungle gym, you found a young girl sitting at the bottom of the slide, crying as she held her leg.

You looked around but didn’t see any adults nearby. Steve didn’t waste a moment before handing you his cup and going over to the small girl. A couple of other kids were still running around and playing, but a few stopped to watch him.

“Hey sweetheart,” he dropped to his knees so he was on her level, his voice soft and gentle, “what happened?”

“I fell off the slide and hurt my leg,” she looked at him with big, wide eyes, cheeks wet with tears, “it hurts really bad.”

“Can I take a look at it?” your heart melted at how gentle and tender he was. Steve just had such a way with everyone - but kids especially. It definitely made you feel some kind of way. The girl nodded immediately, her dark curls bobbing as he looked at her leg. He made a few sounds before reaching up and wiping away some of her tears, “the good news is that I think you’ll be just fine. The even better news is that you’re super brave for how well you handled this.”

“Promise?” she asked and Steve held out his pinkie to her.

“Pinky promise,” he grinned as she laughed softly at him, “did you come here with your parents?”

“Yeah,” she looked around, “they were going for a walk and said they’d be back soon. I was just playing with the other kids.”

“Maybe we should go and find them, huh?” he ruffled her hair and she nodded, slowly attempting to stand up. Steve held up his hand in order to help steady her and she gladly took it, “what’s your name?”

“Lucy,” she reached for his hand and started to slowly walk. Her knee was skinned, as it often happened with kids, but otherwise she was unscathed. She paused and looked up at her savior, “what’s your name?”

“Steve,” he told her and she looked over at you. Steve followed her gaze and smiled at you before offering her your name. Lucy grinned and waved her small hand eagerly at you.

“Is she your girlfriend?” she loudly whispered to him, making you laugh softly as you pretended not to hear, “she’s really pretty.”

“She’s my best friend,” there was something about the way he said it that made your heart feel a little bit of a pang. It just didn’t sound quite…right. But you weren’t going to question that just yet, “she’s really nice too. C’mon kiddo, let’s go and find your parents.”

“Okay,” Lucy started to pull his hand and marched in the direction of where her parents would be. Steve followed diligently behind her, shooting you a wink as you trailed after the two of them. Yeah… this was definitely making you feel something.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Over the next couple of weeks it was like something had shifted in the way you viewed Steve. Not that you’d ever had anything but love for him, but it was starting to feel a little…different. It felt like you were seeing him in this new, honeyed golden light.

It was like you were noticing so many things about him for the first time, despite the fact that he hadn’t changed a single thing about himself. You noticed how he always held the door open for others, how he helped anyone that needed, when he’d let people in line go in front of him, when he’d pay for someone else’s coffee just to make their day. The way that people, especially women, always looked at him in wonder, suddenly made sense. He was just…everything. And you’d been so oblivious the whole time.

“What’s wrong?” You were at the grocery store with Steve, but you’d stopped mid aisle when you saw him helping some with getting a few things off a high shelf. He turned back to you and gently tugged on your sleeve, “are you okay? You’re being weird.”

“You’re being weird,” your face was practically burning at having been caught daydreaming about your best friend. He snorted in amusement, “sorry, just thinking.”

“Must be something important,” he gently tugged you along, back over to the car, “if it’s got you so distracted.”

“It’s…” you. But you weren’t about to admit that just that so randomly in the middle of the grocery store on a Saturday afternoon. Maybe you’d never admit it. You weren’t completely sure yet, “nothing. It’s…nothing at all.”

“You sure?” he looked concerned for a moment, giving your hand a small squeeze.

“Positive,” you really liked the feeling of his hand in yours. You’d never noticed just how much, “just been feeling a little…off lately I think.”

He tutted softly, stopping to look at you fully. He reached up and took your face in his hands, looking to make sure there wasn’t anything he’d missed. Steve gently turned your head from side to side and hummed softly, “just as I thought.”

“What?” your lips pulled into a pout as you wondered what he could possibly say, “Steve.”

“You’re a horrible liar,” he concluded as you scoffed, reluctantly pulling his hands away from your face. He was getting too close to unnerving you and making you spill your guts out. You weren’t ready to. Ugh. He laughed softly before wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you for a hug, “but I love you regardless.”

Part of you was convinced that he knew exactly what was going on in your mind and he was doing this to torture you, “love you too.”

This was going to be a whole situation. You just knew it.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Tonight was the night you were finally getting to see the movie you’d been thinking about for months. You weren’t sure if Steve actually wanted to see it, but he was a good sport for being willing to go with you. In true Steve fashion, he’d even paid for the tickets and all the snacks you’d both wanted.

“I’ll get all this stuff if you can grab the popcorn,” he took the stuff without even waiting for an answer. He shot you a quick wink, “thanks.”

You smiled at him, watching as the cashier watched him go as she got your bag of popcorn together. He really did women longing after him left and right; you could understand why. He was good looking and an almost golden retriever of a human being.

“Your boyfriend is very sweet,” the woman had a big smile on her face as you raised an eyebrow in confusion. What boyfriend was she talking about? You looked around to see if there was anyone else remaining in the theater lobby. The only person you spotted was Steve.

“I don’t…”

“And so handsome too,” her voice sounded almost dreamy as she looked between the two of you. You made a small sound before taking the bag of popcorn that she slid across the counter and slowly made your way back to Steve.

“Everything alright?” he asked softly as the two of you started to walk towards the designated theater, “you look…worried.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you promised with a stiff smile as he opened the door and ushered you in. You were surprised he managed it all considering his arms were full of drinks and snacks and you were only carrying the popcorn, “thanks, Stevie.”

He hummed in content as you picked out a pair of seats away from others near the top. You settled in and made yourself comfortable, finding yourself leaning into Steve’s warm body. He smiled as he put his arm around you, causing goosebumps to raise on your skin.

You’d been wanting to see this movie since you’d heard about it months ago. You’d even picked out the perfect evening to go, when the theater wouldn’t be too crowded and you could enjoy the experience. But…you couldn’t focus on it at all; your mind kept drifting back to Steve. There was something in the way that lady had spoken about him that got to you.

Steve who had always been there for you. Steve that had been your best friend since the day he met you almost five years ago. Steve that would do - and has done - anything for you.

And that’s when it hit you. He wasn’t just your best friend, he was your everything. When you put the pieces together it made sense why people often thought you were together. Now you just had to figure out what to do with your revelation.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You hadn’t taken much of the movie in and Steve had noticed. Though it wasn’t hard to pick up on the fact that you were distracted when you weren’t responding to a single comment or question from Steve.

The two of you walked back to his car in relative silence, a small distance that felt far too great between your bodies. Before you could open the passenger side door, Steve leaned against it and softly shook his head, “what’s going on? Are you sure you’re-”

“I’m in love with you.”

Well. That hadn’t entirely gone to plan. Not that you were sure you even had a plan. It just short of…happened.

“What?” he laughed nervously, raking a hand through his hair. He was pretty sure that he’d heard you correctly, but also didn’t want to flatter himself. Not yet anyway.

“I…I think I just realized during the movie,” your entire face felt way too hot, especially with the cool winter breeze that was surrounding you, “and it just…caught me off guard.”

“Off guard?”

“I…I think I’ve always known I just never…realized,” you whispered, turning your face down towards the ground, studying the laces of his sneakers. Steve wasn’t quite sure how you felt about the revelation, “but now I know. I’m sorry.”

“W-what? Why are you sorry?” you looked up at him, his big brown eyes all soft. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, unsure if he was serious or not.

“Because. I think I’ve just ruined our entire friendship,” you threw your hands up in exasperation, “because it’s going to be weird now that I know I’m in love with you and you don’t feel the same way.”

“Whoa,” he reached for your hands and gently wrapped his long, slender fingers around your wrists, “who said I didn’t feel the same?”

“But you don’t…I,” you stopped for a moment and thought about it. Oh. Oh. Steve beamed as he watched you come to yet another huge realization, “you love me?”

“Duh,” he teased in that gentle tone you loved so much, “took you way too long to catch up.”

“How long?” how long had you been blind?

“About five years.”

“But we met…five years ago.”

“I know,” this time he flashed you a shy smile as your expression softened. He’d been there this entire time but you had been so blind to him. Everything you’d been searching for and wanting had always been, quite literally, right in front of your face.

“Steve,” you looked down at your hands, were still safely and warmly developed in his, “Steve.”

He brought one of your hands to his lips and pressed a kiss to your knuckles. You warmed at the touch and it took everything in your power not to jump on him then and there and kiss him silly. He must have been thinking the same thing, “I’ve waited a long time to ask you this, but umm, can I kiss you?”

“Yeah,” you knew that, deep down, you’d been wanting him to ask for so long, “yes.”

He took your face gently in his hands, brushing his thumb over your cheek as he studied you intently. It was almost ridiculous just how far gone he was for you, “you’re so beautiful.”

Before you could argue with him, and he knew you well enough to know that you would, he leaned in and brushed his lips against yours. It was gentle at first, testing the waters to see what it was like for both of you. You couldn’t help but lean into him, sighing softly at his touch. That seemed to be all he needed in order to deepen the kiss, and you wrapped your arms around him.

Neither of you wanted to break apart and only broke apart very reluctantly when you were desperate for a breath of air. The two of you exchanged shy, but happy smiles before laughing. You opened and closed your mouth, trying to find the right words but there didn’t appear to be quite anything to properly convey everything you were feeling. You touched his face, ghosting your fingers along his freckles. He put his hand on top of yours and squeezed gently, “I know.”

“Oh,” you looked up and a few drops fell on your cheeks, “let’s get out of here.”

“Want me to take you home?”

“I want you to come with me,” you whispered, “I don’t want to say good night just yet.”

“Me neither,” he opened the door for you and helped you inside before gently closing the floor and going around to slide into the driver’s seat, “does this mean I can kiss you all the time?”

“Yeah, Stevie,” you grinned at him, “you can kiss me anytime.”

“Good,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “‘cause I’m going to be doing that a lot.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington one shot #st #joe keery

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becomingmina · 6 months

Note

I need smthing with Felix getting angry at u for going out and getting drunk n he broke his promise of not going to bed mad but he makes up for it in the morning

MAD. anon request w/ LEE FELIX.

18+ ONLY! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

pairing: felix x female reader genre + warnings: established relationship, light angst, light suggestive at the end, reader cries wc: 1.7k mina's notes: spin on it a little bit I think Y/N should be make it up to him hehe because lix is perfect and he deserves to be shower in affection and love

mad master list here ; other works here ; any comments and thoughts you can drop them here ; ty for reading.

“Are you mad at me?” You draped your arm across your boyfriend’s stomach as he laid on the bed. He doesn’t reply, just staring up at the ceiling.

“Felix?” You rub his abs, trying to butter him up with your touches to ease the tension. He hasn’t touch you back or spoken to you since you got home so you know something was up.

“What do you think Y/N?” he replies sternly.

“I’m sorry,” you reply, pecking his cheeks.

“Stop,” he turns to his side removing your hand off him in the process.

“But I’m sorry,” you only moved closer to him letting your chest press against his back. Arms around his waist again, snuggling your face on the back of his neck.

“Stop it Y/N,” Felix snaps and you remove yourself completely off of him, sitting up in the process. “I told you that we can spend all evening together but you just had to go out and get drunk,” Felix continued and you feel your chest start to grow heavy. Oh yeah, he was angry.

“That’s not it. You then called me to pick you up, knowing that I have to wake up early. You know how needy and difficult you are when you’re drunk?! Weren’t you the one who was begging for time together all week? Well here goes your precious time!” You couldn’t see him but you know his jaw is clenched and his brows are furrowed. He has never yelled at you like this before and the aftermath of the shots you took before wasn’t helping you stay calm.

“I’m sorry Felix, I just missed you,” you replied back, unsure of what to do in a situation like this, you started hugging him again but Felix continued to push off your touches.

“Just go sleep! You’re so annoying!” You retracted your actions.

“Okay.” You replied softly almost a whisper, feeling defeated. And with that you laid back on the bed, turning over letting your backs face each other’s.

You tucked your hands in the crook of your neck as you stare at the wall. You know he was upset with you but the way he lashed out like this hurt you, especially when you’re intoxicated. Tears fall from your eyes as you replay the scenario. All day he’s been occupied on his laptop, head phones in as he works on his new song. You’ve tried to make him eat but he refuses every time and when you go near him he scoots away further. You thought you were being a good girlfriend letting him have the apartment to himself by going out with the other boys’ girlfriends. But you see how you went wrong when you got drunk and then called him to come get you. And not just that, you understand how difficult you get when you’re intoxicated, having Felix help you with everything - taking off your shoes, removing your make up, everything. Usually he would love to but he had so much work and stressed piled up. It was your fault he’s mad, you are annoying you got it, but only because you missed your boyfriend.

You tried your best to keep your composure but not having your Felix hold you to sleep or reassure you that you guys can sort this all out later, makes you break down, sniffles leaving your nose.

He was never this angry, he never yelled at you. Felix was always the one who fixed the issue on the spot. Never had he let you go sleep without a resolution as he knew how much it will played in your heads.

Felix was exhausted, he was done for the day. Your actions really put him on edge today and he needed you to understand he can’t always give into you. He closes his eyes, trying to calm himself down. He hates to go to sleep like this but quite honestly, he was exhausted, soon drifting into sleep. You stay up a bit longer, unable to stop replaying the situation in your head and also hoping he’ll turn around to hug you. But he never did and eventually your body gave in to sleep as well.

His alarm woke you up, the phone vibrating the bed. You opened one eye searching for the time, it was still pretty dark outside the blinds. It was only 5am, two hours since you both went to bed. You couldn’t even open your eyes probably, fatigue still taking over. You feel guilty knowing Felix would have been more tired than you. You hear him shuffle around on his side of the bed, the linen touching each another as he reaches for his phone, pausing the alarm then placing it back on the bed. You can still hear the sheets move about for a while until silence again.

You wanted to make it up to him, just something, a small gesture to say you’re sorry. Usually he gets up earlier before he has to leave, to eat so he’s not too sensitive on the way to work. You wanted to make it up to him with pancakes, allowing him to sleep in a tiny bit more. You hear his alarm ring again and you turn around to locate his phone but it was on the other side of him. Not wanting to reach over him afraid he’s going to around to wake up or get mad at you again, you got up from bed to walk around. As you reach for his phone, he opens his eyes and grabs your wrist pulling you back into bed with him.

“Hey baby,” he said gently, pulling you close to him, arm wrapped around your back as you both face each other.

“Hi,” you sniffled back, still cautious of how he was feeling.

“You okay?” His tone was ever so sweet making sure not to feed into the tension anymore.

“Mhmm,” you nodded but the corner of your lips pulled down. A wash of emotions runs over you again at how gentle he is being with you even though you were in the wrong.

“Hey Y/N, are you okay?” He asked again, through heavy eye lids, knowing well you were still so sad.

“No, I’m sorry, Lix I,” you started to rumble, tears falling on your face, feeling guilty of everything you did to him yesterday.

“Shhh I know. You’re sorry. I forgive you okay?” He cuts you off, knowing it’s not fully your fault, you just wanted to spend time with him.

“I didn’t mean to annoy you last night.”

“It’s okay baby. I’m sorry too,” one hand comes to your cheek to wipe away your tears as he gave you a small smile.

“No, you shouldn’t be,” you reply starting to relax a little bit, having your boyfriend speak to you again.

“No, I’m sorry for not giving you any attention yesterday and I’m sorry I yelled at you, you’re not annoying,” his hand starts to run through your hair, giving you more reassurance. “And I’m sorry for going to bed mad, it’s something I know I should have never done. You probably felt so hurt.”

“A little,” you chuckle softly, giving him a smile.

“I promise I still love you. It’s just work. I’m drowning but I have no right to get mad at you.”

“Lix it’s ok. I forgive you,” you peck his nose, leg hoisting over his thigh, hand sliding under his shirt finding its place on his bare stomach. Something about physically touch during the most quiet hours of the day both made your hearts soft. Your heart fluttered at these small moment.

“Yeah?” Felix replied placing a kiss to your forehead, the tension fully eased now.

“Hmmm, ofcourse. But you should get up. Maybe you can hop on the shower while I make you pancakes. I don’t want you to be late,” you trace circles to his bare back, admiring how pretty he looks even at his tired state, he can barely open his eyes back at you.

“The boys cancelled it for today. Seems like they were also upset at their girlfriends hey? They running one 2 hours sleep like me,” he giggles raising his eyebrows giving you a cheeky look, as fingers draws circles on your thigh.

“I’m sorry,” you giggle back, just getting lost in his big bright eyes.

“Can you make it up to me though?” He asked, flicking his eyes from your eyes to your lips then back up, silently asking you to kiss him.

“Yeah I can,” you move closer to his face, lips just grazing onto of his just to tease him for little bit. You let out a chuckle when you see him move his head forward to chase your lips. You give in, pressing your lips to his plump ones. The kiss started of gentle, soft but soon after Felix was kissing you back harder. He was so needy, one hand coming to the back of your head as he locks you in place and the other grazing the skin under your shirt. The room was filled with the sounds of your tongues in dancing in other’s mouth exchanging salvia and the little moans that you both fail to keep inside.

“I missed you. You feel so soft baby,” Felix says in between the kisses before pulling back so you both can catch a breath. You look at him, unable to control your silly smile and he returns back the same dorky look.

“But I’m not fully happy yet baby, you know what you can do to make it up to me?” He asks almost shy the way his eyes flicker around unable to hold contact.

“What is it?”

“Move your leg higher,” and you obeyed, moving it slightly above his thighs. “A little bit more,” And this time he helps you drape your legs over his groin area, hitting something hard in the process. Your eyes widen at the contact, his hard on was now pressing against your thigh. He just smiles, cheeks a bit pinks as he’s patiently waiting for you to take initiative. You can’t help but smile at his cuteness, leaning in forward to kiss him again as your hand is now palming him ontop of his pants.

Song of the day 🎧

#becomingmina #felix smut #felix angst #felix fluff #Felix request #stray kids felix suggestive #felix suggestive #skz x reader #felix x reader #felix x y/n

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maivolpe · 1 year

Text

as long as you’re with me (you’ll be just fine)

summary: you neglect an injury to be able to see your boyfriend. he, however, sees right through your charade.

a/n: my first "full" one-shot! this is a reminder to take care of yourselves or else. i hope you enjoy ♡

･｡ﾟ: ∘◦☾◦∘｡ﾟ.

pairing: bucky barnes x reader cw: descriptions of blood, stitches, wounds, needles, bucky dog-earing a book wc: 1.5k

the lights were dimmed when you arrived home, battered and bruised. you almost sank to your knees upon entrance, the exhaustion from the day coursing through your body. you dropped your backpack just inside the door with a resounding thud. you'd deal with it later.

your suit still stuck to your skin unpleasantly, the slick feeling of blood still coating your leg. it had taken a few minutes to even realize you had been stabbed, but that was a small mercy. it was a sharp pain like you'd never felt before, and the heat of it all tortured you through the rest of the fight. you had lost the feeling, for a few fleeting seconds, thanks to adrenaline, but now it was back. and worse than before, as your stupid suit rubbed against the wound.

shower, was the plan. shower everything off, bandage it up, and pretend like nothing happened. then you would get to spend the time with bucky that you missed on the mission.

"baby?"

his voice echoed softly across the room, and you squinted before realizing that bucky was tucked under a pile of blankets on the couch. only his eyes, his nose, and his battered copy of the hobbit showed. you laughed breathily, slowly making your way across the room to him. "hey, lover."

he dog-eared his page, causing you to wince internally, and struggled out of the blankets he had trapped himself in. his eyes flitted over your face, taking in your features. the small crease in your forehead, the bags under your eyes. the little tilt to your head, because... you were favoring one leg over the other. busted.

"where are you hurt?" he asked, though he already knew.

you groaned, defeated, and displayed your left leg in front of him. though your suit was still on, there was a sickening stain of blood collecting where you'd quickly wrapped it up and tied it off before leaving the compound.

"it's really not a big deal, doesn't hurt that badly. don't worry about me!"

bucky cocked an eyebrow at you, and reached for your leg. he gently bent your shin backwards, eliciting a hiss of pain from your lips.

"sure, princess. not that bad. sit down."

he headed off to the bathroom to fetch the kit, and you let yourself slowly sink onto the couch.

"if it was bad they wouldn't have let you leave," he called from the other room. "knife wound?"

"yeah," you answered. "i kind of... hid it? but i think they knew you were gonna patch me up regardless."

bucky walked back into the room, his bare feet grazing the carpet. "i'm nothing to you but a nurse."

you laughed and leaned forwards, trapping his lips in a soft kiss. it tasted like heaven after a long day of granola bars and the metallic tang of your own blood. but then again, it always tasted like heaven.

"hottest nurse i ever met."

he chuckled, tying his hair up to keep it out of his eyes and squatting down to see your thigh in the dim lighting. "don't tell sharon that."

he slowly untied the cloth you'd had tied just above your knee, muttering "crude" before letting it fall to the floor. while it wasn't completely soaked through with blood, you still looked away from it, instead watching bucky's jaw set as he pulled out a pair of scissors.

"'m just gonna cut your suit here," he assured. "you've got like fifty of 'em anyways."

you nodded your assent, laying back on the cushions as you heard the tear of fabric. he hissed upon seeing the wound, a three- or four-inch gash just above your knee. it was probably three-quarters of an inch deep, he figured. dried crimson covered every available inch of skin. if it had happened to himself, he wouldn't have cared. he had plenty of scars, and the serum would help to heal it fast enough that it didn't matter.

but to his girl?

he was filled with a rage he hadn't felt since the forties, when steve would show up bloodied and bruised, acting as unaffected as you were right now. he'd been against you going on missions in the first place - while he knew you were capable, he couldn't protect you in the field. he wanted, needed to protect you. but he knew the best way to do that would be to help now, to clean you up, and so he did.

"how're you feeling, pretty girl?" he asked, moving to the faucet in the kitchen. he ran the water over a clean cloth, never taking his eyes off of the couch where you lay.

you pressed the heels of your hands to your eyes, sighing. "'m a little dizzy. stitches?"

"mm-hmm."

"ugh."

you closed your eyes - just for a minute - and it felt like the couch would swallow you up, or you would sink right through the cushions. it was quiet, only the ticking of the clock and the hum of the tacky lamp that bucky loved to read by filling the air. they soon faded, and you didn't question why. there was silence for a moment, and the burning in your leg subsided until it was just a dull ache.

your eyes flickered open in surprise at a cool pressure on your lips, parting them just a bit when you realized bucky was holding a glass to your mouth. it felt cool and wonderful trickling down your throat, and before you knew it, the cup was empty and he was pulling it away. he made up for it with the loving look he gave you, though it was tinged with a bit of sadness. it could've just been the shadows, the way the light fell on him, but you knew better.

"hang in there for me, doll," he murmured, sitting back down and pressing the wet cloth to your skin. the sting of the fabric against the gash was more than enough to bring you back down to earth. you groaned, and bucky nodded in sympathy.

"almost done."

he was finished in no time, though it felt like forever, and soon wielded the needle and nylon that you so dreaded.

“here, baby, i got you.” he tucked the end of one of his blankets into your mouth, letting you bite down on it. "ready?"

you nodded, giving him a weak thumbs up. ready as you'd ever be, you supposed.

he went in as quickly as he could, tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth as he slammed out stitch after stitch. you gritted your teeth, your breath hitching. it stung so badly. but it was done as fast as it had begun, and the needle clattered to the ground.

bucky pulled himself onto the couch next to you, his hands moving a million miles a minute. he gently took the fabric from your teeth, laying the blanket softly over your legs, hiding the stitches from view. you held your trembling hands out to him, and they were swallowed up in an instant, deft fingers tracing your veins.

“good job, darling, that was amazing,” he murmured, pressing a tentative kiss to your mouth. your lip quivered and he pulled away quickly, cautious eyes searching for any kind of pain he might’ve caused.

“hey, what’s wrong?”

tears gathered at your waterline, and you sniffled before choking out, “you treat me so well.”

he smiled, but knitted his eyebrows together in confusion. “you’ve been stabbed. do you think i wouldn't help you?”

“no i know you'll always help, but… i don't think i deserve it. i didn’t do amazing. it hurt.”

he laughed. “pretty girl, when i had to sew myself up for the first time, i was cussin’ and screamin’ everywhere. you didn’t even make a single sound.”

"well then i shouldn't have gotten stabbed," you grumbled.

he pulled you into his arms. “you got through the fight, first of all, and that's a win in my book. and on top of that, you toughed it out just to come see me, dove. which you shouldn’t have, that was stupid and reckless, but the point here is that you're strong. even stronger than me, i think."

you only hummed, moving your head to rest on his shoulder. it felt as though all of your energy had evaporated from your body, and would float away through an open window somewhere. the rumble of bucky's voice deliberately softened, proving your exhaustion did not go unnoticed.

“want me to sleep on the couch with you tonight?”

you hummed, leaning forward to kiss his neck as your way of saying yes. he chuckled again, the sweet melody of his laughter bringing a ghost of a smile to your tired face. you couldn't see his, but you knew he was grinning.

“c’n you read to me?”

bucky reached for his book, flipping to the dog-eared page. "i thought you'd never ask, dove."

"you know, one 'f these days 'm gonna get tired of hearing about dwarves."

"you won't," he said confidently. "you love me too much."

you snorted, but settled in, tucking your uninjured leg close to your body. bucky tightened his grip around you, reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. he cleared his throat dramatically, coaxing another smile from your features.

“bilbo rushed along the passage, very angry, and altogether bewildered and bewuthered…”

･｡ﾟ: ∘◦☾◦∘｡ﾟ.

ko-fi ♡

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes hurt/comfort #protective bucky barnes #winter soldier #avenger reader #marvel #mai writes

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ghost-proofbaby · 10 months

Text

SO SCARLET (IT WAS MAROON) - CHAPTER ONE: CLOSURE

“IT’S BEEN A LONG TIME, AND SEEING THE SHAPE OF YOUR NAME STILL SPELLS OUT PAIN.”

☆ pairings: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader

☆ warnings: strong language, angst, alcohol consumption, minors dni

☆ WC: 5.1K+

☆ A/N: this will make a whole lot more sense if you've already read the one shot that this entire series is based upon! and thank you to @fracturedarkness and @munson-blurbs for beta-reading <3

thank you to my love @hellfire--cult for the divider!

masterlist

It had taken nearly two hours, and even as the aerial platform is finally lowered from scaling the side of the building, there are still remnants of the graffiti paint scattered across the crumbling brick.

You’d watched the workers scrub at the rusted shades for ages, ignoring the new emails beginning to pile up in your inbox on the screen, only to be left completely dissatisfied. You hadn’t really thought the graffiti was ugly so to speak – it was just there. It was blatant and something that demanded to be seen, a stain on that stretch of wall that made up your desk’s entire viewpoint each and every day. And it wasn’t ugly, but it wasn’t pretty.

You’d even been a little excited when you saw the cleaning crew. A little hopeful.

But the hope had been wasted, as it always was, as you watch the crew give up the battle and the paint win the war. Go figure. Another day and another stain that can’t be erased.

“You know, I’ve heard of dreadfully boring people watching paint dry, but never seen someone look so enticed by paint being removed.”

You look up quickly from where your dead stare had zeroed in, a chipping splash of vibrant scarlet that hardly stood out against tired and faded red-turned-pink bricks, to face your coworker.

“Ha-ha,” you deadpan, spinning your office chair so your entire body now faced her, “Have you ever considered a career change, Romina? Maybe you’re better off a comedian rather than an event planner.”

Romina, your coworker, only smiles brightly at the monotone joke. She holds a mug of coffee in her hand as she rests her hip against the edge of your desk, lips pursed as she takes a slow sip from her steaming cup. The sharp, bitter scent of the coffee wafts across the space before she lowers the mug right onto your desk – completely disregarding the coaster available.

Sure to leave behind a stain; a ring of light brown on your pristine desk. You can’t help but cringe.

“Apparently they sent out an email about that new secretive project,” Romina continues on without addressing your sarcasm, “Said whoever’s got the account has been notified.”

“Awesome.”

“I didn’t get an email.”

“I’m sorry?”

Romina sighs, realizing you weren’t going to take the bait. “Have you received an email?”

You shrug in a silent succession of, probably not.

Your pessimism keeps your hand from reaching out and wiggling your mouse as an attempt to wake your desktop computer back up. You highly doubt you were the one to be elected for this new project that had the entire office buzzing. You’d only been working here for a little over a year, hardly earning any attention with the small weddings and local business grand openings you had taken on during that time.

And that was fine.

You were fine flying under the radar for the time being. It’s not that you weren’t good at your job — you were excellent at it, even — but whatever this top secret project was was the farthest thing from your expertise.

You didn’t do secretive projects. You did simple. You did small. The exact opposite of what you’d heard about this elusive opportunity.

“Have you even checked?” Romina presses, leaning down and tapping your space bar herself, making the screen come to life before you could protest, “C’mon, babe! Aren’t you at least a little bit curious?”

Another honest shrug. “Truthfully? Not at all.”

She makes no move to grab her coffee cup as she pushes herself off your desk, standing over the screen now with intent and focus. All you can really think about is that damn faded ring that’s going to be left behind.

You really wish she would have used the coaster.

The login screen stops her in her mission, making her take a step back and wave you forward, pointing excitedly at your keyboard, “You know, I heard it might have something to do with a very popular band. One rumored to be dropping an album soon. Possibly the album release party. Doesn’t that sound dreamy?”

Your stomach drops.

Romina is all wistful sighs and dreamy eyes as she says it, still pushing that keyboard closer to you as she looks out the window you had been before her arrival. It’s clear she’s looking right past that stained wall. She probably doesn’t even notice the evidence of graffiti that was left behind. The marks are lost on her eyes; but she hadn’t spent hours waiting for it to all be cleaned away, to be fair. No, it’s clear the only thing on her mind is this popular band.

And you know which band it is. It’s not just the prospect of a larger project that has kept you out of this rumor mill — it’s the prospect of the client.

Everyone knew you didn’t care for the band. Or at least, you said you didn’t care for the band.

Nearly a year ago, several coworkers had invited you to a sold out show. They had an extra ticket, and had so kindly extended it to you. A flag of friendship billowing in the wind, outstretched to you in such a welcoming manner. And you’d shot them down — you’d lied, and you’d said you had plans before you’d spent the entire night throwing your own personal pity party.

“I don’t think I’d be the first choice for an album release party, Ro,” you murmur as you finally tug your chair in closer to your desk. You ignore the knots forming in your stomach, that heavy weight that presses into your chest. There was no way you’d be assigned the project. You’d simply log in, show Romina, and then maybe she’d leave you alone, “I usually just take on weddings. That’s my forte. Not arranging open bars and booking rooftops for some shitty band.”

Romina scoffs, “Some shitty band? I know you don’t like them, but Corroded Coffin is not just some shitty band.”

Corroded Coffin. The weight makes your ribs creak, makes your lungs ache.

You swear she’ll notice the way you freeze in your typing. The mere mention of them, of him, curls around your body and easily triggers your fight or flight response.

Well, fight or flight or freeze. A new option, a new and drifting cold, has made itself clear as ice keeps your knuckles from continuing to type in your password.

It’s funny. You used to fight for them, then you’d flown as far away from him as your pathetic diner wages could get you. Clearly, only moving across a city you once thought to be so vast wasn’t far enough. You could move across oceans, and something in your gut tells you his ghost would only be a few steps behind.

“You know, I still don’t get your issue with them, by the way. Are you just not big on rock music?” she asks, and you can imagine his offense and correction that it was metal, not just rock, “I get it’s not everyone’s cup of tea. I don’t know. Just seems a little personal, the way you avoid them like the plague.”

It is personal.

Your vendetta is so, so very personal when it comes to Corroded Coffin.

When it comes to Eddie Munson.

His name echoing in your mind finally has your fingertips slamming keys again, suddenly eager to bring up your email and prove Romina wrong. To get her as far from your desk as possible and end this conversation before you can spiral.

“I’ve never been a fan of that type of music,” you lie through your teeth. You had been. You had been their goddamn number one fan once upon a time.

Your work email can’t load fast enough when she continues on, “I’d argue they have at least one song for everyone. You just gotta give them a chance.”

No, the voice in your head screams. I do not need to give them a chance. I gave him a chance, and he blew it.

“I’m sure there is,” you grit out, those knots in your stomach wound so tightly they might just snap, “But not for me.”

Never for me.

They don’t know. No one in your life now knew about your past, about your ex, about the truth between you and Corroded Coffin.

They didn’t know that you’d been their first fan, standing in that stuffy garage at the Emerson’s residency through the scalding Hawkins’ summers. They didn’t know how you’d spent every Tuesday and Thursday night occupying a stool at the Hideout that had all but your name engraved into it. They didn’t know the way you’d packed up your entire life, the way you’d only moved to this cursed concrete jungle to see all of their wildest dreams come true. They were unaware that Corroded Coffin had nearly turned down the tour that triggered their breakout for you. All because their leading rockstar hadn’t wanted to leave you behind.

Funny how life works out.

Romina is unaware of your discomfort as she leans down over your shoulder to peer at the list of new emails you’d received this morning, “Oh, oh! That one! Click that one!”

Her long, blood-red stiletto nail taps at the screen excitedly, pointing out an email from your boss with an eye catching subject line.

Meeting at Noon — New Project Assignment.

“Holy shit!” Ro exclaims, getting ahead of herself before you’ve even clicked on the email. You can’t click on it. You’re petrified. “Oh, holy shit! You definitely got the project! Are you fucking kidding me?”

For a moment, you’re silent, staring at the screen in buzzing shock. It rings in your ears and it blurs the edges of your vision, the weight of the possibility finally causing the first snap within your chest.

No. No, no, no.

You don’t want this project. Not the rumored client, and certainly not the attention that it has attracted from all your peers. No.

“We don’t even know if it’s going to be what everyone says it will be,” you choke out, white knuckling your mouse. Romina can’t see your face — she can’t see the year of practiced indifference crumbling so easily, “It- It probably won’t be Corroded Coffin, Ro. It can’t be. They wouldn’t assign me something so huge. Th-They probably just have another wedding for me. Maybe another bakery opening up in town — I think I heard about one on Third Street-“

Ro’s hands come down on your shoulders, giving what should be a reassuring squeeze, but it only smothers you during your breathless rant.

“Babe,” she emphasizes, “This is a good thing.”

It’s not. It’s really, really not.

But you don’t know if the project is what everyone has been murmuring about. You don’t know for sure that the email has anything to do with it. The contents of what your boss had written to you have little to no specifics; nothing more than a request to come to her office at noon to properly discuss the details of this assignment. So you convince yourself it’ll be fine, that it really is just about that bakery opening up on third street. You convince yourself to shake away any thoughts of chestnut curls and honey brown eyes. You convince yourself to untense your shoulders and smile up at your coworker, faking enough enthusiasm to satiate her until she’s walking away from your desk giddily, taking her coffee cup with her.

Your eyes avert to the expected coffee mark that had formed a perfect ring on your stark white desk.

Stained. What a pesky thing to become.

—

“I’m not going out tonight,” you repeat yourself for the millionth time over the line, pinching the phone between your shoulder and ear as you opened your fridge to dig around for whatever leftovers you might be able to salvage into a dinner for the night, “I don’t feel well.”

“But we need to hear about the new project!” Ro’s chirp comes over the line. You can hear the buzzing of a bar in the background. Glasses clinking, strangers chatting. Hell, you could probably pinpoint the song playing lowly if you focused hard enough.

You weren’t focusing on the call, though. It was the last thing you wanted to offer up your dwindling attention to, desperate to get off the line and resume your very exciting night of cold pasta with a side of whatever sitcom was running old episodes on the television.

The phone nearly slips from your half assed attempt to keep it against your cheek as you sigh, “It went fine. I already told you guys it did. Nothing exciting, okay? It was the bakery on Third that’s opening up, just like I thought it would be.”

A lie.

The meeting went anything but fine. Your boss, Lydia, has just been plain secretive. And normally, that wouldn’t bother you, but it meant your worst fears were coming true.

The bakery on third wouldn’t have needed such secrecy, and they sure as Hell wouldn’t have insisted on you signing an NDA prior to even meeting and discussing the event you’d be planning.

“It’s all just precautions,” Lydia had insisted as she slid that damn paperwork over to you, “Just to protect the client. They’re a bigger name than we’re used to dealing with. If you sign, we’ll have a proper meeting with them tomorrow and dig into all the nitty gritty.”

“You phrase it like I have a choice,” you had muttered before picking up the pen.

You knew you didn’t. And Lydia’s smile had confirmed it.

Romina continues on with more convincing, but you’ve stopped listening. There’s not a single thing she could really say now that your mind was made up — you were staying in tonight.

“Ro,” you finally snatch the phone back up into your hand, straightening out as you pick out a random tupperware that you think holds chicken parm from that fancy lunch date you’d gone on over the weekend, “I’m not coming out. I’m sorry.”

Complete silence on her end. You worry for a moment that you had been too harsh.

“Okay,” she finally gives up.

“Okay?”

“Okay,” the word continues to echo back and forth between you two, “That’s fine. I’ll just have to bother you about it tomorrow. At work. Where you can’t use bullshit excuses to escape me.”

You consider snapping back about how you absolutely still could, until you consider the fact that you have a real excuse, “Good luck with that. I have a very real meeting with… with a client.”

You don’t even know the name of the client, technically. You can only guess.

You still hope you’re wrong.

“Right,” she laughs over the line, “See you tomorrow, babe.”

“See you tomorrow,” you repeat back, staring at your now closed fridge before you’re relieved by the sound of a dial tone, signaling that she’s finally hung up.

What you should do now is plate the leftovers, arrange yourself on your sofa, and numb your mind with The Office reruns. What you should do is leave well enough alone and continue in your delusion.

You don’t.

It starts innocently; you do transfer the cold chicken parm onto a plate and you do curl up on your sofa before flicking on the television. You do set the channel to the reruns. You do – and you swear you do it all with the best intentions.

But then your mind wanders.

As you stare straight ahead at the television, you’re not processing a single image that flashes across the screen. Your thoughts are a bit preoccupied with different images, movies and snippets from a point in your life that now feels like a lifetime ago. Conspicuous dimples making an appearance from across the room at a joke you had made, unkempt curls flying recklessly in the driver’s seat beside you on late night drives with the windows down, wild eyes shining like sunlight through a whiskey bottle as he catches your gaze from a stage much smaller than what he must be used to now.

Everything from before. Before the not-fight, before the fame, before the move. Images of when Eddie had been yours and only yours, not yet a precious gem to have to share with the world.

“Are you busy tonight?”

Your locker had been slammed shut by a hand that didn’t belong to you, knuckles adorned with familiar rings and distinct callouses along the fingertips.

“Hello to you, too, Eddie,” you smiled as you clutched one of the unnecessarily heavy textbooks to your chest, turning to face the boy who stood impatiently at your side. He was all jitters, rocking on his heels and nearly incapable of standing still as his body buzzed with excitement.

It rolled off him in waves, contagious as he leaned into you, “Yes, yes. Hello, sweetheart. How was your day?” you opened your mouth to answer him, but Eddie comically steamrolled right on, hands waving erratically, “Good? Good! Excellent! Now, are you busy tonight?”

“I was planning to study for O’Donnel’s test-“

“So you don’t have plans!” he exclaimed, throwing an arm around your shoulders as one of the annoying warning bells chimed. He may have been in an interruptive mood, but he knew you hated being late to class — less about being anal about punctuality, and more about the stares you’d practically burn under from the attention of other students when you’d barge in on the teacher mid-sentence, “Perfect. Absolutely perfect. In that case, I have fantastic news!”

You allowed him to guide you amongst the bustling student bodies, only gaining a few stares from fellow peers, “You do, do you?”

He nodded before he reached out and snatched that heavy textbook out of your arms, “Here, let me carry that for you, darling.”

“Darling?” your nose scrunched, “Oh, no. You’re trying to sweeten me up. What did you do?”

“Nothing!”

Liar. The crack in his voice would have given him away if his hyperactive energy hadn’t already done so.

“Oh, really? Then what’s your fantastic news, rockstar?”

His grin that broke at your nickname for him could have destroyed the Earth you walked on just as easily as it could have mended it. Something groundbreaking, something to churn the dirt and raise the dead. Something made of pure sunshine and static happiness. But the only thing that cracked was your chest as it tried to contain the residual joy it felt for him in that moment.

“Well…” he trailed off, leaving just enough room for a suspenseful pause that could have suffocated the room without that damn grin on his face, “Let’s just say you’re looking at the frontman of the Hideout’s newest Thursday night entertainment.”

You took a moment to catch on, Eddie keeping you pressed closely to his side as the two of you stopped outside of your next class.

“Thursday nights?” you questioned, brain working overtime to piece together what he’d just said, “Wait, I thought you guys only played Tuesda-“

When you had processed what he had meant, all that animated elation that had been consuming him became shared. Every jitter in his bones became your own, your own lips speedily spreading into a proud smile to challenge his own.

“Oh, holy shit,” you gasped, “You guys got the gig.”

One more bounce of his heels, curls quivering with the movement as his arms fell from you and the two of you faced one another.

“We got the gig.”

“You got the gig!”

People had been staring more obviously at the sudden rise in volume from you, but you hadn’t cared. Because in that moment, all you focused on was the eager boy in front of you, and the way your broken chest mended from the same grin that had burst it wide open, only for it to swell with inexplicable pride.

“We got the fuckin’ gig!” he shouted right back, laughter slipping from between his lips that started to echo your own.

You were the one bouncing then, hands instinctively reaching out to press on his shoulders in gentle slapping motions, unable to contain or conventionally express this pounding excitement.

“You got the fuckin’ gig!” you were just parroting each other now, but you were just as delirious as he was as that final bell signaling you were late rang out. That certain embarrassment you were sure to have to face had become a distant memory.

Eddie had wanted this for a while. He’d been bugging the owner of the bar on the edge of town about Corroded Coffin earning a second night of residency for months, only taking the repeated rejections as encouragement to ramp up his convincing charm. You’d seriously doubted it would work, but had never voiced the concern aloud to Eddie. You’d always figured that the worst that could have happened would be another no, fuck off, kid. But the best that could have happened had been this — he would be told yes and secure his band two weekly performances at the Hideout rather than just the single one they played before.

You didn’t know it then, but it was the first step down the path that would lead to inevitable heartbreak.

“I haven’t even told the guys yet,” Eddie admitted once the two of you calmed down to the best of your abilities, “I… Uh, I wanted to tell them after school today. Was wondering if you might, I don’t know, maybe- do you wanna be there when I do?”

And that made sense. Eddie inviting you made sense when you attended every single band practice in Gareth’s garage as religiously as he did. When you knew every word to their whole three original songs even better than him at times.

He wanted you there. You were important to him, to the band, and he wanted you there.

“I- Is that even a question?” you stared at him in disbelief, “Of course I wanna be there, you fuckin’ idiot. I can’t believe you told me before you told them, honestly.”

His demeanor softened, the ghost of his exuberance still stubbornly lingering. But your eyes were on him, glowing with such high regard that it was impossible to not let it creep beneath his skin and trigger a blush across the bridge of his nose. All that love, all that pride. So genuine it could have made him cry.

“Of course I told you first,” he whispered in a finally empty hallway, “You’re always the first person I tell any good news to, sweetheart.”

When had you stopped being the first person he shared his forthcomings with?

Probably the day you had decided to leave him, leave the entire life you two had built together, under the guise of best intentions.

The TV continues to play as you stare at the wall, mind and heart alike locked up with nostalgia. The plate of leftovers has long since been sat down on the coffee table.

You hadn’t let yourself reminisce like this since the very first night you had spent in your apartment. That first night, you’d allowed yourself to wallow. You had sat on this very same sofa, the entire apartment pitch black as you weren’t brave enough to turn on a single light and face yourself, and told yourself that any and all tears or regrets had to be purged that night. A funeral for all that you had lost, a single night to mourn all that you had left behind.

Clearly, one night was never enough to let go of years of memories – of love.

You don’t shut off the TV as you impulsively grab your phone, not thinking the action through before you do the one thing you had forbidden yourself from over the last few years; you’re going to Google search Eddie Munson. You’d created the rule as a make-believe step in the right direction. You told yourself if you didn’t google him, if you didn’t track down his every move after you’d left behind the damage done, then you could move on easier.

From the first headline, you realize that it might have never been about moving on.

FINAL NAIL IN THE COFFIN? HAS EDDIE MUNSON, LEAD SINGER OF CORRODED COFFIN, FINALLY GONE TOO FAR?

EDDIE MUNSON — ARRESTED AGAIN?

HOTEL COMES FORWARD ABOUT DAMAGES DONE BY ROWDY ROCKSTAR EDDIE MUNSON

HOW TO BURY A CAREER: A DETAILED TIMELINE OF CORRODED COFFIN’S EDDIE MUNSON’S DOWNFALL

“EDDIE MUNSON GAVE ME A CONCUSSION” - VICTIMS OF THE ROCKSTAR’S CLUB TANTRUM COME FORWARD.

Each headline sends your head reeling, eyes widening impossibly without even clicking on the stories.

The boy you had known wouldn’t have done half of the things these accusations stated. Violence, trashing hotel rooms, public temper tantrums taken too far — it doesn’t feel as though you’re reading about someone you once knew, someone you once loved. The man in these paparazzi photos is a stranger, completely unrecognizable with his red eyes and middle fingers held high.

A particular photo catches your attention. He’s standing outside what you assume is a club, in handcuffs. His hands are locked behind his back, an officer not far behind and his face bathed in glows of blue and red lights flashing from a car half blocking the camera’s view of him, and he’s grinning with dead eyes squinted to the sky. It almost looks as if he’s midlaugh — as if the entire scene was funny to him.

The one time he’d nearly been caught while pedaling drugs for Reefer Rick back home in Hawkins when you’d still known him, he had nearly burst into tears. Had panicked as he scrambled to shove everything, even just the weed, into every possible hiding place within his van. He hadn’t laughed in the officer’s face; he had been petrified, face transforming to that of a terrified little boy as you had told him to calm down and play it cool.

You should stop scrolling. But you can’t.

Another photo, one that makes your chest echo with another hollow pang. It was clearly taken without him realizing it, the quality atrocious as the camera had attempted to focus in on him through a balcony sliding door of what must be a hotel. But despite the terrible blur, you can clearly pick out the details that were meant to be exposed.

A speckle of white coating the ring of his nostril. Made even more obvious by that midday sun shining in on him.

It was clearly the middle of the afternoon, and Eddie had clearly been caught snorting cocaine.

It’s a bit much. You haven’t even scrolled far enough to catch sight of all the pap photos of him with different women, or the photos of him clearly inebriated at major events that had been meant to celebrate him and the band’s success. You lock your phone, you set it down on the table with the screen facing down. You hardly recognize him.

The reality is you had never googled Eddie for the same reason most won’t look at the corpse of loved one’s at open casket funerals – you wanted to remember him when things had been good. You had wanted to convince yourself that you still knew him, some version of him, and that he hadn’t become a total stranger.

But, really, you’d known the moment you had walked out of that once shared apartment that you had lost the privilege of knowing him. Of loving him. The moment he had stopped telling you that he loved you, you had known something between the two of you had died. Losing Eddie hadn’t been a sudden thing — it had been a long, painful, torturous process. When all that love and all that promise had died, it hadn’t gone down without a fight. He had smothered it, but you had provided the extinguisher. You had pushed him to chase after his dreams, and you should have never been surprised when he did exactly that.

You should have never been surprised that one day, the space you’d claimed residency in in Eddie’s heart would become nothing more than an annoying prick to him. A thorn in his side, sharp and threatening all that he had worked so hard to achieve.

So you’d left. You’d left, told yourself it was for the best, and exited with more love for the memory of a man than the tangible person on the other end of that terribly lonely dial tone – on the rare occasions he did call.

You didn’t know him. It’s a truth you should have long since swallowed, but hadn’t. Not yet. Not in the last two years.

Your appetite is gone as you stand from the couch and grab the leftovers, only pausing on your way to the kitchen to scrape the waste off into the trash can. What a waste. As you put away the plate into the sink, not bothering to wash or even rinse away the crumbs, you immediately grab one of your few wine glasses and set it on the counter. Drinking wasn’t the wisest idea, but your body has begun to move on autopilot. And it seems convinced that feeling the buzz from alcohol would be better than the feeling of nothing at all.

You didn’t know him anymore. And the space you’d still let him occupy in your memories, whether you’d wanted to admit it or not, was now hollow.

You turn your back on the glass, still numb and still reeling as you open the fridge and pull out a half empty bottle of merlot, cork half peeking out the top of the bottle. You can see that stained bottom half, almost half hidden in a weak attempt to preserve the wine inside. Maroon. Deep, deep maroon bleeds up and feathers at the edges of that cork as you pull it out fairly aggressively, carelessly tossing it onto the white countertop and not watching it bounce as you pour yourself a drink.

In your hollow staring off into the distance, you don’t realize you’ve missed the glass in your pouring until the chilled liquid splashes at your knuckles – until it’s too late. You panic, grabbing at paper towels and rinsing off your hand in the same breath, but it’s clear that it’s a useless battle in cleaning up the mess you’ve made.

The damage is already done. As you soak up the wine and swipe away, a pink-tinged blotch is still left behind.

Stained. What a pesky thing to become.

ghost's taglist: @emmaisgonnacry @figmentofquinn @bebe07011 @barbedwirebats @ayooooo0 @neverlearnedcivility @munson-enthusiast @digwhatudug @wow-cam @daddysmodifiedprincess2 @cancankiki @gothmingguk @nix-rose @thesesuggestedblognamesbegreat @chevelle724 @madaboutjoe @take-everything-you-can @josephquinnsfreckles @conquerwhatliesahead92

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain

#maroon #my writing #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #eddie munson angst #lowkey terrified to post this oh god #oh well

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chouxsardine · 4 months

Text

He Would---Danny Wagner x reader

A/N: A soft Danny thought, inspired my way home from the grocery run this afternoon and the infamous “If he wanted to, he would”. A little warm-up for Valentine's Day. I hope you like it. Enjoy!

Warnings: none; fluff, boyfriend! Danny; sound sensitivity; slight description of anxiety, unhinged cheesiness

Word Count: 2491

🎧: More Than Words by Extreme

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You are very sensitive to loud noises. Since you were a little kid, all your friends have known that a jump scare is a guaranteed win to get back at you for a prank war. You would scream like a banshee, most definitely fall on your behind, and actually need a moment and several deep breaths to rein in your pounding heart back to normal.

Sure, it’s an annoyance and can cause inconveniences sometimes, but you have lived with it for years and can usually get it under control. Therefore, you never really mentioned it to Danny after you two are together. As the attentive and caring lover that he is, he picked it up all by himself.

The first time that he noticed it, it was a quiet afternoon. You were having a lazy weekend at your apartment, minding your own business respectively—you were nose deep in your chunky historical romance novel, Danny was working his way folding a pile of laundry fresh out of the dryer—the comfortable silence draped over you. He was stealing glances at you from time to time. He couldn’t help it—the sunlight that trembled on your curls with your breathing, the unintentional swaying of your legs that were stretched behind you and bent at the knees, and the way that you were completely unaware of your own natural and effortless beauty. He was just so in love with you. However, the love bubble is punctured abruptly by the noise from a power drill coming from your upstair neighbour. Naturally, you both flinched. Fortunately, the sound only lasted for a few seconds before the peaceful and tranquil atmosphere was restored. Danny noticed that your head was still tilted towards your left shoulder as if flinching from a tickle and your fingers were still pressing into your ears. He opened his mouth, wanted to check in with you, but despite your actions, you seemed completely unbothered, already getting back to your reading. Your hands stayed there for about another twenty seconds, and after that, you were completely normal, as if nothing had happened.

After that, the evidence has been piling up quite self-evidently. There was that night when the storm was particularly vicious. Danny was drifting in and out of conscious, bothered by the thunder and the pouring rain blowing against the window. He felt you stir in his arms. He looked down, and you didn’t wake up; it didn’t seem like you were having a bad dream either. There was just that flinching again—your eyebrows furrowed, your neck craning to the left. Danny carefully reached out and caressed the left side of your face, his thumb brushing feather-light strokes on your cheek. To his relief, you stopped frowning and leaned into his touch subconsciously, nuzzling his hand like a kitten. Danny made sure your breathing went back to normal before he fell asleep again.

There was also that time when you and the boys went to see the fireworks for New Year’s Eve. You were largely distracted by the visuals. The sounds only caught up with you when some of the single-shot aerial salute were fired towards the end. Upon that first loud bang, Danny’s black earmuffs were already around your ears. You turned your head, giving him a grateful look and flashing him a smile. He only squeezed your shoulder reassuringly as the people around began counting down. It happened so naturally that it skipped how he has already not only noticed, but also learned your way to deal with it.

Sure, Danny could have directly asked you. A simple “are you sensitive to loud sounds?” would suffice, but he prefers to let you take the lead. You should be the one who decides when it feels right and comfortable to tell him about it. This is the principle that Danny holds when it comes to most sensitive topics between you. He knows that it takes you longer to open up, so as long as it’s not something urgent, he always waits patiently.

And it did take a while for you to realize that. But once you began connecting the dots, things became abundantly clear. Danny always manages to find a way to make his presence known. The loud ‘honey, I’m home’ every time he dropped his bag at the doorway, the sliding of a steaming mug into your sight when your eyes are glued to the laptop screen and your fingers are flying over the keyboard, the keeping your Adblock software up to date especially during Halloween season so the unscrupulous jump-scares from the horror movie trailers would never get you. You have even joked with Danny how you have stopped accidentally breaking plates or glasses ever since you guys started dating. God knows how many broken ceramics or glasses you had to sweep up when you were with your ex. Danny would never creepily appear right behind you and then scolded you for being dramatic when you are genuinely jumped out of your skin. When he wants to get your attention in the middle of your little dance party, he always changes or turns down the volume of the song that you are playing and lets you notice it yourself.

You also remember that time when Danny found you minutes before he was about to go on stage.

You were about to go to your reserved spot at the side wing when you heard Danny calling your name. “Danny! what are you doing here?” He was all dressed up, the makeup sparkling around his eyelids. He looked so divine, but his breathing was quicker, and he looked a little flushed as if he was in a rush. Well, duh, of course, he was. Curtain was in five, he was not supposed to be here.

“Here,” he dropped something into your palm and spoke again before you had time to see what it was. “I knew you said you’re fine, but I want you to have them just in case.” “Okay, babe.” Given the tight timing, you decided to play along. Plus, you trusted him anyway. With that, he gave you a kiss with pouty lips so as not to mess up his makeup and hurried away at the stage manager’s anxious urging.

When you got a chance to look at the objects in your hands, you recognized it was a pair of earplugs—not two pieces of bright orange foam you found at the dollar store, but the proper ones, the “standing-right-behind-the-barricade” kind that you saw photographers and security guards wear. And they are in your favorite colour too. Your mind instantly went back to that conversation you had when you finally told Danny about your sound sensitivity. He was nodding along attentively and you could almost hear the gears in his brain turning. “What?” You asked, feeling a little self-conscious. “No, no. I was just thinking. You said loud sounds…What about the drums, do they also…” “Of course not!” You laughed, “they are quite the opposite, honestly. I was referring to like, more erratic noises. You drums are nothing like those!”

That was one of the earlier shows that Danny took you to, and those earplugs have been with you ever since.

Whenever you go to concerts, no matter if it’s at the crowded, overwhelming pit, or in a low-lit, intimate bar, Danny always stands behind you — not only to protect you as a human shield from strangers’ unnecessary physical contacts (accidental or not), but also to hug you from behind so that he can sway with you gently along with the rhythm, steal a kiss when the song comes to your favourite part, and catch the tears that slide down your cheek with his thumb when you are so deeply touched by the lyrics.

Today, you were walking down the street with Danny. As a firm believer and the loyal executant of “the sidewalk rule”, Danny was walking on the traffic side of the sidewalk, his right hand is stuffed in the left pocket of your coat, his fingers tangled with yours. This has always been your little tradition when walking together. Danny jokingly named it “save a glove, hold hands”, derived from that infamous cowboy phrase. It was late afternoon, there were few people on the roads. The air was crisp, delectable of the food smell coming from the bistros and restaurants nearby. You were telling Danny about one of the movies you recently watched and was about to get to the juicy reveal of the plot twist when you heard the siren of an ambulance in the distance. Your heart instantly sped up your fingers twitched slightly.

You hated the sounds of sirens; terrified, you’d even say. Among all your noise triggers, they are probably the worst. You have hated it since you were a child; when your cousins would whip out their electric firetrucks and police car models on a playdate, the flashing light and clanking noises always made your skin crawl. Oh, just wait until you find out about the real ones screaming and whizzing by while you walk. It’s not only the high pitched sound, but also the instant reflex in your brain alerting that “something is wrong”, some one is hurting, someone needs help—a fire? a robbery? A car accident? Or could it be an abduction case? Did some grandma slip and fall in the shower, or is a mother unexpectedly going into labor? Images flash before your eyes: blood, yelps, a doctor performing CPR in the moving vehicle… To make matters worse, your deceptive brain offers you to consider the possibility: what if someone you knew is in that vehicle right now? What if they are the ones that was anxiously waiting for the help to arrive? Sure, life is not some soap opera or Lifetime original movie, but….what if?

“Ummmm…and then…then…”

The sound was getting louder, the ambulance was rapidly approaching. You tried to brush it off, faking a cough when you stuttered in your narration. “Come on, get it over with. You’re not going to have a panic attack mid conversation just from hearing some noise. No adults behave like that.” You scolded yourself silently, blinking rapidly as you turned your head away from the street. Just as the howling was becoming unbearable, the next moment, you were wrapped in a hug. Before you knew it, you were tucked in between Danny’s arms. His hand that was previously inside your pocket now snaked around your waist, his other hand holding your head against his chest, his palm covering your ear.

For the next twenty seconds, Danny became your senses. You were engulfed in his scent—mahogany cologne, musk, and the lingering smoky smell on his scarf from the restaurant you just left; his hand pressed against your ears—his big hands, strong fingers, palm dry and warm, radiating his body heat; the sound are all muffled, it was as if you slid into a warm pool—with a protective medium in between, you were safe from the noises. It was reassurance in every possible way.

You felt Danny’s hand gently rubbing your back, his familiar tell-tale sign to slowly welcome you coming back to him. His movements were gradual and calculated. He lifted his palm from your ear little by little, as if peeling open a tub of newly-opened yogurt, letting the exoteric sounds flush back slowly, the slow inflation of a ballon. Gone was the ambulance, along with your anxiousness.

You blinked, forgetting when you squeezed your eyes shut, and collided right into Danny’s eyes—the kind brown paired with the faint hue of an earthy green limbal ring—the undivided attention that makes your head swoon and your knees buckle.

“Hi.” He tucked a strand of loose hair behind your ear.

“Hi.” You shyly replied, pulling his hand back to your pocket as you resumed your walk, lacing your fingers with his.

People were still hurrying to and fro. The cars swooshing by behind you. No one took notice of a hugging couple on the side of the road, or if the did, they would just think it was some cheesy PDA. No one would understand the utter care, gentleness, and intimacy you have just experienced.

Of course he would’ve noticed. Just like he always did. Naive of you to assume that you can fake or hide anything from Danny, your Danny. Little did you know, throughout his time with you, he had trained himself to become the curator of an archive that was you. He could cite chapter and verse of your preferences and abhorrences. He enjoys every minute of it and he is always excited to discover more; he never sees it as a chore or an ordeal, but a labor of love instead; because if he wanted to, he would.

It was by then that you fully understood what Danny really means when he says he loves you with his whole body and his whole heart. It wasn’t the sex or the booze talking, nor the post-show adrenaline. What he means is that he loves you so much that it has become part of his instinct. You are wired into his thought process and will always be part of his consideration for whatever problem he is facing, a constant in the equation. In between choices, you will most often be firmly chosen by him, and in the rare cases that you weren’t, he would have legit reason, which you are certain that you would be sincerely convinced of because you understand that a relationship is about both giving and taking, and that you would do the same for him without any hesitation.

“Oh, Danny.” You sighed contentedly, slightly shaking your head, from the disbelief that a heart is capable of love with such depth that it will permanently mark your soul, from that annoying little voice in your head that makes you wonder what you have done to deserve such a lover like Danny, and from the epiphany which makes you realize that you are smitten by him and will most likely be stuck with him for the rest of your life. It’s a blissful surrender, you wouldn’t have it any other way. There are so much feelings in your heart, but no need to express them at all; because one glance at Danny’s eyes looking back at you with oozing adoration tells you that he fully understands every word you wanted to say down to the punctuations. So much was conveyed in the telepathic silence. There was honestly no greater communication. You know this was the perfect moment that calls for those exact three words, and Danny has already said them to you first, leaving you no choice but to chuckle and say it back.

“I love you, Danny.”

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Yea! You made it! Thank you so much for reading :)) Let me know what do you think or if we want a taglist. Any comments, thoughts, and feedbacks are GREATLY welcomed and appreciated.

My other works: Permission to Fall || Mariner's Complex || Ticked (all my boxes) || Love is a four-legged word || The Lucky Ones || Coming back to me || Warm Honey

#greta van fleet #greta van fleet fluff #danny wagner x reader #danny wagner fluff #danny wagner #danny gvf #gvf fanfiction

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pumpkinickel · 6 months

Text

A Mix-Up || Egon Spengler x reader

Summary: Gender-neutral reader mistakes Elon as Egon (they really do look alike from the back!)

Relationship: Egon Spengler x gn!reader (established relationship)

Word Count: 669

Warnings: Not beta-read, but other than that none! This is just fluffy slice of life

Author's Note: This is actually a little old (early 2022). I'm currently writing for a different piece of media BUT I thought "hey, why not post this now because...why not!" I've always been kinda shy to post my writing on the internet in general but to hell with it tbh ! Cringe culture must die and I love my blorbos past, present, and future too much lol

On AO3

It was a regular, snowy day in downtown New York. Ray was in the downstairs of the firehouse, fixing whatever new problem the Ecto-1 had come up with. Janine was reading some magazine with smart shopping tips while Louis was on the phone discussing taxes, the latter having piles of paperwork on his desk. Business during the holiday season usually slowed down, and that meant getting to spend more quality time with the guys. Peter and Winston were engaging in a friendly but competitive game of pool, and Egon was nowhere in sight. He mentioned something about “bringing a surprise” to the station, baffling everyone since Egon certainly wasn’t the surprise type. You sat on the couch, head propped up by your hand, watching as Peter lined up his shot.

"I never understood this game," you said with a yawn.

Winston had a small laugh and shook his head. "It's alright, kid, neither does Pete."

"Hey!" The other man said as he thrust his cue stick, completely butchering the shot in the process. "I just don't play this game often enough, alright, Z? I got no practice,"

You and Winston share a laugh at the expense of your colleague, Peter placed his hand on his chest in feigned offense. Winston took his shot, clearly doing a better job than Peter as the other man had scowled as the ball went into the hole. As the two continue playing, the sound of familiar footsteps enters the second floor. Turning your head, you smile brightly as you finally see your boyfriend Egon. His back was turned, preoccupied with refilling the snack cabinet in the kitchen. As he rummaged through the seven eleven bag, you took the chance of slowly sneaking up behind him to give a surprise hug. The two men playing pool had paused their game to watch you, amused from the sight of seeing you crouch up behind their friend.

“Gotcha!” You yelled as you wrapped your arms around Egon’s torso and chest, placing your chin on his shoulder. Unexpectedly, he was completely frozen, unlike how he would usually turn around to return the hug. Your expression quickly morphed into one of confusion as the seconds passed and he stayed completely still.

“Anyway, Elon, I want you to meet-” You whip your head to the left to see Egon standing next to Ray, both the men having mildly concerned looks on their faces.

“...(Y/N)?” The man you were hugging spoke, his voice only slightly different from Egon’s but you could tell it wasn’t your boyfriend. Hastily taking your arms off him, you spew out apology after apology, face fully red.

“I’m so sorry! God I- I should’ve known the second you didn’t hug me back I-”

Elon waved his hand with a laugh, the other guys in the room except Egon cracking up as well. “No matter, no matter, at least I know my little brother is well loved,” Elon took the liberty of pulling you in for a hug this time, and just like Egon he was surprisingly good at giving them.

Egon’s cheeks turn a light pink color from his brother’s statement as he pulls you in for a hug and forehead kiss. Elon had headed over to the billiard table to greet the two men who ended their pool game. The mood in the room turned joyous as all the guys had not seen Elon in a while, making this occasion a real treat.

“Sorry, Eggs, he really does look a lot like you,” you whispered. He smiles before putting his lips on yours, causing your face to go red once again. Getting kissed by Egon certainly did not get old no matter how many times it happens.

“It’s alright, (Y/N), I missed you too.”

Ray called out, “Hey, lovebirds! Get over here before we finish all the pizza.”

You pull away from Egon and adjust his tie, taking his hand and walking over to the others to get a fresh slice of pizza.

#RARE ELON SPENGLER TWIN SIGHTING!!#i love my earth day special boy he's so funny to me #so far this is the only fic i've ever posted anywhere #making it my mission to actually post more of my writing in 2024 or by the end of the year!!#to hell with being shy i need to share my love of x reader fics and my blorbos #egon spengler x reader #ghostbusters x reader #egon spengler #elon spengler #ghostbusters reader insert #ghostbusters #egon spengler imagines #x reader #gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n

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that-fangirl-1106 · 4 months

Note

Hi, love it’s Tab!

I’m sending in my request now! If you write for Gaz would you write a fluffy a bit angsty piece for him coming home injured and exhausted from a mission and reader takes care of him? My boy needs some fluff 🥰

Thank you! I <3 you!

-Waiting-so-long

Gaz One Shot

Thank you so much @waiting-so-long for this request! I was super nervous to write this one but I’m so happy to write something for our underrated king! As always, requests are open and feedback is appreciated!

Warning: mentions of injury, probably so many medical inaccuracies I’m sorry, slight angst

Fem! reader

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It was days like this that made you miss him the most. When the snow is piled high outside and everything is silent — not even the sound of children playing outside or people going to and from town.

It’s empty.

And you miss him.

You miss his warmth, the way he’d bundle you up in blankets and hold you on the couch, the way he’d whisper a joke and chuckle against your skin, the way he’d keep you in bed as long as he could.

“Where you off to, love? It’s freezin out. C’mon, you know the best way to stay warm is body heat, right?”

You pictured him here with you, you mind starting to wander as you imagined him in the kitchen with those grey sweatpants he knew you loved. He’d have them hanging low on his hips, his v-line starting to show. He’d be putting on a show for you, trying to rile you up, but insisting he has no idea what you’re on about when you playfully scold him for teasing you.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts by a key turning the lock on your front door; the key that only one other person in the world has.

Before the door is even fully open you’re up from the couch and rushing to greet him at the door. When you see him the wind is knocked out of you; maybe it’s the cold air trying to fight it’s way in your home, or maybe it’s the black eye and busted lip he’s sporting.

“Kyle,” you whisper, and he can hear the worry dripping from your voice. You reach up and gently cup his face in your hands, needing to confirm that he’s actually here. He made it back home to you.

“Hey, lovie,” he grins at you, feeling warmth spread across his chest as he takes in the sight of you. You look cozy and warm, soft and gentle, everything he hasn’t had over the past few weeks being on a mission. He ignores the pounding in his head and the aches in his bones and leans down to give you a soft peck on your lips.

“You miss me?” You can hear the smirk on his lips as he speaks, but you don’t miss the way his hand hasn’t left his lower ribcage. Or the way he isn’t standing completely upright, as his shoulders curve slightly downward.

“Of course I did, baby.” Your eyes scan his face, looking for any other signs of injury. “Are you okay? What happened?” You move your thumb towards the cut on his lip, but he gently grabs your hand to stop you.

“I’m fine, love, I promise. Just a little banged up. Nothin’ new.” He brings your hand to his lips and presses a soft kiss to it.

He shuffles himself inside and gently kicks the door shut. As he moves to take off his coat he lets out a soft groan and his hand immediately goes back to it’s place on his lower ribcage.

“Kyle, honey, let me help,” you say softly as you gently remove his jacket. Him being cut up and sore after a mission was routine at this point but this seemed different.

Normally when he came home he had that light in his eyes. He’d pick you up and hug you tighter than ever; but this time you don’t know if he’d even be able to pick you up. You felt anxiety settle deep in your stomach - something was wrong.

You place his jacket on the rack next to the door and the moment he hits the couch a long exhale leaves his lips. He takes a minute to sit with his eyes closed, his face scrunched up in pain while he thinks you’re not looking. He never wants you to see him like this. He never tells you the details of missions because he doesn’t want you to know just how dangerous his job actually is. He never wants his girl to worry more than she has to.

You sit down on the couch next to him and gently tap his shoulder, signaling him to lean back. He’s been dreading this part. It’s sort of a ritual you two have: you look him over for any bruises or scrapes and give them soft kisses. Sometimes he’ll even tell you the story of how he got them. This also normally leads to some really good sex.

But tonight he wants to skip this part. He doesn’t want you to see.

You slowly lift ups his shirt and let out a soft gasp when you see the deep purple and blue bruises that cover the right side of his ribcage.

“Just a little banged up? Kyle, this looks awful! What happened? How did-“

“Love, really, it’s nothing, I promise.”

You take in the sight of him and are struck with a reality that is always looming over your head no matter how much you try to will it away: you could lose him on any mission. He could leave and one day it would be Price returning home to you with a somber look and Kyle’s dog tags in his hand.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. He didn’t…I did everything I could…”

You fell silent as you gently stroked his skin. The sound of Kyle speaking faintly registered in your brain with things like “three broken ribs” “said I could heal at home” and “not that bad, really” popping into focus every now and then. You feel the hot tears burning in your eyes and you try to will them away. You’re supposed to be comforting him. Not the other way around.

“Hey,” his tender voice called out as he cupped your face in his hand, wiping your tears away with his thumb. His hand felt like a small heater against your cheek and you tightly grasped it, grounding yourself in his touch.

“I made it back, darling. You know I always will, right?”

His eyes shone with the small smile on his face. He was always trying to charm you; to make you laugh and distract you from how bad a situation might actually be.

Your voice shook as you responded.

“But what if you don’t? What if one day you leave me and I can’t…I haven’t told you I love you enough and we have lived enough or done enough or-“

“Shh, lovie, breathe. You’re gonna make yourself sick worrying like that.”

He props himself up on his elbow in an effort to get closer to you and you can see how he bites back the urge to wince at the pain in his ribs.

“You’re the thing that keeps me goin, love. You’re my reason to keep fighting. As long as I can, I’m gonna fight like hell to get back to you. I promise you that. As long as you’re here waiting for me, then I’ll come back for you.”

He was the most honest man you’d ever met and you loved him so much it make your chest ache. You didn’t care of you’d resent yourself later on, wishing you had picked someone who hadn’t given their life for his team on a mission, you wanted to be with him - now and forever.

“I’ll always wait, Kyle.”

#cod #cod mw3 #cod mw2 #gaz cod #gaz x reader #gaz x you #gaz x y/n #kyle garrick #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick x reader #kyle garrick x y/n #cod imagine #cod x reader #cod fluff #cod angst #gaz fluff #gaz angst

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greyskyflowers · 5 months

Text

I'm always on a Visored/Ichigo kick but it's been especially bad lately. Sooo have some little hollow instinct AU?? plot bunnies that won't get bigger than this but still wanted to hop around.

Is it trauma, power dynamics, or hollow instincts? The world may never know.

The world does actually know and it's all three.

⚠️ Some strange relationship and/or combination of Visored/Ichigo/Kisuke because that's my jam and I'm partying alone. ⚠️

💀💀💀💀

Ichigo doesn't know what he looks like when he's like this. No one else knows either, which is a good thing because people have destroyed and conquered worlds for less.

Long limbs sprawled, belly down and back exposed. There's a blanket drapped over his hips more for the comforting weight than any warmth. His tan skin glows in the low lighting and his hair looks like soft embers.

He smells like them. He looks like theirs. He's sleeping in their space. It hits a lot of things they knew would appeal to them but not to this extent.

He's taken their advice to heart, about getting familiar with the new hollow instincts and just do what feels right. At least until he's able to separate the things that are more him and more hollow.

It's driving them nuts. He's shameless and he doesn't even know it.

He presses his face against their faces and throats, the bridge of his nose pressing against the underside of their jaws and nuzzling real quick before darting off. The scent of him clinging to them and the submissive gesture, ducking to press under their jaw, is addicting.

It's a intimate greeting, one they don't even really give to each other but Ichigo uses it multiple times a day. A happy, warm and loving gesture that says hihelloimhereandyourehereandimveryhappy each time he does it. They kind of dread him figuring out how personal it is because he'll stop.

He makes himself small when he's anxious or scared, when he lets himself act his age for once. He holds himself well, they'll give him that. It's hard to tell unless he wants you to know but there are signs they pick up on, along with Kisuke's hints.

It's easier to be vulnerable at night, when it's dark and it doesn't seem so bad to seek out warmth and comfort.

They're particular about sleeping arrangements. They don't like others in the same area as them while they sleep. They puppy pile, as Mashiro happily calls it, not able to fully relax unless they're tangled up with at least 3 other people. The only people in the world they trust completely, with every part of their souls, and Kisuke.

And apparently Ichigo because he slips right in, and not only does he sneak in without kicking off their instincts but gets up against their throats without so much as a twitch from them. He stays above the blankets and avoids the mess of limbs, which is both smart and makes them frown. Desperate for comfort but still holding himself back, he probably would have tried to leave without them noticing if they hadn't woken up

The jackrabbit heartbeat and shaky breathing is what actually wakes them up.

There's a brief moment where everyone kind of freezes as they process what's happening, and then wait to see which one of them will kick him out, which of them will crack first at having a stranger in their space.

But it doesn't happen.

Everything stays silent and still except for the shaky breathing still coming from Ichigo, they swear they can hear feel his heart pounding, and a little keening noise that's so faint they miss it at first. It zips up their spines as soon as they notice, it's like a straight shot of adrenaline and a protective awareness surges in their chests.

They know there's no actual threat, they would have felt it, and they know that the kid just had a nightmare or was thinking too hard and worked himself up. But it doesn't seem like their instincts understand that.

They've never made that sound, not a single one of them ever, and they've made some weird noises. It's a terrible sad, lonely, scared noise and they don't ever want to hear it again.

This all happens in the span of a few minutes, enough for Ichigo to start calming down a little. He's not as tense and his breathing has gotten slower. Not enough to indicate he's asleep yet but he's on his way.

They all squish in closer and Ichigo falls right asleep, his cold nose and wet cheeks pressed into warm skin.

Hollows do not purr like cats, at least in their experience, but they swear to god they all woke up to purring at different times during the night.

💀💀💀💀

Ichigo starts sitting between their legs, most often when he's injured. Not kneeling, although that's a pretty picture, just sitting down so he's bracketed on both sides by their legs, back to them. Safe.

Lisa and Mashiro play with his hair, Lisa mindlessly as she flips through her magazine and Mashiro makes tiny braids before taking them out and starting over.

Kensei doesn't do much, usually puts his elbows on his knees so he's curved protectively over Ichigo. Occasionally rubbing his knuckles on Ichigo's jaw and petting at his throat.

Shinji tries to always keep a hand on him, tangled in his hair, resting on the side of his throat, or brushing against his cheek.

Ichigo doesn't do it often or around other people and they all try to respect that. He has to be Ichigo, strong, stubborn, impossible, and the one people look to.

💀💀💀💀

The thing people forget is that while wounds heal, the body and soul remember.

It can be a lot of strain, going in and out of his human body so frequently, especially when both soul and body are so familiar with stress, bruises and breaks.

Ichigo may heal quicker than most with his hollow and access to good healers but the echoes linger longer than most others. Especially when injuries are made with intention. Wounds from hollows hurt of course, but there's usually not a lot of thought behind it. So the wounds are more random, varying depths and severity.

Wounds by people shinigami, bounts, quincy, etc are more precise. They know where to aim to make it devastating, agonizing, and life changing.

Ichigo has fought a lot of people and it shows.

He bares his burdens and more in front of people like he's fine. He smiles and laughs, meets all the demands for fights with his own wild grin, moves like he's never had a injury in his life and people don't question it.

There's an area of his chest, and his back, that burn. A few spots of a constant and deep heat that make breathing feel hard.

His shoulders itch and ache, the kind that feels like it's down under the muscle. Nothing helps and lifting his arms is difficult.

A long, dragging catch following the lines of his lower ribcage. Breathing too deeply makes it burn and crackle in sharp pain, short and shallow breaths aren't satisfying but it keeps the pain manageable.

Headaches from countless concussions, a sore jaw from all the times it's been broke, fingers and toes that don't feel right anymore and ache terribly in the cold.

It's not all the time, just occasionally. Things like going back and forth too many times from his body, extreme temperatures, new wounds over the old, etc all cause flare ups.

He's too young to have so many aches.

They're protective over those spots. They can't and won't interfere with his fights unless it's critical but they keep an eye on wounds in those areas. They frown and scare off people when Ichigo starts to flinch from heavy arms being thrown around his shoulders or careless jabs in his side.

Sometimes their old wounds flare up and Ichigo scowls and bares teeth at everyone until the aches goes away.

#bleach #visored #ichigo kurosaki #ichigo x visored #visoreds #kisuke urahara #visored x ichigo x kisuke #uraichi #visored x ichigo #ichigo x everyone tbh #hollow instict au??#going to drag all of you into poly andor qp visored hell with me #i like my characters feral and my relationship dynamics questionable #reaping souls with greyskyflowers

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stayandot8 · 7 months

Text

Nightlyfe

Thanks for the ask 😘

Genre: Fluff, provocative without being 18+

Relationship type: meeting for the first time

Important Contents: It's a club setting so alcohol, drinking, suggestive (ass-grabbing, intense kissing)

WC: 2.8k

masterlist

Another one bites the dust.

One more man down, proving he wasn’t able to keep up with me. I wasn’t ‘high-maintenance’ per say, I just knew what I deserved and I wouldn’t put up with anything less than that. No man had come close. Well, maybe one. But he was long gone, reserved to that area of my mind that was reserved for those thoughts of him. It had been a year now, and while the pain had dulled, it was still there. The only one that could have been the one had I realized what I had sooner. But that was a conversation for another day.

The one I had just broken up with was a goner from the start. Having issues with the way I would dress for a night out was the final straw for me; the constant back and forth of why do you feel the need to wear that out and my response of because I want to never being enough for him to just let it go. I was done with him.

The door finally closed behind him. I hoped it hit him on the way out. I was finishing getting ready, waiting for the steady stream of texts from my friends asking where I was. Ever the late arrival, I was used to it by now.

One last look in the mirror, my miniscule top and shorts hanging just right and face sporting just the right amount of glitter, I grabbed my bag and headed down the stairs of my apartment building, my veins buzzing with the excitement of being single again and on the prowl. My sneaker-clad feet carried me along the streets of downtown straight to the agreed upon starting spot; our favorite Rave club, Nightlyfe.

The neon sign shone brightly, a bright pink led beacon for all the lost souls wanting to find a home for the night. A place to forget the troubles that ail you, get lost in the sea of strangers, and forget the world exists. Lucky for me, it was a clear night and the breeze of the late summer fueled my desire to let it all go.

The place was packed, bodies and the smell of sweat and other substances everywhere. Glow sticks were hung all along the walls for people to take and sport throughout the night as needed to encourage the rave feel. Blocks of lights made up the dancefloor, which was directly in front of the bar. UV lights were hung everywhere there wasn’t a glow stick pile. People were dancing their troubles away, including a pack of guys, standing around in their own circle and completely oblivious to the world around them. Each of them was wearing a large glow stick necklace around their necks, seemingly to identify each other in the darkness. They seemed to be having a good time or well on their way to one since another was approaching them with a tray of shots. They all took one in one go and put the small glasses back on the tray. One of them was fake-wretching and laughing along with his buddies.

He was cute. Had dark hair and was wearing all black; black jeans with a black t-shirt and boots with a black jean jacket to top it off. He looked out of place from his group, like he didn’t know where he was going when they first set out. He was the only one not in shorts and in one solid color. Everyone else from his circle was in bright colors that ranged the entire rainbow.

From what I could see in the dim lighting, his laughter seemed contagious to his group. Once he started laughing, everyone else did too, whether at him or with him, I couldn’t tell. But I knew his friends were just as attractive as he was.

Once I finally pulled my eyes away from him, I scanned the place for my friends’ usual hangout spot at the bar. I didn’t have to look long since they were yelling at me and waving me over wildly. Their own brightly colored outfits were scandalous to anyone outside this facility but here, it was the norm. Tiny shorts that if you moved the wrong way too fast, you would be exposing a lot more than just a peek. And the tops… Well, let’s just say there was little left to the imagination. But we liked it that way. It gave us a confidence nothing else really could.

My friends had ordered a round of something colorful and sweet and shoved it in my face before I could sit all the way down. Being the champ I was, I downed it without knowing what it was. This was the typical behavior with us.

“Sooo? What happened this time? Was he bad in bed? Did he try to take your TV like the last one?” I rolled my eyes.

“Tried to tell me what to wear. Told me I looked like a slut and he would never be with a girl who dressed like that. So I told him not to be and kicked him out.” They all nodded as I told them what had occurred mere minutes before arrival.

“Good riddance, I say.” Another one said. “He was holding you back anyways.”

I thought about it, all the things I had been through since getting with him. I stayed inside with him, never going anywhere because he was too lazy to get ready to go anywhere. He would lay around my apartment, eating my food and wasting my electricity and never offer to pay for anything. I was lucky if he paid for dinner.

“Come to think of it. He wasn’t good for much anyways. He never paid for anything, he never…” I was derailed from my complaints when one of those guys from the dance floor came into view. He was leaning on the bar in between stools and smiling at the bartender, chatting him up and pointing to the different bottles. When the bartender turned to make his drinks, he cast his eyes down the bar, towards me. We locked eyes and I felt it; a rush of…something. It whispered in my ear and twisted my insides. It felt like nerves, but not quite. Go get him.

I hopped off my stool, my friends watching me while whispering to each other ‘there she goes again’ and picking up their drinks to enjoy the show. The guy hadn’t broken eye contact with me, watching me hop off my stool and slowly letting a grin spread. He shifted towards me, facing me head on. He was the one I spotted earlier, dressed in all black and sticking out like he didn’t belong. But his ease with the people around him, the only way to tell that he was out of his element was his outfit. But all he needed to do was get a cropped tank and some shorts and he’d be right at home. I could see it on him now…

“Hey.” Such an easy word for him, complimented with the softness of his smile toward me. I couldn’t help but smile back. It felt like a crime not to. I nodded back to him, unsure but not uneasy.

“Sir? Can I get a round of lemon drops for me and my friends down there?” I shouted over the thumping coming from the speakers and pointed down to where they all were chatting, paying no attention to me.

“Did you want to open a tab or close out with this?” He asked, grabbing his shaker.

“Put it on our tab, Charlie.” The guy in black said to the bartender. His Australian accent caught me off guard.

“Oh, that’s okay. It’s not necessary.” I tried to retort but he waved me off, like it was nothing.

“It’s fine, I promise. I have a feeling it’ll come back to me.” I eyed him as ‘Charlie’ made our shots, the sound of the ice rattling around in the metal shaker pulling my attention from him for just a moment. And in that moment, he hopped off the bar stool to draw towards me and turned to the dance floor to watch. I noticed him out of the corner of my eye and swiveled to speak.

“First time here?” I asked over the music. He grinned again.

“Is it that obvious?” His eyes sparkled when he smiled. I felt the corners of my lips turn upwards involuntarily.

“Yeah, your outfit gives you away.”

“No one told me I would be coming to this kind of place.”

“Like walking into a box of highlighters, right?” He laughed out loud.

“I said the same thing to my friend over there.” He pointed to his small group of friends at a table on the other side of the dance floor. “This would have been the perfect place to wear my new wardrobe.”

“New wardrobe?”

“Yeah, my friends tease me all the time that I wear too much black. They want me to wear more colors and this would’ve been the perfect place to try it out.”

“So you usually wear all black?” I glanced over him one more time and noticed the small details I didn’t see before. His chain around his neck was silver, matching the one ring he wore on his pointer finger. He wore earrings to match his jacket, a sort of gunmetal gray, but they were small enough to not overpower his sharp features. For wearing all one color, it suited him well, save for his happy-go lucky charm. It was a stark contrast, but it somehow made him all the more alluring. Like you couldn’t help but wonder what made him, him.

“I do, when I’m not out in public for work or when I’m forced to wear something else. It’s comfortable and it always goes with everything. You could say I spend a lot of time on other things so the brain power it takes is minimal. It’s…simpler, I guess.” He returned the favor, eyeing my shorts and low-cut top. His quick glance grew slower as he went back up from my feet to my eyes again. Charlie slid a tray loaded with shots towards me across the bar and nodded.

“Enjoy your night.” The guy in black passed his card to Charlie, flashed me another smile and a wink, and hopped off his barstool. He raised his drink to me in cheers, and walked back over to his table. The music came back into my ears, being zoned in on the mysterious drink-buyer for the last several seconds. It was like coming back out from underwater, everything now coming back into view around me.

I stood where he left me as my eyes followed him all the way back to his table. This must be how everyone felt when they met him; captivated and desperate to know more. I stared down at the tray the bartender slid my way and wondered what might happen if I went through with my most recent impulsive thought. If things started getting annoying, I told myself if he was still here, I would

Things did. By the time me and my friends were sloshed enough to drag ourselves out to the dance floor, it was the most packed it had been since I arrived. Sweaty bodies and flailing arms were everywhere we turned, the world was starting to spin the more I danced combined with the shots that were being shoved down my throat by my own hands. It was like they had a mind of their own. When my brain was saying no more, you’ll be so hungover tomorrow, my hands would say Good! Do more! I would be paying for this tomorrow.

My shoes were doing an excellent job of keeping me upright -until they weren’t.

It was a perfect storm of people bumping into me and not caring who they writhed against that knocked me off balance. It was like falling in slow motion straight to the floor. Or, what I thought was the floor. Instead, it was the back of-

“Aussie!” I exclaimed in my haze. His smile slowly grew when he heard the nickname.

“Hey Lemon Drop! You okay there?” I giggled, stumbling into his now-open arms. His cologne immediately drew into my nose, filling my nonsensical brain with him. It made the music fade out again, zeroing in on him and him alone.

“You smell…nice…” I whispered, not meaning to say it aloud. Stupid brain.

“Thank you, I guess.” He was laughing at me now, but not cruelly. Some small, slightly more sober part of my mind was offended. “Here, let’s get you somewhere you can sit down.” He shouldered me and walked me off the dance floor, where it suddenly became easier to breathe. The air wasn’t as stuffy, and it made it easier to focus on the intoxicating smell coming from this man. I recognized the table after a moment as the one he shared with his friends all night. He tried to motion me to sit at the booth in the corner, but I shook my head, the bolder and drunker side taking over my words.

“I’m not sitting alone.” I stared at his pretty face, those lips begging to be… bitten.

“You won’t be alone, I’ll sit right here.” he pointed to a chair beside the booth. I shook my head again, standing my ground.

“If you sit first,” I pointed to where he tried to move me, “I’ll sit on your lap. That’s the only way I’ll sit.” His eyebrows shot up so fast, I thought they might fall off. I giggled some more at his surprise, but what he said and did next shut me right up.

“Okay, Lemon Drop. Have it your way.” He beamed as he sat and pulled me by the hips down to his level. Fine. After a second, I shifted so that my legs hung off the side and I was sitting sideways and facing him. I placed his arms around my waist and he clung tight as I wrapped mine around his neck and shoulders. A thought suddenly crossed my mind and I looked at him with my best attempt at a serious face.

“Don’t let me fall.” He laughed at the sudden sincerity in my features and he stared at each of them; my nose first, moving to my lips that I had been biting, then back up to my eyes.

“I won’t.” And his grip had gotten tighter. So tight that we were now nose to nose, our breathing very close. There was no doubt that he could practically taste the liquor on my breath, but I was too intoxicated by him to care. His eyes flickered back down to my lips and his tongue quickly wet his own. I wanted to do that for him. That innermost need to be drenched in him took over, but not before the slightly sober side took over, hanging on by threads.

“Are you drunk…at all?” I whispered to his lips.

“I’d be lying if I said no, but I don’t really drink so it doesn’t take much.” He said it was equally quiet. “I shouldn’t drive but I know where I am and what I’m doing. How drunk are you?”

“Drunk enough to not care about what I’m about to say, but not so drunk that I can and will immediately stop if you say so.” He drew impossibly closer. “You’re single, yes?”

“Painfully so. I’m assuming you are too.” I nodded and he forced me to look at him, into his eyes so he could see mine clearly. “What are you about to say?”

“That if you don’t do what you’re thinking about doing right this second, I’ll-” His mouth cut me off right as I ran out of words. Everything was completely drowned out now; the music, any worry about being seen, concern for my friends and where they might be. All I could focus on was him. His lips tasted like nothing I had ever had before, soft and passionate with just the right amount of desperation for my drunken state to deem this the best moment of the night. Of the past week. Of the past month.

His hands gripped my hips tight and shifted me once again to straddle him, never breaking contact with my lips. He moaned as he reached for my ass and gripped it. Hard, making me moan in response. He broke our kiss to grumble against my lips, “I’m dying to get out of here.” His voice had dropped significantly, making my desire burn even more so.

“I live four blocks down the street.” I replied. He grinned, still in a lustful haze. I was sure I looked the same.

“Let’s go.” He smacked my ass to get me temporarily off of him, but emitting a groan instead.

“I’m Chris, by the way.”

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storiesofsvu · 1 year

Text

A Dangerous Game Ch 22

Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, alcohol, smut. Okay so i did say we were gonna wrap at 25 chapters but I'm smooshing things together cause I didn't have enough meat to fill out chapters and am getting lazy. SO! ONE more chapter after this one. Hopefully soon, but also I work the next two days so we'll see how that works out LOL. Plenty of other stuff in the wip pile otherwise and some bingo squares actually started on so you have content to look forward to, promise.

Both you and Emily were incredibly thankful when there was no last minute new case on Friday, leaving the two of you (and the rest of the team) free to head home right at five. You had enough time to wind down from work, shower and get ready before Emily was knocking at your door. She let out a quiet swear when you pulled open the door and you giggled, kissing her cheek gently before setting the alarm and locking the door. You were in a dusty pink casual yet flirty dress, the neckline enough to tease Emily while still being modest, the hem of the skirt flowing across your mid thigh.

“You know I could’ve met you there.” You commented as you slid into the car, “less back tracking for you to do.”

“Yeah, but I figured I wanted to do this the right way.” She smiled softly at you, her hand naturally finding home on your thigh as she started the car, backing out of your driveway. “You look absolutely gorgeous by the way.”

“Thanks.” Your cheeks flushed, glancing over to her with a warm smile, “so do you.”

Emily hadn’t planned much, not wanting to go too crazy or come off overbearing, telling you just to dress nice but casual was fine. She’d made dinner reservations at Iron Gate Restaurant, a cute little place that was a prime spot for date nights that wasn’t too fancy but just fancy enough. It was warm enough outside that the two of you ended up at a corner table on their back patio, fairy lights strewn overtop of the gardens and candles on the tables to embrace the ambiance.

You started with a round of cocktails while you looked over the menu, the waiter offering wine suggestions when you placed your food orders. The table started with focaccia, cremini mushroom arancini and a citrus salad while the two of you gossiped about work that week, laughing over the stories that Emily had missed out on while trapped in her office.

“I can’t believe you told Morgan about the jet.” She laughed, taking another sip of her drink and you joined in on her laughter.

“Listen, I was hungover as fuck, I needed that couch.”

“Well now he’s insistent on bunking with you on trips to keep us apart.”

“Okay.” You shrugged with a grin, “never stopped us before. He can give us an hour for privacy or he can suffer. Or I’ll bribe Savannah. If he’s gonna cockblock us, I’ll cockblock him right back.”

“You’re cruel.” She chuckled.

“No.” You insisted, “I give back the same energy I’m given.”

“Ah, the changing of a few crucial words and you get away with it.”

“It’s worked so far.” You replied with a teasing shrug and she laughed again, her free hand sneaking across the table top to grab yours before laying a kiss on the back of it, fingers remaining tangled when they hit the table once again.

Wine and dinner came out shortly after that, Emily teasing you for your choice of seafood despite your absolute hatred of crab. You scoffed, pointing out that they were completely different tastes and textures, and that this would be delicious. The playful argument was completely unneeded, but the way it brought a spark to Emily’s eye when she looked at you was all the excuse you needed to dig into her when she ended up liking your choice of dinner better than her own.

You opted to take one of each desserts to go and Emily was obviously insistent on taking care of the cheque. You attempted to open your mouth to object and the look she shot you was enough alone to know she definitely wasn’t going to give in, no matter what you said. You thanked her, kissing the back of her hand before the two of you were gathering your things, making your way out of the restaurant hand in hand. She faltered in her step as you reached the back of the car, turning back to you with a smile on her face and you leant in, kissing her gently, lips lingering against hers a little longer than normal for being in public.

“Thank you for dinner.” You murmured, “it was really nice.”

“It was.” She smiled, pecking you lightly, “should do it again next week.”

“It’s a date.”

“Now…. Am I taking you back across the river?” She raised a brow at you and you laughed.

“We got dessert to go. What did you think? I was just gonna run off with it? Besides, Sergio’ll throw a fit if I don’t come say hi.”

She laughed, rolling her eyes about Sergio, considering you were completely correct and kissed your cheek softly before nudging you in the direction of the passenger side door.

The moment the elevator doors slid shut Emily had you against the wall in a bruising kiss, lips moving with fire against your own. Your arms quickly looped around her shoulders, fingers threading through her hair, your body relaxing into hers. A thigh found its way between your legs, pinning you to the wall and you let out a whine into the kiss when her hands grasped at your hips, grinding you down against her.

“That’s it angel…” she murmured, her breath hot on your skin as she kissed across your jaw, her muscle flexing under you and your head dropped back against the wall, “feel good?”

“Yes daddy…”

The elevator pinged and you barely had enough time to tear away from each other before the doors slid open and you fumbled your way down the short hallway to Emily’s apartment. Once the door was locked behind you Emily’s hands were on you again, shoes were kicked off and her lips found yours, tongue daring to slide into you mouth and you bit back a moan. Your hands slipped under her shirt, whimpering when she broke the kiss to pull the offending fabric over her head before kissing you again, a happy sigh escaping you that she swallowed down. You quickly got rid of her bra, tossing it to the floor and began squeezing at her chest, lips curving up into a grin at the way she practically melted into your touch. Emily’s hands wound around you to find the zipper of your dress, letting the clothing fall to the floor and she pulled back from the kiss, letting out a low swear when she saw the set you had on underneath.

“Christ princess….”

“Figured I should dress up for you.” You shrugged with a playful grin and she chuckled, her eyes darkening as they dragged up your body.

“You always look so pretty for me.” Her hand reached out, brushing a piece of loose hair behind your ear, “but this is… wow…”

“Yeah?” Grinning, your fingers curled into her belt loops, tugging her closer to you so you could kiss her, “I have a feeling it’d look even better on your bedroom floor.”

“Can’t argue with you there.” She smirked, hands ghosting up your sides to grope at your chest through the lace, pinching at your nipples and you sucked in a breath, your back arching towards the touch. Your hips ground against her and you gasped, a small laugh leaving your lips.

“Why am I not surprised you’re already strapped?”

“Didn’t want to waste any time.” She murmured back, her lips beginning to trail down your neck as her hands made quick work of your bra so you could let it fall from your body. Her hands pinched at your nipples as she bit into the crook of your neck, nudging you back onto the bed. “Good girl.”

She undid her pants, kicking them off, cock springing out before she leant over you, fingers in the waistband of your lace panties and she pulled them down your legs. Her hands smoothed back up them, spreading you open for her and her tongue darted out to wet her lips. The moment her mouth lapped at you, your head fell back into the pillows, a happy moan leaving your lips. One of her hands slid up your hip and your own quickly found it, fingers interlacing as she continued to eat you out. Her nose brushed against your clit and you gasped, your hips rocking up to the sensation as your free hand tangled into her hair, holding her gently to you.

Emily’s tongue darted out, pulling your juices into her mouth, groaning over the taste she adored so much, her free hand pressed down your thigh, spreading you even further open for her, just the way she liked. Her mouth sucked at you, moaning against your pussy, the vibrations shaking through you deep into your core. She shifted up, latching around your clit, letting her tongue trace patterns across it while two fingers slipped into your pussy. Her eyes flicked up so she could watch the way your body thrived against the bed, whimpers and whines escaping your lips while her fingers pumped and curled within you. Your pussy was soaked, fluttering around her with each brush of her fingers.

“Fuck… oh god daddy… feels so…so… fuckin good.”

She sucked harder on your clit, tongue pressing down heavily on it while her fingers curled right against the spongey spot inside of you and you cried out, coming undone, thighs shaking around her.

“Good girl.” She praised, kissing just above your clit before pulling her fingers from you. Before she could even blink, your hand wrapped around her wrist and you were sitting up, pulling her slicked fingers into your mouth, sucking them clean of your juices.

“Please fuck me daddy.” You mewled, nearly pouting as you did so and she swore again, knowing that you were likely going to be the death of her.

“Lie back princess.” She urged after stealing another kiss, watching the way your tits bounced when you did as she asked, spreading your legs even wider for her.

She ran the tip of her cock through your folds, smearing it with your juices and your eyes fluttered shut, breath catching in your throat. She lined the toy up, sinking into you inch by inch until she was completely buried within you and you let out a low moan when she circled her hips. She leant over you and your hands instantly wrapped around her, fingers digging into her skin as she began to move her hips. Her mouth wrapped around a nipple, sucking it into her mouth, teeth scraping against the sensitive skin as she set a steady rhythm. Each thrust her cock seemed to hit every inch of your pussy that you needed and you let out a whine, one of your legs wrapping around her to pull her even tighter to you.

“Harder…” you moaned, “please.”

She bit down harder in the same moment that her hips heavily rocked into yours and you gasped, your hands digging deeper into her skin, pulling a moan from her. She braced one of her hands on the bed, fucking deeper and harder with each thrust of her hips, your whimpers and whines getting louder and longer with each push of her cock. Your hips began to rock up to meet hers eagerly, begging for more,

“God… fuck…oh fuck!”

Emily’s teeth sunk into the curve of your breast, her tongue lapping out to soothe the burn but you both knew there’d be a mark for days to come. She licked across your collar bone, placing a kiss on it before making home in the crook of your neck, mouth licking, biting and sucking while she continued to fuck you.

You were a whimpering mess by now, your entire body on fire and completely consumed by her. Her cock filling you so precisely in only a way she could, her fingers pinching at your nipple, tracing patterns across your skin, your senses were overloaded with Emily, her perfume surging through you, bringing tingles to your skin with each inhale you took. She could feel the way your thighs were beginning to tremble around her, the shake in your breath and her lips formed a smirk on your skin.

“Gonna come for me angel? Come all over daddy’s cock?”

“S—so close.” You whimpered, gasping when her cock thrust heavily into you.

Emily’s hand vanished from your chest, sneaking down in between your bodies to find your clit, pinching it when she did so and your legs tightened around her, a loud moan leaving your lips. Her fingers began to rub in time with her thrusts, pressing harder and harder with each roll of her hips.

“That’s it princess… let go…” She husked into your ear, biting at the lobe and you cried out, shaking in her arms as your orgasm washed over you.

Your body shook, tensing around Emily, nails digging into her skin, burying yourself into the crook of her neck in an attempt to be fully absorbed by her, wanting to feel nothing but her in that moment of pleasure that continued to wash over you, wave after wave. You could hear her voice, but were completely unaware of what she was saying, everything was a haze until you could feel the drag of her cock in your pulsating pussy and let out a shuddering breath, letting go of her and collapsing down into the pillows with a sigh. She gazed down at you with a happy smile, her hips stilling against yours as her hand caressed at your cheek, thumb rubbing at your skin until she was certain you’d had enough of a chance to catch your breath. Leaning down she kissed you softly, lips moving with grace against yours and there was no place in the world either of you wanted to be in that moment. She slipped out of you, leaving the strap to be dealt with later and rolled onto her back, wrapping an arm around you in the warm embrace that you gladly accepted, curling around her body.

Your leg nestled between hers, head resting on her chest and your arm lazily strewn around her while you slowly came back down to earth. Emily’s hand came up to the back of your head, gently scratching at it, playing with your hair and she left a tender kiss on the top of your head. Everything felt right, felt peaceful, comfortable and despite the air cooling as the night wore on, a warmth was wrapped around the two of you that you knew wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon. The silence took over the room, only the sound of your breathing and happy little hums as you simply basked in the embrace of each other.

You let out a happy sigh, nuzzling into her body deeper, kissing at her bare skin and she hummed softly, kissing your head once again. A warmth bloomed throughout her as you nestled against her, pressing gentle kisses to her skin. Her eyes drifted down at the feeling of your finger tips on her skin and she caught the way they were softly tracing the pattern of the scar on her stomach, ghosting over the white lines and Derek’s words from the other day replayed through her head.

“Hey…” she whispered softly, gently squeezing at you.

“Hmm?” You replied without looking up.

“I wanna tell you something. Something that should help make sense of why I did things the way I did…”

“Okay..”

“Years ago…. I was the target for someone, someone who wanted to see me in pain before actually killing me. Meaning they were going after my team first and I decided to be dumb, I thought the only way to protect the people I cared about was to go take care of it myself, go straight to the source of the violence.” Your fingers stilled in their pattern, shifting off the scar as your head tilted up at her and she stalled in her words at the expression on your face.

“I know about Doyle.”

“What?” Her brow furrowed and you shrugged.

“It’s not every day an FBI agent comes back from the dead. Everybody knows about the legendary… or… reckless depending on you who ask, Agent Prentiss. I’d just never heard a first name or seen a picture. So yeah…” you nuzzled back into her chest, letting out a happy sigh at the feeling, “I know the Dewald thing kinda just brought you right back there and you didn’t want to repeat history, especially with me in your place.”

Silence overtook you, your hand curled around her waist this time, thumb rubbing across her soft skin as you waited for her to absorb your words. She kissed your head, her lips lingering on you before she spoke once again,

“Is that why you never asked about the scar?” She felt her brow furrow and you shrugged.

“I’ve been in law enforcement long enough to know not to ask about scars. Hell, even before I started this job. You never know if it’s gonna bring up some super painful memory or if it’s from something like falling off the swings as a kid.”

“Hmm…” She replied and you could feel the wariness flowing off her, so you shifted up onto your elbow to look up at her again.

“Emily…” your voice was soft and hearing her name on your lips like that made her heart nearly stop, the adoring gaze in your eyes completely melting her. “We’re good. Okay? You don’t need to be constantly apologizing or explaining yourself or buying gifts. Give it another month and we’ll be arguing over something trivial like whose turn it is to take out the trash.” Your smile brought a laugh to her lips, worry washing away as the sparkle in her eye returned while you leaned up to kiss her. “We’re more than good. Okay?”

“Okay.” She smiled brightly, letting out a happy sigh when you nestled back into her chest, “as long as you know that I’m in this for the long haul, that I want it to really be something and mean something.

“I do.” You murmured.

“So much so that I may have mentioned something to the director earlier today.” She winced at the way your body tensed against her.

“And… what would that have been?”

“I didn’t specify things, I just brought up that something was… blooming and I wanted to get in front of it professionally.”

You propped up on your elbow again and Emily frowned at the worry wavering in your eyes, “are they gonna transfer me?”

“No!” Her hand shot out, cradling your cheek, “no baby, no. I didn’t even mention you by name. We’ll have to go in and sign some paperwork on Monday, there will be some situations where you report to the section chief or director directly instead of me. Any evals or performance reviews will be done by them instead, and they’ll likely keep a closer eye on us in the field for a bit, but we can do this.”

“Good.” You smiled, leaning in to kiss her, “because I really like this job. And I also really like the idea of not having to sneak around or be worried about it all the time.”

“And we won’t have to.” She kissed you softly, lips curving up against yours as she did.

“When do we tell the team?” You asked and she sighed heavily.

“Let’s give it a bit? If that’s okay with you?”

“Please, Morgan and Garcia are already having field days with it, let them get the major teases out before everyone’s in on it.”

“Knowing Garcia that’ll only take the rest of the week.” Emily chuckled and you laughed.

“Well then let’s make the week worth it.” You murmured as you leant in, your lips brushing her skin as you caged her into the bed and she let out a chuckle, eagerly accepting the kiss.

______________________

@mickey-gomez @momlifebehard @melindawarnersgf @itisdoctortoyousir @emilyprentiss4life @somethingimaginative17 @temilyrights @alexxavicry @daddy-heather-dunbar @aliensaurusrex @rustyzebra @ilovemycrayons @thegrantwater @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @m00nkn1ghts @supercriminalbean @daffodil-heart @msvenablesbitch @its-soph-xx @going-gray @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @hopelesslyfallenninlove @peanutbutterprincess @kdaghay @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @awolfcsworld @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @s1ut4nat @midnight-sapphic @scorpsik @prentiss-theorem @unsubologyy @strongsassysexysloane @svushots @overtrred28 @happenstnces @sapphicprentiss @heidss @geekyandgay98 @pagetboobstarcomments s @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @aws-l

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #criminal minds #a dangerous game #emily prentiss series #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic

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onestepbackwards · 2 years

Text

What’s All the Buzz About?

@r0-boat‘s BeeGearStation AU has had me in a vice grip for w e e k s. I decided to take a shot at writing for the AU myself (❁´◡`❁) It’s heavily inspired by their AU, so please check them out! R0′s writing and ideas are so good! The design for Bee Hybrid Emmet was also heavily inspired by @antidotesprout designs for them. Please check them out as well! Their art is amazing! I hope you enjoy the start of this new series, and have a happy Halloween! Summary: After ending up stuck and injured in the old abandoned Nimbasa City subway tunnels, you don’t have much hope in escaping. Despite the odds, you try to push onward anyway, only to meet someone verrry interesting. CW: Description of leg injury (though not too graphic), broken leg, anxiety attack, slight dark thoughts, cave in, minor claustrophobia, (It all gets better at the end, I promise), Beehybrid!Emmet, King Bee Emmet, Implied King Bee Hybrid Ingo. Word Count: 4138 words! >Next: Link -----

Today was just not your day Well, that wasn’t entirely true. It really just hasn’t been your week, let alone year. But this… This certainly topped everything that has happened to you yet. “Of course. Of all things to happen. Of all things!” You grumbled to yourself as you pulled your leg out from a pile of collapsed rubble. You hissed in pain, but managed to pull your leg free. Scooting away from the fallen debris, you shone your flashlight to get a better look at your leg, and winced at what you saw. “Well… that isn’t good.” You hissed through grit teeth. Your leg was covered in bruises, and was certainly swelling a bit in a few places. You would be surprised if it wasn’t broken. No doubt a cave in partially falling on your leg like this caused a break of some sort, even if it looked okay(ish) now.

Most of the skin was intact, thankfully. Just a few scrapes on top of some fresh bruises. You at least wouldn’t have to worry about bleeding out all alone in a dark cave. Silently, you thanked any gods out there listening for your higher pain tolerance, and the adrenaline running through your veins. You sighed, feeling overwhelmed, and fought back hot tears that threatened to fall. You knew going into the abandoned train tunnels would be a bad idea. Why did you let them convince you? You blew a tuft of hair out from in front of your face. Right. To keep your boss placated. Look how wonderful that turned out. Bastard. You took a moment to get your bearings. Panic was threatening to seep through your chest. “Calm down. Deep breaths. Panicking will get you nowhere,” you told yourself. It was certainly true. You had read plenty of stories about hikers and cavers panicking when they became stuck in caves, only to make things worse by doing so. That being said, you never anticipated getting stuck in a tunnel like this. Not immediately panicking was a lot easier said than done. You were beginning to see why even experienced folk were able to become so easily distraught. Your heart rate was already beginning to spike.

You took another deep breath. Hyperventilating would only make things worse. Biting the inside of your cheek, you flashed your light over the fallen rocks, and cursed From the looks of it, the way you came in was completely blocked off. Attempting to dig through this mess might just make things worse. Not to mention, the rocks still looked loose. One wrong move, and more might come caving in on top of you. “...Well, no use going back that way, I suppose.” You mumbled, sounding a lot calmer than what you felt. Oh how you desired to scream. Shuffling a bit, you leered behind you, further into the tunnels. Your flashlight could only light the way so much, but it was better than nothing. Better than wobbling around completely in the dark having a panic attack. At least you could fight your panic attack in some form of light. “Positive. Just think positive.” You mumbled as you hobbled to your feet. You let out a pained yelp as you tried putting pressure on your left foot. Yup. Something was most likely broken. This hurt like hell. Grabbing the nearby wall for support, you placed the flashlight in your jacket pocket, and fished around your other pockets for your phone. Finding the device, you unlocked it, only to let out a shaky sigh. No service. Fucking figures. “That’s… fine. I can just… make my way through the tunnels. I’ll either find an exit, or a spot for cell phone service. It’s okay. I will be okay.” You weren’t okay. But at least you could lie to yourself until the shock wore off. Shoving your phone back into your pocket, you took your flashlight back out, and eyed the tunnel ahead of you. “Well… no time like the present…” you spoke, swallowing down the urge to cry. Reluctantly, you began making your way down the tunnel. It was slow, and painful. Your leg may not be as bad as it could have been, but it most certainly was giving you trouble. Several times you thought about stopping, only to shake your head and press on. You had to get out of here as soon as possible. You feared if you took a break, your thoughts would begin to spiral, and you would lose the will to continue. A bit dramatic, but given the circumstances, well… You didn’t trust your brain at the moment. Not with the fear in the back of your throat. Slowly, you pressed onwards. Thankfully, limping down the subway tunnel surprisingly helped keep your mind a bit busy. The despair really didn’t hit you until you came across a fork in the road ahead. In front of you were two tunnels, where the tracks converged into one, leading back the way you came. You stood there, almost dumbfounded. Of course a subway would have diverging tracks. Why wouldn’t it? It was designed to take people to many different places across Unova, after all.

Still, seeing the fork in the road did little to help you. If anything, it made you this much closer to losing your shit. You really wanted to cry right now. You had been walking for at least two hours. You were tired, scared, and in immense amounts of pain… All you wanted was to go home, and crawl in bed. Oh how you wanted to strangle your boss for putting you in this position. Who knows? Maybe if you make it out alive, you’ll get the opportunity to do so. The thought of murdering your boss briefly helped against your growing nerves. However, you still had a choice to make. Left, or right? For all you knew, one was just a couple of miles to a dead end. Choosing wrong could potentially keep you here longer, and may even be a death sentence. Your hands shook as you looked between the two tunnels. Even if you weren’t injured, this was still a big choice to make. You only had so much energy, and you doubt you’ll be able to easily turn around and walk back the way you came if you choose wrong. So right… ...or left? Time was ticking. You couldn’t afford to sit and anxiously fight with yourself. Every moment you wasted was a moment you could be using to get out of here. That thought only made the knot in your stomach worse. Taking a deep breath, you decided. Just as you began to make your way left, you froze. It was faint, but you could have sworn you heard a noise coming from the right. Almost like a muffled tink of some sort. Whatever it was, it had to be far away, judging from the small echo, and how faint it was. But it was a noise. You couldn’t move, your heart racing. Thoughts were flying through your head a mile a minute. Down here in the tunnels, one little sound could be anything. From a stray animal, a rock falling from the structure shifting… ...Or even a person. The thought made you anxious. You would think the idea of finding anyone down here would give you hope. But why would anyone else be down here? Surely not someone up to anything good. Even you weren’t supposed to be here, only having been coerced to come by your boss and coworkers. You licked your lips. But if it was a person, they might take pity, and help you. But they could also hurt you and kill you as well. It was a gamble. And for all you knew, it might not even be a person. It could be a wild animal that would attack you for entering its territory. You wouldn’t even be able to run or defend yourself, no matter the case. You took a shaky breath. Quite the gamble indeed. You silently weighed in your options. Go left, and head into uncertainty. Or head right, and possibly get help. Your leg ended up helping make the decision for you. It was beginning to really hurt, especially after limping on it for so long. Any chance to receive aid was a chance you were going to have to take. The longer you were stuck here, the higher the chance of your leg becoming permanently damaged. And, y’know. Possibly dying down here alone from starvation. “Positive thoughts. Think positive thoughts.” You mumbled out through gritted teeth. With that, you forced yourself to move. Despite the circumstances, you tried to remain hopeful. Both for your own health, and peace of mind. You couldn’t afford to drown in despair just yet. The walk down the tunnel was slow, and it ate away at your nerves. Your flashlight could only illuminate the path ahead of you so much, and the anxiety of not knowing what you’ll find ate away at your mind. Every little noise, or odd looking object in the distance had you on edge. It also didn’t help that the further you walked, the more you began to hear noises. Strange noises. You couldn’t place what they were. Sometimes it would be tinks far off in the distance. Other times, you would hear what sounded like rumbling in the walls. Your light was no help. Whatever it was making such sounds was still too far away to be seen. Or again, in the walls. These were not comforting thoughts. You couldn’t tell if you wanted these sounds to be real, or a figment of your imagination. Going mad wasn’t exactly something you wanted to deal with this early on, but… ...You weren’t sure if you wanted to see whatever was making these noises at the end of the tunnel, either. In fact, you could feel yourself beginning to wonder if this was a choice you were going to regret. The thoughts weren’t sitting well in your stomach. The further you walked, the more you were fighting the feeling of being watched. It was silly, you know. There was no one in sight. No matter how many times you looked behind you, you never caught sight of anyone. Regardless, you still felt your hair stand on end.

“It’s just my nerves. No one is here but me. I’m okay.” You tried to assure yourself. Speaking it outloud helped a little bit, at least enough to keep you grounded. You could at least pretend to be okay a little longer if you could fool yourself. However, there was one thing that was beginning to distract you. There was an odd scent in the air. Several odd scents, in fact. The further you had walked, the sweeter the air had become. You knew this scent, but couldn’t quite place it. The air was pungent with it, almost humid in a way. Another scent in the air confused you. It was almost waxy. It didn’t make any sense to you. This was an abandoned set of train tunnels. Why were there these specifically weird smells? That, and it’s not like someone could grow a lot of flowers down here. Sure, some might survive in the dark, but you couldn’t help but doubt it was flowers causing the weird scent. It was heavy. Whatever it was, there had to be a lot of it.

You wanted to have hope, and say it was perhaps a flower shop above ground, but you doubted that would be the case. You were far enough underground that you wouldn’t be able to smell a flower shop. Nor would one be this… pungent in a specific scent. Swallowing thickly, you carried on. Surely, something this sweet smelling couldn’t be bad, right? It didn’t ease your rising heart rate, or the feeling of eyes on your back. Then there were the ominous sounds. Not only were there rumbling in the walls, but the further you walked, the more it sounded like it was all around you. You idly wondered if you were going to die today. You already almost died once in these tunnels. Maybe whatever god was out there wanted to finish the job? ...You really needed to get out of here. Walking further in though, you couldn’t help but feel the urge to just turn around, and head back the way you had come. Each little noise, the scents, and the feeling of being watched only made you yearn to the other path you could have taken. But it was so far back, and you had already walked for so long. You were getting really tired… You stopped for a moment, and leaned against the wall. It had been hours. You were tired, hungry, in immense pain, and your nerves were shot. You wanted to rest. “I can’t. I need to keep going…” you tried to reason with yourself. You can’t rest just yet. It isn’t safe here. But your body was beginning to feel heavy and sluggish, despite how anxious you were. You imagine a part of it had to do with how much you’ve been fighting your leg. Otherwise, you’d be able to easily keep moving. Shaking your head, you gripped the wall to press onward, only to pause when you heard a loud noise up ahead. You don’t know what it was, but it was loud. Loud and big enough to shake the tracks on the ground, which vibrated with a hum, before slowing to a stop. Then you heard it. A loud buzzing sound coming from the end of the tunnel. Multiple buzzing sounds. Eyes wide, you could feel yourself shaking again. That… was not human. You didn’t know what was down there, but all your instincts were screaming to turn around, and hightail it out of here. You didn’t belong here, you needed to leave. You began to walk backwards, but before you could turn around- Your back ran into something solid. The blood in your veins ran cold. It took all of your will power to gain the courage to turn around. Slowly, you turned around, and saw you were face to face with a chest. You hadn’t been alone. You felt tears prick your eyes. Blood was rushing through your ears.

Hands shaking, you tilted the flashlight upwards. After a few beats, the light landed on a smiling face. You let out a shriek, and stumbled backwards, falling in the process. Your flashlight tumbled out of your hands, rolling away towards the tracks. You couldn’t think, you couldn’t breathe. You were starting to hyperventilate. Oh gods, you were going to die, weren’t you? This guy wasn’t human. From the quick glance you got, his skin(??) was yellow? And his eyes were black and silver… You swore you could still see them watching you, even though the light was no longer on its face. You were shaking, and you could hear his footsteps getting closer. Desperate, you began to crawl backwards, only getting so far with your broken leg. In your panic, you barely registered the footsteps veering off to the side. You only became aware the being hadn’t been walking towards you when it picked up your flashlight. Freezing up seemed to be the only thing your body was capable of doing as it got closer. They stopped right in front of you, and must have watched you curiously for a few moments. A beat passed. Neither of you moved. You heard an odd buzzing. You could briefly see the figure lean down, and you flinched, tears threatening to fall. When the being began to lean down, you closed your eyes and shook, fearing what may possibly come. …Only for nothing to happen. After a few moments, you cracked an eye open, and saw the figure holding the flashlight out to you. Staring for a few moments, you shakily reached out, and grabbed it. Were they not going to hurt you? Hesitantly, you shined the flashlight upwards, and fought back a gasp that threatened to leave your lips. “Hello! I am Emmet!” he spoke, a smile wide on his face. You were speechless. A hybrid…? Yes, he was definitely a hybrid, now that you were getting a good look at him. His face was golden, but he had silver hair, hair that almost looked like fuzz. And then his eyes… They were silver, though where the whites would be, almost seemed black. Then you noticed the… Antenna? Antennae? And the faint buzzing… Looking behind him, you could faintly see what appeared to be bug-like wings. It hit you, just what exactly kind of hybrid you were looking at. “You’re… You’re a bee hybrid.” You spoke in awe. Insect hybrids were incredibly rare. Not many existed, and most that did, stayed with a hive or a colony. Other independent bug hybrids tended to stick to themselves. You swallowed nervously. He was very pretty. And also very huge. You don’t think you had ever seen a hybrid this size before… His smile only seemed to widen at your awed expression. “Yup! I am a bee hybrid, and you are a human!” He gazed down at you. You seemed at a loss for words. “Are you alright? That leg doesn't look very good.” His words brought you out of your daze. Eyes flickering down, you noticed your leg, and the throbbing pain suddenly became a lot more noticeable. You bit your lip. Walking as much as you had no doubt had put a lot of strain on it. You would be lucky if it didn’t have irreparable damage. You remained silent for a moment as the thoughts ran through your head. Thankfully, the hybrid, Emmet, you think was his name, was patient. “I… Got injured in a cave in, near the entrance down that way.” You told him, pointing towards the way you came. He glanced where you gestured towards, an odd look on his face. He turned back to you, and you nearly felt your heart jump in your throat from how fast he was. “I see. What was a human doing, entering these abandoned tunnels?” he asked. You felt a bit nervous, but decided to answer anyway. What could you even do? Run? Lie? Even if he seemed nice so far, there wasn’t a lot you could do for yourself. “...I came here with my boss and coworkers. They wanted to explore the abandoned tunnels. I didn’t want to go but… I was coerced into doing so, or deal with my boss’ temper, and risk my job. Said it would be a fun ‘bonding’ activity for the office…” you grumbled. You were still very much upset about this. All of this. You were exhausted, tired, and in a lot of pain. Your nerves were shot, you were alone in a tunnel with a stranger, and as far as you knew, he could kill you at any moment. You were tired. At this point, you weren't even sure if you could cry. Emmet looked at you, a calculating look on his face. You felt a spike of anxiety in your chest.

If there was a single bee hybrid here, did that mean…

You felt your stomach drop.

If a bee hybrid was underground, it wasn’t because they were lost or looking for flowers. The tunnels must be their hive. You were trapped in a tunnel leading to a hive. That explained the odd noises, and all the buzzing, you supposed. You felt a bit sick. You had been this close to presumably walking into a live hive. No doubt the drones inside would not take kindly to an intruder. Hell, the Queen would probably have had your head. Maybe it was a blessing this guy found you first, even if you weren’t sure of his intentions as of now. He was at least kind enough to listen to how you got here in the first place. Maybe he’d take pity on you and let you live? Or at least he could point you to where you need to go, so you could get crawling. In your internal musings, you were unaware of the internal debate within the hybrid’s mind. This was a golden opportunity! If you proved to be a nice fit, you had potential to solve all his hive’s major problems. If you proved unfit, well… Depending on how you act, they could either drop you off outside the city, or easily dispose of you. But he couldn’t let this opportunity pass! The hive was in too rough a position not to try. He was sure Ingo would agree, after listening to reason! However, he had to gain your trust. You were very much stressed and afraid. He felt for you, he really did! Being injured, and left alone in an abandoned tunnel with a different species was probably terrifying. He would be stressed if he was in your position too. He briefly looked over your leg, and fought back a wince. Sure, there wasn’t a lot of blood, most of the cuts having scabbed over. However, the skin was badly bruised, and there was swelling in a few places. Emmet didn’t need to be knowledgeable on humans to know that probably wasn’t good. And yet, he could help but admire this small human he had just met. From what he gleaned from your story, you’ve already been through a lot! Being betrayed by your boss and their drones? And to try and persevere by making your way through the tunnels, all while in immense pain? All for survival? He wouldn’t lie. You appeared to be very strong, mentally and emotionally at least. Even physically too! It was almost as if he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. He had been watching you for a while, ever since that fork in the road. His wings buzzed behind him for a moment in awe and excitement. Yes! Those made great qualities for a Queen of a hive! You could be a perfect fit! Plus, you were a verrry cute little human. He had seen plenty of your kind out and about, albeit hidden from their sights. You were way more cute and regal than any of those humans he had seen in the past. Now, he just had to convince you to try and take the role… …It wouldn’t be easy though, he’d imagine. Humans had their own lives, after all! They seemed to be verrry independent, and liked it that way, not wanting to be involved in other things unless they simply desired to. Not only that, but from what his hive has seen, humans were not huge fans of sudden change. Taking over a hive as a Queen no doubt would count as one of those sudden changes. So he had to make it tempting. But where to begin? His eyes landed back on your leg, and his antenna twitched. “Would you like help with that?” He asked you suddenly, and you nearly jumped at his sudden eagerness, hovering over your leg. “Huh?” You dumbly asked, not expecting the question. Help? What did he mean by help? “Your leg. You have put a lot of strain on it. It doesn’t look good. Let me help you.” You could only stare at him, trying to process what he said. “You can stay at the hive until you are well again!” He assured you, his smile seemingly growing excited. You couldn’t help but look at him a bit confused. “But… Won’t the uh, the Queen not like that?” You ask, slightly fearing for your life. If you ended up stuck in the hive with an angry Queen Bee Hybrid, you doubted you’d make it out alive. Especially if they were territorial. Emmet shook his head. “Our hive has no Queen.” Ah. His face almost fell as he said so. Well, that was one thing you didn’t have to worry about, but…

“What about the drones? And the other bees? Won’t they not take kindly to a stranger?” You asked, a bit hesitant. Not having a Queen made things less difficult, but that didn’t mean the drones and other bees would just accept you- “They’ll be no problem at all, I promise.” He spoke, confident as he attempted to assure you. “But-” “They will listen to me. I promise they will not hurt you. They will help you recover.” Silence followed his statement as you weighed in your options. Still, you couldn’t help but wonder… “Why would they listen to you?” It came out a bit more rude than you had intended, though he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, his grin grew incredibly wide. He leaned down towards you, almost like a bow, his wings buzzing behind him. “Because I am one of its Kings.”

#pokemon #submas #subway boss emmet #emmet #emmet x reader #pokemon x reader #submas x reader #hybrid!submas #hybrid!emmet #implied hybrid!ingo #bee hybrid emmet #beegearstation #beegearstation au #hybrid au #claustrophobia #cw injury #cw anxiety attack #zed.writes

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forestshadow-wolf · 7 months

Text

Trick or Treat!

Ao3 link || 2555 words

A novel concept if you think about it. what once started as a tradition to give a sacrifice in order to ward off ghosts – soap heard it started in France – now only a sacrifice of candy and sweets to children and the like.

Now soap sat in one of the loveseats in the rec-room, currently bugging the hell out of his lieutenant as he was trying to read. to be fair if the man really was annoyed, he'd tell soap to fuck off or he'd leave, so soap kept being a nuisance.

"You dressing up tonight, L.T.?" he had one leg thrown over the plush arm of the chair.

"What for, Johnny?" Ghost shot back with in an unamused tone, still not looking from his book. "Frankenstein" by Molly Wollstonecr- the rest of the author's name was cut off by ghost's fingers, soap idly noted.

"Fer Halloween." soap rolled his eyes like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Aint that for kids? ' thought we were grown men in the military, last I checked." the Manc scrutinized, not even giving soap the time of day. speaking of which, it was still pretty light out and soap promised to help Gaz with his costume later.

"Nae! never too old for some free candy. besides even if there is don't you wanna dress up just for the hell of it, like when ye were a wee one?"

"Never done it before, don't see why I should do it now." ghost grumbled.

"Wha-! yu've never gone trick or treatin'? now yer jus pullin my leg." soap sputtered.

"Johnny, why would I lie?"

Soap frowned. well that's not very Halloween-y. he made up his mind then and there, time to make the skeleton man himself into the pinnacle of Halloween. he pulled out his phone and shot gaz a quick text.

~-~-~-~-~

Bubbles 🫧: gonna b l8

Hatman🧢: K

Hatman🧢: Y ?

Bubbles 🫧: 👻 never been🚪2🚪

Hatman🧢: 👍

Hatman🧢: need help?

Bubbles 🫧: set up 🍬? gonna take him out 2nite

Bubbles 🫧: i'll help u after I get him done

Hatman🧢: 👍

Bubbles 🫧: thx

~-~-~-~-~

"c'mon then, we've got some major work to do."

"what are you talkin' about?"

"I mean we've just been assigned a new mission." soap chuckled as he swung his leg off the arm of the chair and stood up.

"and what might this new mission be? and why wasn't I informed first?" said suspiciously, closing his book.

"'cus it's a special mission for me, I just need your help to complete it." he offered a hand to pull ghost up.

"uh-huh..." ghost took the hand, even as suspicion dripped from his voice, and soap could practically feel the narrowed eyes.

~~~~~~~~~

"sit." soap demanded as they entered his room. ghost took a seat on the bed, and soap set his hands on his hips. "so, what do ya wanna be?"

"... huh?"

"for Halloween."

"I thought you were supposed to be working on a mission, Johnny, not fuckin' 'round with Halloween costumes." ghost asked

"I am. what do you want to dress up as?" soap answered, as he sorted through his closet. "I got a vampire, though it might be a bit small on ya. Zombie but between you and me it's a little cliche. or- OOH! I have just the thing. wait here!"

soap sprinted down out the door and down the hallway, nearly pushing people out of his way in his haste. he flung open the door to the linen closet and grabbed the first set of whites that he saw — which was surprisingly hard to find amongst all the camo green and grey.

ghost was looking at the pile of crafts on his desk when he got back. he reached around ghost for a marker and scissors.

"ok stand up straight." he panted enthusiastically, unable to wipe off the grin plastered to his face. ghost did so, after a moment of staring at soap like he'd gone insane— which granted he might have but that was besides the point, because that had happened long ago.

as soon as the brit complied soap threw the sheet over ghost's massive frame.

"the fuck are you doing, Johnny?" ghost growled,as he fought off the fabric. soap shoved the marker and scissors in his mouth so he could catch ghost's hands in his own. as soon as soap grabbed him, he stopped struggling, and soap spit out the items in his mouth.

"jus hold still, I'm trynna do somethin'."

ghost sighed, but did as he was told. soap fixed the sheet so that is lay more evenly on his head and around his shoulders, it was oriented so that the corners were at the sides and front and back of ghost, and just barely dragged on the floor. he uncapped the marker and marked two little spots where the hard plate of Ghost's mask outlined his eyes. finally he allowed ghost to pull the sheet off. he phone buzzed in his pocket as he was handed the cloth.

~-~-~-~-~

Hatman🧢: recruited 💰

Hatman🧢: progress?

Bubbles 🫧: 👍

Bubbles 🫧: made him a 👻

Hatman🧢: 🤨

Hatman🧢: how original...

Bubbles 🫧: shut it 😡

Bubbles 🫧: it's funny

Hatman🧢: ...yuh huh-...😭

Bubbles 🫧: just do ur job chuckles mcgee

Hatman🧢: 🫡

Bubbles 🫧: 🖕

~-~-~-~-~

he shoved his phone in his pocket again, and got to work on cutting out some eye holes. this was definitely coming out of his paycheck later, or someone's gonna get some awkward linens. ghost went back to browsing his desk. he wanted to get the holes as close to symmetrical as possible without marking it because they really didn't have time to put it in the wash.

"what's this, Johnny?" ghost broke the silence. soap looked up from and saw ghost holding up the red skull from his costume.

"ah it's for my costume. I figured I'd go as you this year, but obviously I couldn't steal your thunder so a took some creative liberties." he said, ignoring the heat flaring in his cheeks — he refused to be embarrassed about it. why should he be, it's just a costume.

ghost hummed and set it back on the desk, before picking up the shirt and pants he'd picked out. soap went back to evening the holes of the sheet, being careful not to make them too big.

"you keep all your costumes?"

"uhh.. only the ones I worked hard on." he said absentmindedly, holding up the sheet to see how it looked. "'k come 'ere."

ghost walked over and soap threw the sheet over his head again, adjusting it so that it was oriented the right way. then he stepped back to see his handiwork. all things considered it looked pretty good.

"you'll have ta go without the mask or it'll make the look bulky, we might reapply the eye black. I'd say it's a sucessful costume." soap rambled, making micro adjustments to the sheet.

"we?"

"er- you. I mean you, don't really need my help with that I suppose." he stumbled over his words, having realized his mistake.

"wouldn't mind the help. if that's cool with you."

"cool. yeah cool. awesome. totally cool."

"Johnny."

"yeah i'd be happy to help."

"why are ghosts always cowards."

that shocked soap out of his idiotic stupor. "huh?"... intelligent, MacTavish...

"'t's 'cus they've got no guts."

"aye 'n' beil yer heild." soap huffed. "terrible."

soap's phone buzzed again, and he pulled it out of his pocket.

~-~-~-~-~

Hatman🧢: done. it's getting dark

Hatman🧢: progress?

Hatman🧢: gonna need 2 start on mine soon

Bubbles 🫧: done

Bubbles 🫧: ur room meet in 5

~-~-~-~-~

"gotta run, L.T., gaz needs help suitin' up. so... I guess i'll come by your room when I'm done?"

"sure. see you then."

soap nodded, and then he was off, speedwalking through the halls — mentally cursing whoever put his and Gaz's room all the way across base from each other. like what kind of system is it to split up a task force, that just seems idiotic and impractical.

he did eventually make it. and by eventually he means like... 3 minutes of faster than average walking speed. he's impatient, OKAY! whatever.

when he opened the door to Gaz's room the man was attempting to zip up his dress. it was form-fitting, and on the shorter side— ending around the mid-thigh area, if his father saw any of his sisters wearing it, he might have told them to go change —and just looked expensive. soap won't claim to be a fashion expert, but he'd say that it complemented Gaz's skin complexion rather well.

"are you just gonna laugh at me struggling or are you gonna help me zip the damn thing up, Soap." gaz hissed at him. soap snickered but helped him nonetheless.

"makeup or corset next? we can do the accessories after."

"lets do makeup so I can breath while it's done."

logical. soap respected that.

"fair enough. hey, remind me to tell my sisters thanks for making me help them with their makeup."

"so needy, Tav." gaz joked, and gave him a nod.

soap gave him a playful shove as he reached for the pallet of eyeshadow, and eyeliner.

"so i'm thinkin' a smokey eye, then some wings. we should have gotten you some pink lashes to go, but oh well."

"sounds good."

admittedly soap was a little rusty, since it'd been a while since he's had any practice doing makeup, but it turned out okay. the eyeliner was the hardest part since he didn't want to stab out gaz's eye, but all in all, things could have been much worse.

"did you know you stuck out your tongue when you're concentrating?" gaz mused.

"aye, I get it from my dad." soap laughed. "okay, up. lets do the corset now. what time's it?"

"almost 7." gaz said, checking his phone as he stood up.

soap helped him slip it on, then started lacing it up. he made quick work of it, not unfamiliar with lacing up corsets either. he supposed that growing up in a large family of almost all girls would give someone a wide variety of skills. he was careful not to make it so tight that gaz couldn't breathe, but tight enough to hug his body like the dress.

"'k choker, then nails. think you can do the rest yourself? I promised to help ghost as well, and i still need to get my costume as well."

"yeah, yeah. for sure."

soap helped him clasp the pastel pink choker around gaz's neck, then helped him don the red press-on nails, and he was out the door. he made a stop at his room for his costume, hoping that ghost would let him use his bathroom.

he arrived with a knock, and it opened for him easily, with ghost's greeting call.

"if you wanna take off the mask, and put the sheet on I can- " he was cut off when ghost pulled the balaclava off in front of him without much fanfare, just shaking his blond curls out with a gloved hand. soap quickly shook himself out of his stupor and tossed the sheet over ghost, fixing it so it sat correctly over his head.

"how's it look, Johnny?"

"definitely needs the eye black for contrast." he hummed. "can I pull this up?" he asked, tugging the front of the sheet up just a bit. ghost nodded and flipped it over so the front of his face was exposed.

soap grabbed the eye black from the desk and started applying it in thick steady swipes of his fingers. ghost let him do as he pleased, even closing his eyes to let soap get over his eyelids too. it was over just a little too quickly for soap's preference, but he pulled the sheet down and, stepped back anyways.

"ah, can I steal your bathroom for like, 5 minutes, I havenae had a chance to change yet."

"'course. I'll help you do your eye black when you're done." ghost nodded.

soap threw a thanks over his shoulder as he headed to the bathroom. he threw on the jeans and hoodie first, next came the holsters, which he strapped tightly to his thighs to accentuate his ass because that's what ghost does. he's sure of it. last he put the soft balaclava, and opened the bathroom door, with the red skull-plate in hand.

ghost had him sit on his bed, as he shucked off his gloves.

"what instrument do skeletons play?" soap smiled. "the trom-bone." he said at ghost's look

"Christ, Johnny, that was worse than my own." ghost chuckled.

ghost knelt between his legs as he applied the stuff to his eyes, and he likewise closed his eyes to let him work. and again it was over far too quickly. but ghost gave him a few extra seconds by attaching the red skull-plate for him as well.

"thanks." soap breathed, and ghost nodded. "wanna go get gaz, the see what Price decided to wear?"

"sure. hey- what happened to your oh-so mysterious mission?"

"this is my mission. we're going trick-or-treating." soap smiled.

"sly dog." ghost laughed, leading the way out of his door.

they got to gaz's door in no time.

"gaz! we're ready! lets go find the captain" he yelled, pounding on the door.

"I'm comin', I'm comin'" gaz laughed as he walked out. "looks good, Ghost."

"thanks. it was Johnny's work." ghost nodded.

"ach, it's nothin'" he waved them off. "any of ye know what Price is? he wouldnae tell me."

he got a resounding no as an answer... up until they got to price's office and knocked on the door. said man proceeded to open the door with a fishing pole in hand.

"how creative, cap."

"look it was short notice." then man defended.

"aye, except that I had time to make ghost a costume- " soap rebutted.

"it's a Linnen with holes in it." price interjected.

"help gaz into his costume— which looks fantastic if i do say so myself. and get changed into my own costume after helping ghost." soap powered on.

"whatever." price waved him off with a smile, and soap let it go with a laugh. " we all ready?"

soap and gaz nodded, and assumably ghost too from the movement of the sheet. then they were all making their way through base, going from door to door with pillowcases in hand. they all fit right in with the younger members of base that were trick or treating, and everyone else was dressed up as vampires and werewolves and whatever else they fancied. the longer they were out the more fun it seemed ghost was having, and there hadn't even been any alcohol involved... yet. that would come after collecting candy, so that they could get piss drunk and eat enough candy to make them throw up.

they did make quiet a posse though. a ghost, a Ghost, a witch, and a fisherman. quite an odd combination, but if that didn't capture the high school experience of trick or treating then what did? once all was said and done, they even did the after trick or treating ritual of candy trades- one of his favorite parts, if he's honest.

#simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #john price #halloween fic #halloween #trick or treating #call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #ghostsoap #soapghost #el rambles

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