#she was always a little softer with el and that's what i really wanted to convey here
Text
dear el; from max
i bet u thought you'd seen the last of me.... nah jk. there will be more of these, but i'll probably post the last two on ao3. after this there is perhaps one...maybe two more that i will post here. maybe. maybe i'll just post them to ao3. anyway, onto the letter!
El,
I don’t know if anyone told you— shit—you probably already know about what’s happening here in Hawkins but,
If you’re reading this, it means he got me. Vecna. Henry. Whatever.
Which means you have my full permission to kick his ass.
I hope California was nicer to you than it was to me, and I hate to know that this is how you found out about everything. I hope you at least made some friends, but they better not be cooler than me.
I hate that we won’t get to have any more girls nights, and that the only ones we did have were from back then. Before Vecna. Those are some of my favorite memories, and I wish we’d hung out more before that summer. But don’t tell Lucas I said that. Or Dustin. They have it in their heads that they’re my favorite, but you’re still my best friend.
And you can have my Wonder Woman comics. I don’t have many of them left because of the move, but I won’t need them anymore. I want you to have them, as like, a memory of me.
You might have to fight Erica for them, though. I promised her some, too. But I’m sure she’ll share them with you if you ask her nicely.
I wish we could’ve had more time. I wish that we could’ve hung out without some world ending threat always knocking at our door. Maybe in another life we could’ve been normal, teenage girls and talk about boys and magazines and shit.
School’s been lonely without you. Mike and Dustin have joined this stupid nerd club and Lucas has tried to be with me but with everything I just, I haven’t felt like being around people. Nancy tries, she offers a seat at lunch and she’s always telling me ‘I’m here for you, if you need me, Max.’ But really I’ve just wanted to be alone.
And look where it’s got me.
I got all of your letters, by the way. Every single one of them. I kept them in a drawer in my nightstand. I read all of them, re-read some of them when I was a little lonelier than usual. I should’ve written back to you, or at least sent the other letters I wrote to you. I’m so sorry I didn’t—you have every right to hate me for that, by the way.
I just…I couldn’t figure out how to actually reply after the first two or three letters. I couldn’t pretend to be happy anymore and eventually it just got too hard. I shut myself out from almost everyone. I thought I could handle it on my own, that everyone was just pitying me as the girl who lost her shitty step-brother in the mall fire, but it turns out I can’t. And that it wasn’t pity, they actually cared about me.
I think that was harder, honestly. To know that people actually cared about me and wanted to see me get better. I pushed everyone away. It was easier.
This feels like it’s a little too late, but I hope you can forgive me for not writing you back. And thank you, for still writing letters to me even though I wouldn’t write back. I don’t think I would’ve lasted this long without you and Lucas. Even though I’ve not been the best friend or girlfriend in the world, you guys have still been there, even when I wasn’t. Or didn’t want to be. You guys were there anyway.
I should’ve written you back. Should’ve given you something to let you know that I was okay. And now all of this shit’s happened, so.
I’m sorry that this is the last thing you’ll get from me. I should’ve been a better best friend and I’m so, so sorry that I wasn’t. This is gonna sound really sappy and sad, so don’t tell anyone, but you’ll always be my best friend, El.
Promise you’ll kick this creep’s ass for me, okay?
Love, your best friend, Max.
#stranger things#max mayfield#el hopper#elmax#this one was harder to write i'll be honest. i hope it still sounds like max.#she was always a little softer with el and that's what i really wanted to convey here#notice nothing's crossed out.#but i hope that's what comes across! that she's still max but she's just less closed off around her.#feedback is appreciated but pls be nice about it <3#my writing
29 notes
·
View notes
Text
The ghouls, but it's how I currently headcanon their personalities. Below the cut.
Aether: Overall, he's a giant goofball and loves a good night out with friends.
People tend to assign him a very "fatherly" role due to his appearance and his tendency to take care of his friends in little ways, but he certainly doesn't see that as strictly something a father, or any sort of guardian, would do.
Friends can take care of their friends and not be their parent!
That being said, if someone called him the "mom friend" he would wear it as a badge of honor, because that means his friends trust him.
Dewdrop: Comes off as a bit of a grump, though in an endearing sort of way.
Despite putting up a wall in front of others, when he's with his friends, he smiles easily and more often than he realizes. Very expressive when he's not trying to hide his emotions, and is known to be a bit of a crier when he's happy.
He's very used to people judging him based off of his appearance, for better or worse, so instead of dwelling on what others might think, he just does whatever he pleases.
Short hair, long hair, skirts, pants, dresses... The world is his oyster and he's here to tell people to "shuck" it.
Cumulus: Very independent and knows what she wants in life, actually getting it is another matter entirely.
She has a lot of interests and hobbies that she doesn't talk about a lot, because 1.) She's afraid people will judge her for them, and 2.) Sometimes enjoying something alone is the best way to experience it.
Due her her looks, she often finds herself being burdened with the problems of strangers who see her as easy to talk to/approachable, but this has lead to her learning a lot of... unfortunate/uncomfortable things about people she either just met or barely knows at all.
Although she's always happy to provide a listening ear to a person in need, she'd really rather just be able to eat her lunch in peace, thank you very much.
Sunshine: As curious and creative as the day is long.
She's always working on something new, be it music, art, or some other sort of craft, she's always got something in her hands... because, truthfully, she wouldn't know what to do with herself otherwise.
A very active, social creature, who feels the most alive around others, and when she's not? Well, that's why she has all those hobbies to keep her busy!
She has some self worth issues, and, if left alone for too long, will question whether or not she has value when she's not entertaining others.
A classic case of "Please check in on your funny friends." if there ever was one.
Swiss: Like if the weird uncle met another weird uncle and they got together and had a baby.
He's a charismatic sort who could light up a room with his smile alone... if only because they're so shiny. He's strange in cryptid sort of way, and, worse yet, he knows it.
Bold and adventurous, he's the sort that loves to take the lead, not for the fame or the glory, no. It's more so because he lives life by the rules of that one Cyndi Lauper song.
Ghouls just want to have fun, ya know?
However, in spite of this, he's not an extrovert. If anything, he's an introvert that's a bit too good at masking how much he's rather be at home right now. Ehn. C'est la vie.
Rain: Quiet, but not shy, no, and many a person has learned that the hard way.
Very fond of presenting himself as a demure, delicate gentlemanly sort, but he very much knows what he's doing when he's looking at you through his eyelashes and playing coy.
Still, there are times when his softer side is genuine, but that version of himself, the one that snorts when he laughs and gives the biggest, brightest smiles, is reserved for his friends.
He needs a lot of alone time, and it's clear when he hasn't gotten nearly enough.
When he's overwhelmed, he can be a bit abrasive, but he's always very open about when he's having a bad day or needs his space, so there's that at least.
Cirrus: The friend you go to when you've done something you don't want anyone else to know about, that helps you without asking too many questions.
The true ride or die.
A very blunt person who tells it like it is and doesn't sugarcoat things, even if a bit more tact would be appreciated.
She has a very broad sense of humor, and laughs easily at even the simplest of jokes, but, hey, farts are funny, okay?
Tends to be a bit bad at physically comforting others, and isn't sure how to initiate hugs.
Mountain: A lot of people see him as the calm, tranquil one, but he's also incredibly stubborn and uses beating the shit out of his drums as a healthy means of dealing with years of pent up frustrations and anger.
That's not to say he's always angry, but he does have a temper, and while he manages it well, he has been known to snap when pushed too far.
Very particular about who can be around him when he's having "quiet time" as some people have very different ideas of what that means.
Secretly thrives in chaos, and, because of this, is the perfect person to ask for help when shit has hit the fan.
Needs a nap, like, yesterday.
Aeon: Bright eyed and bushy tailed, and oh so ready to tear some shit up! But, also, like, only if that's okay? Please tell him it's okay.
No, really, he needs to be explicitly told he's allowed to do it.
He's confident in his skills as a musician, and he's not too worried about how he fits into the band, but socially? To be honest, he's not sure if he's doing anything right.
Has a bit of, "HEY, MOM! MOM! LOOK WHAT I'M DOING!" energy, but that's to be expected.
Not really a personality trait, but he can't say the word "macaroni" right.
Aurora: Like if the playlist you made when you were fourteen came back to haunt you as an adult, but in a good way?
She's so full of confidence and wonder, it's hard to believe that she can be so happy with everything going on in the world.
"Never a bad day." she'll say, even if the rain ruined her picnic, or someone's been mean to her.
Never a bad day.
Someone should really tell her it's okay to admit when something is wrong before squashing it all down causes her to break.
#lamp rambles#shitghosting#nameless ghouls#ghost band#the band ghost#ghost bc#ghost band headcanons#nameless ghoul headcanons
100 notes
·
View notes
Text
Promptober: Day Four
Steve Harrington x fem!reader
688 words.
Steve thought the idea of a bonfire with the kids was a recipe for disaster. You thought it was cute. So that’s why Steve was following Eddie around the Wheeler’s backyard, picking up fallen branches and twigs, an almost scowl on his face.
“You’re fuckin’ whipped, Harrington,” Eddie snickered, arms full of wood for the fire. He had a leaf in his hair, a smug grin on his lips.
Steve scowled, kicking at dead leaves to unearth the sticks he was searching for, glaring at the other boy as he laughed. But he didn’t argue, he didn’t deny it. Because Jesus Christ, he was.
“You try sayin’ no when she looks at you like that,” he grumbled, cheeks flushed at his admittance but Eddie just nudged his shoulder into Steve’s, a silent agreement.
“Whatever you say, lover boy. D’you think we’ve got enough?”
It was only supposed to be a small fire, made safely in the old metal trash can that Mike had dragged out from the side of his garage, but Dustin started throwing in dried out leaves and grass, Eddie found some gasoline hidden behind old bikes and toolboxes, and well-
“Jesus Christ, they’re gonna burn their eyebrows off,” Steve moaned, eyes rolling as he pulled Will back by the scruff of his neck, El by her wrist. “Mayfield! Your scarf!”
Sure enough, the fringed edge of Max’s woollen scarf was smoking, orange embers caught in the material. The girl only shrugged, flapping the length of it in the air, a little too wildly, grinning when it smacked Lucas in the face.
“Why did I agree to this?“ Steve whispered to himself.
Arms came at him from behind, wrapping themselves around his waist, over the bundle of his winter coat, gloved hands linking at his stomach.
“Because you love me,” you quipped lightly, voice muffled from where it was pressed into his hood.
Steve broke your hold, turning around to return it, catching you around your neck as he pulled you to him. He laughed, a huff of warm breath that turned to mist in the air, pushing his cold nose to the side of your cheek.
“Can’t really argue with that, can I?”
You hummed back, delighted with his admission, arms wrapping back around his waist. The air was filling with more smoke, the smell of burning wood, wet grass and sugar as Nancy passed out comically oversized marshmallows on skewers.
“It’s nice,” you told him, chin lifted up to press into his chest so you could look at him. Steve was all hard shadows and soft glowy skin when the firelight caught him, the rest of your friends silhouettes by the fire, a mess of flushed cheeks and sticky sugar on their hands and lips. “They’re having fun.”
Steve grumbled but it was softer than before, tinged with affection now that you were in his arms. “S’pose so,” he agreed, “as long as none of the little gremlins set themselves on fire.”
“There’s still time for that,” you grinned and Steve didn’t bother with a reply, just smiled at your smile and leaned down into you, pressing a kiss to your lips that was warm and soft.
He didn’t break it like he’d planned to, not when you curled your hands into the lapels of his coat, tugging him down into you a little further. He obeyed, giving you what you wanted, just like he always did, and when Dustin and Erica started to fake gag into the fire, Steve simply spun you both away from your audience, lifting a middle finger in a salute.
“You’re supposed to be supervising us, you animals,” Eddie jeered, throwing more sticks into the fire, his hands way too close to the flames.
And with Steve distracted, each kid decided to toast their marshmallows into oblivion, Steve only pulling away from you when the smell of burnt sugar filled the air and he turned just in time to watch Max chase Mike with a flaming stick, chocolate on their cheeks, the rest of their friends cheering.
Steve looked like he was experiencing heart issues. “Oh for fuck sake-”
#steve harrington#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington oneshot#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington fanfic#stranger things#stranger things fic#upsidedownwithsteve's promptober
707 notes
·
View notes
Text
I’m toying with this idea where Steve falls in love with Billy from afar, through things he overhears or things people tell him.
I’m a sucker for fics where people fall in love with someone after they die (there are Harringrove ones, I think, but my favorite is a Superbat fic), but this would be a softer version because I live and breathe post-season 2.
It starts when Steve’s driving the brats around, and hanging out with them on weekends. Max goes from scowling when she gets out of Billy’s car to looking a little lighter, a little softer, then to laughing. Showing Billy the middle finger looks like a joke.
Sometimes Max still goes quiet, staring at nothing like she’s mulling over secrets she doesn’t share with the Party.
Once Eleven starts to hang out more with the kids, she and Max become fast friends, and Hopper asks Steve to drive El around when he can’t. It feels good to know the Chief trusts him like that.
When the kids are hanging out, Max and El sit close and talk with their heads together, laughing until their faces are red. The boys look terrified. Steve thinks it’s hilarious.
Turns out El’s curious about siblings after watching something on tv, and Mike doesn’t want to talk about Nancy too much. And Max doesn’t really have anyone to talk to about Billy. The boys don’t get it, they don’t like him, and that’s fair. He scared them. But he’s still her brother.
Steve just happens to be around when they talk about him, is all. People underestimate him a lot, especially the kids. But he’s always got an ear out for trouble.
Except what he hears isn’t trouble at all.
“… they didn’t come back until Sunday anyway. Billy rented movies and made grilled cheese and stuff. We stayed on the couch all night,” Max is saying, leaning against the kitchen counter in the Wheeler’s kitchen. They came up for a food break, but the girls are refilling their sodas off to one side. Steve is quietly washing dishes at the sink.
Last weekend, Max missed a Party gathering because she had a cold. Dustin had complained the whole time that she must be miserable stuck at home with Billy. He would have rallied the kids to storm the house if Steve hadn’t put a stop to it.
“Feel better?” El asks, speaking softly and standing close to Max. They’re talking like they don’t want the boys to hear. The way Mike and Dustin are arguing over what pizza to order, they’re not gonna hear them anyway.
“Yeah,” Max says, smiling a little. “It was just a cold. Billy painted all my toe nails neon green while I was sleeping, and then he hid the nail polish remover so I couldn’t take them off yet. Asshole.”
“Can I see?” El asks, face brightening and smiling wide. Max is already lifting a foot to take a sneaker off.
Steve smiles softly at the sink. That was unexpectedly sweet of Hargrove, not just look out for Max while she was sick, but make her laugh about it a week later. Steve knows there was a party last Saturday, though he ditched it to hang out with the kids. Guess Hargrove didn’t go either.
#might work on a part 2 later and post it tomorrow#Harringrove#harringrove fic#billy hargrove#billy x steve#steve harrington#billy and max#mine#max mayfield
234 notes
·
View notes
Text
GLADIOLUS
A Willel ficlet
It’s late one night when El comes into Will’s room after a nightmare, it’s routine by now after a few years of living together as siblings. She’s laying in his bed, the warm light from his bedside lamp illuminating the room in a soft glow.
He doesn’t shut it off, he knows it helps her just as it does him.
The room is silent as he waits for her to speak first, if she wants to. He is no stranger to silent nights following nightmares, taking comfort only in the others presence. A sign that they are still here, that they won the war waged against them from the midst of their childhood, despite how it bled into their adolescence.
She runs a trembling finger across her wrist, her breath shakes with each inhale.
“I wish it would wash away.” Her voice shakes too, her words bitter to hear, he’s sure they’re even bitter to the taste.
His eyes land on the two black marks on her wrist, just an inch south of her palm. A cruel reminder of all she’s been through, a sick mark of trauma that has just barely faded with time.
“I hate it.” Her voice is softer now, her eyes drifting from her wrist to meet his. “I hate it, Will.”
He understands. He understands in the same way Jonathan understands, how Max understands, Nancy and Dustin.
Physical marks left on them. His scar on his hip from his possession, Nancy and Jonathan’s scars on their palms from cutting them to lure the Demogorgon, Max’s loss of vision and the slow of her mobility, Dustin’s limp from his leg never healing quite right.
The scars fade over time, sure, but hurt like an open wound at the slightest glance. They serve as a reminder of what was taken from them, stolen from their tiny grips like they ever stood a chance. Cruelty branded, a permanent mark everlasting on their bodies. On their minds.
His eyes drop to her wrist, his hand cupping hers gently as he runs a finger along the dark marks on her pale skin.
“Maybe, when you’re eighteen, you can get it covered up.” He says, looking up to see her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Her head is cocked to the side.
“Covered up? I can do that?” She looks down at her wrist, her eyes a little brighter now. “With more tattoos?”
“Sure, if that’s what you want.” He traces along the numbers again. “Would you?”
She smiles, a gentle yet genuine smile pulling at her cheeks. She nods. “But what would it be?”
“Anything you want.” Will adjusts in the bed, his blanket falling completely into his lap and pooling around his legs. “Something you find meaningful or, if you want, just something you think looks nice. Something you like.”
She thinks for a moment, silence stretching on as she stares at the mark on her skin. Her smile only widens as the seconds tick by. He knows that look, the sparkle in her eye shining iridescent in the low lighting of his bedroom.
“A flower?” El glanced up at him. “I like flowers.”
“Hold on.” He smiles, getting up from the bed and making his way over to his bookshelf. He searches for a moment, producing an old cloth-bound hardcover book, the golden accents shimmering in the dim lighting of his lamp, the title ‘The Language and Poetry Of Flowers’ glittering. “Did you know flowers can have meaning? Like, symbolization of different things.”
“Really?” His sister perks up then, craning her neck to see the book as he flips over the cover and carefully leafed through the pages. His eyes skim through the words as he glances up, nodding with a small smile.
“Really.” He stops at the page he was looking for, grinning a bit to himself. “Mom loved picking flowers from the meadow when she was little. Hawkins gets some pretty diverse kinds of wildflowers, so my grandma got her this book so she could learn what they meant. These ones were always her favorite, but they’re native to South Africa, so she only ever saw them through her book.”
He turns the book towards her, the page showing a mix of pink and red and yellow flowers. She stares in awe.
“Gladiolus?” She breathes, a gentle hand caressing the page.
“It’s Latin for sword,” He leans closer, his finger pointing out the text below the picture. “Some people believe Gladiators from Ancient Rome wore them as protection. But it’s also means strength and courage, to overcome. Just like you always do.”
“I love it.” El sniffs a little, her eyes wetter than they had been before. “It’s perfect, Will.”
He smiles, reaching over to his nightstand and ripping out a page from his sketchbook before marking the page and handing the book to her. “Here, so you have a reference when you decide to get it.”
“Could…” El chews on her lip, her fingers fidgeting with the corners of the book. “Could you draw it for me one day? I want it to be from you, if that’s okay.”
Her words twisted into his chest, squeezing around his heart like a warm hug. His face broke into a smile.
“Of course,” He says, taking the book back from her outstretched hands. “I’d love to.”
She smiles at him, laying back in the bed with an expression of serenity. Her hand fell from her wrist for the first time that night and suddenly, it felt like everything would be okay again.
#willel#willel fic#willel ficlet#will byers#el hopper#el hopper byers#the byers family#byer hopper siblings#byler#<- target audience as well#it’s 6am when im finishing this#i haven’t slept yet but i couldn’t get the idea out of my head#El’s tattoo#idk if Will would ever be a tattoo artist but I do know that he would gladly design tattoos for his friends/fam#fluff#willel fluff#slight angst#if you squint#didn’t proofread bc im too tired :)
60 notes
·
View notes
Text
What I would change: El
starting off strong with my all around faves (and buying more time for me to actually finish BLs but shh), the Black Eagles.
And swinging right for the fences: Edelgard.
No notes, perfection.
Jokes aside, first thing that comes to mind is getting rid of the stupid joke options in her rat support. Like, god I hated that- I didn't pick either, on my playthrough, and remember that support as one of her more interesting ones, only to see most people remember it for El's scream being cute. Which. Sigh.
Other than that, absolutely give her supports outside of her own house+ Lysithea. Even more than the other Lords, she's the one who needed that, and it baffles me she didn't get it, they would not only allow her to get some juicy conflicting stances on her whole plan, but they would give the game a chance to justify why the other characters are willing to fight and die against their own country. As for the neat character stuff of her only supporting with those in her own house (The whole 'she doesn't let anyone get closer than the mask she wears' thing Edge of Dawn is all about-), just keep all of her other supports locked to post timeskip- hammering home that your actions have allowed her to let down her walls, just a little, and believe that people will follow her even when they know the real her-
Probably for the specifics I'd say the feargus four would need it most on their end of it (to explain why those three would follow her against their actual, genuine, friend in CF) (I'll go into that more when I finish BL when I do the Lions) , Leonie could get a pretty neat one about the fact El is. Kinda sorta absolutely complicit in Jeralts death, and shes going to honour her promise to Jeralt to look out for Byleth, but she's not best pleased with where that path has lead her. And just to even it out between BL and GD, Lorenz would have a fascinating tension with El, given that he'd be aligned with her whether he wanted to be or not, placing him on significantly more shaky ground on whether or not she trusts him-
(Mercedes would also be a good shout for a support, especially seeing as there's a certain someone to motivate you to recruit her on CF, but I feel that would, execution wise, likely end up too similar to Manuela's supports)
Which yeah, just a general aside, I'm absolutely giving all four (yeah four, I'm doing Ashen Wolves too) Lords more supports all around. Lord Supports are like, the place to explore the different routes differing character motives- (not applicable to AW, but doesn't need to be all four of them are getting more supports)
And, one that may be more of a hot take than above: downplay the fuck out of the romantic implications, replace them with Byleth filling the parental void in El's life. This is, to be completely honest, my read of canon anyway, the 'oh look, El's got a crush' moments all read a lot more of a general 'oh look, El's embarrassed to admit she's got a softer side,', and it really enhances the foil status between her and Rhea/Serios to read her relationship with Byleth as her seeing them as a parent and mentor- for. Somewhat self explanatory reasons. Rhea is commiting atrocities to get her mother back, El softens enough to commit far less atrocities because she has someone who can fill that role in her life (and also. She just really needs good parental figures yall-) (I have no doubt I'm gonna feel the same about Dmitri when I'm done with BL, these kids just need parents who aren't dead-)
Also: give her a way to get her hands on Seiros' stuff. Hell, give her only the shield (odds you're using SwordEl are low anyway), tweak Rhea's stats to accommodate and have her always discard it as a sign of just how much she's slipping on a CF route- she's so thoroughly stopped giving a damn about her own safety it's sword only time, get ready to be stabbed-
Let El find it on some routes as like a side quest or a map specific thing (The overall lack of late game optional quests does annoy me a bit overall)
Also on gameplay: pleeeeease let me use El's cool armour look as Wyvern Knight. I wanna see her cool badass armour but I can't because I like being able to move--
One last story note: give us more about El's siblings. Tell us about them, make us feel their absence in the narrative. Probably easier to do through Hubie than through El herself, given her absolute point blank refusal to dwell on the past, but if handled right could work as a show of her character development- she's no longer charging blindly into the future, shes willing to confront the pain of her past. (especially could work if you actually got to fight the Slithers, preferably pre-final-boss, and so get too actually see the part where she finally gets out of her abusers thumb which oh yeah that's a whole chunk of her character I would handle differently that I'm saving for when I get to talking about the Slithers-)
I think that's about it? And yes I did go back to doing these as one per character, it was getting long shh, gonna go through the BE in whatever the hell that order they default too in menus is meant to be, then the Golden Deer, Blue Lions, Ashen Wolves, the church, and then the Slithers (and then probably one or two 'oops I forgot to mention this' posts lol) gonna try and do at least one a day.
#fe3h#fire emblem#three houses#edelgard von hresvelg#edelgard fire emblem#It's been a hot minute since I finished my first CF and I only just started my second#So this is the one most likely to get a follow up lol#(will it be entirely bitching about armoured units? MAYBE)#fire emblem 3 houses
2 notes
·
View notes
Note
Who would win in a fight: Argyle or a gorilla?
Argyle would befriend the gorilla, and they would just become BESTIES like, literally. Argyle could befriend anyone. Let him around Vecna. I bet this whole situation will be resolved in five minutes. He’ll pull out some Purple Palm Tree Delight, say, “don’t worry, dude; I got what you need!” and Vecna, will curiously be intrigued by this, and smoke up with him. He’ll then ask if he wants him to take out Mike, Will and Jonathan (who have been rolling their eyes too much at him) and Argyle will wave him off and be like, “nah man, that’s my bestie right there, and his little bro, and his little bro’s boyfriend!” and Mike and Will will blush their fucking FACES off, but keep quiet because this seems to be going well…. And then Vecna says “alright, whatever” and a life-long friendship is formed. Argyle visits him in the Upside Down, says the place is SICK, and Will, Jonathan and Mike always accompany him out of guilt. But nah, Argyle and Vecna are besties. Mike and Will still haven’t talked about what Argyle said, and on the fifth or so visit down, Vecna tells Argyle that they aren’t together yet, but they both wanna be (about Mike and Will) and him and Argyle laugh their ASSES off, like Murray and Alexi. (Was that his name ? The Russian in s3? God, I’m embarrassed. It’s something like that).
And then, after they go back to Hawkins, (upright side), Will is like “they’re just high off their asses…” and Mike is like, “yeah, totally,” like the van scene because that was totally, totally internalized homophobia and being called out for the exact thing he wants. And then they are just silent, and not looking at all each other, and Will says, “okay well, see you tomorrow!” Before peddling away, (Leaving from Mike’s garage because y’know; cinematic parallels) - ! But this time Mike says, “wait, Will!” and this time, Will stops, waits, planting his feet on the ground, and turns to Mike. He has barely gotten further than the end of Mike’s driveway. Mike jogs over to him. They stare at each other. Mike opens his mouth and then closes it. Will says, “What is it?” and then, Mike just folds.
He grabs Will’s face and surges forward, kissing him. Will’s eyes SNAP OPEN and then slowly close as he dissolves into the kiss. He moves his hand from his bike’s handle to Mike’s shirt, pulling him closer.
They are both breathless when they pull away, staring at each other with WIDE EYES. Will’s lips are parted. Mike glances at his lips, then back at him. They let go of each other. Mike says, (doing that thing where he bites his lip, which we only see when scened with Will, but this time, he is biting his lip to hold back a smile. It’s obvious to Will that this is what he is doing) “uh. See you tomorrow.”
Will smiles at him, trying to not smile too hard as he nods. He says, “yeah, see you tomorrow,” and then kicks off again. He throws a smile back at Mike as he leaves.
Mike waves, still biting his lip. But as soon as Will turns away, down the street, he walks further down the driveway, watching as he disappears into the night. His smile fades into something softer but reminiscent; emotional.
We see his smile light up again and he looks down, walking back to the garage. He turns off the light and the garage door closes.
The next time, they go back to visit Vecna in the Upside Down, Vecna exposes them. Jonathan tells him to cut it out. Argyle nods his head in approval. “I knew you crazy kids would figure it out.”
Everyone is at peace. Argyle saved the world. With weed, friendship, and love. Eventually, he brings El down with him too, and she and Henry talk about shared trauma through Papa. Everyone heals. All because of Argyle.
One day, when he and Henry are really stoned, Henry says: I have something to tell you, man. Argyle says; “what homie?” And Henry tells him he can bring back those who he took the lives from. He will just need some help from Eleven.
He and Eleven restore the lives of Chrissy, Jason’s friend (forgot his name), Nancy’s friend (forgot his name), Eddie, and lastly, completely heals Max. Jason died during the Splitsville so he stays dead, but no one rly cares that much.
The end.
After the credits role, we see:
(TED WHEELER, accidentally eating one of Argyle’s brownies he left out. He ends up stumbling into the Upside Down. He thinks it’s all a hallucination from the Weed. He says Reagan needs to really strike down on the War on Drugs.)
28 notes
·
View notes
Text
OC Inspiration
[[ So I was doing a little visual meme but if course I'm someone that has to explain everything so I just decided to make a post list about it yahoo. ]]
Characters:
Chiyuki - Death Parade: Also known as Kurokami no Onna/Black Haired Woman before her name was revealed, Chiyuki was the person involved in the trials that helped Decim see the actions and words of others in another point of view. She challenged what he knew with her empathy and understanding of people. That was the biggest inspiration I took when it comes to Neff.
Megara - Disney's Hercules: Sassy and strong with a softer side. I don't think much else needs to be said there.
Chloe Price - Life is Strange: Specifically for Neff's younger years because I myself was a lot like Chloe. Fear of abandonment and rejection and becoming very aggressive and toxic in response to it. Neff actually does still have these bad habits but they're very rare now and require very specific circumstances. Borderline is a bitch lmao.
Chel - The Road to El Dorado: Another sassy type - serving as an aid with her own goals and is extremely expressive. Despite Neff's chronic resting bitch face the facial expressions she makes are so very animated that Chel is the best example to explain it.
Concepts and Series:
Magical Girls/Madoka Magica & Homura's role: I essentially wanted an adult magical girl. I wanted to play on the idea of children always being chosen to save the world by choosing someone that was older and sees the world for what it truly is, yet she's still young enough that it really makes you think on what it means to be an adult. Homura's role with her ability to manipulate/travel through time and space is something I wanted to combine with the next series.
Kingdom Hearts: Specifically the world jumping with Neff's ability to jump timelines and dreams, and the theme of light and darkness - but inverted. Light and darkness in my story are not opposites, but complimentary/foils. They are yin and yang, and a lot of the inspiration of Neff's theme is the focus on GREY AREAS - seeing the good in the bad and the bad in the good.
Yin & Yang/Chakras/Balance/Grey Areas: As mentioned before, balance and grey areas are a big theme in what inspired Neff. Black and white thinking is dangerous and I wanted to make a character that shows that because she used to be that person. I wanted a character that could. in a way, play devil's advocate in a way that makes people really think about black and white morals.
Aesthetics:
Night/Time & Space/Sky
Astral Witch
Dreamcatchers
Ravens: I'm grouping these together because I really wanted a combination of the ideas of science, magic, and religion vs spirituality. I wanted to make a character that essentially made all three topics coexist into one entity and showing how it is indeed possible - which is why I chose to focus on Native American culture and ideals and combining them with the 'modern day' witch. The first three are self explanatory, but I wanted to play with the meaning of ravens in Neff's case. They're not a symbol of death, but a symbol of magic and creation.
Rain: Rain was always something that was very comforting to me and I wanted a character that encapsules that feeling. The drear and the gloom doesn't have to be sad. It can help you relax, get cozy, and rest. It can cleanse and be refreshing, and that's what I want people to feel when they're around Neff. Sure she often gives this rather bright energy, but I want those moments when she's raw and calm to feel like a rainy day.
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
el vs. jane — what are her thoughts? preferences?
it’s a lot more complicated than i think even she wants. to start, “eleven,” the full word/”name,” will always feel bad and she won’t like it. “el” is much softer. it was the first nickname she was ever given, by people she came to befriend and love. “el” has positive connotation, positive memories. she will always always prefer “el” over “eleven” and it’s as simple as that. where the complications start is when “jane” is introduced. she does eventually learn that this is her real name but i feel like she’s almost unsure as to how much she identifies with it. it was the name her mother intended for her, and she does love her mother, but she also never really ... knew her mother. so it’s hard to feel connected to the name “jane” immediately. she understands why she uses it in california, and that it is legally her name — she is ja.ne hop.per. she won’t deny that and she’ll never want that taken from her. but “jane” will always feel a little strange.
i feel there was such an adjustment period after getting to lenora hills, with her teachers and classmates calling her “jane” in the classroom — having to hear will, jonathan, and joyce call her by that name in front of other people. it felt a little foreign, especially from people she knows. but she does get used to it. eventually, i feel she comes to a place where she is happy with either el or jane. she’ll introduce herself to new people as jane, but when people call her el it still feels ... right. because, while it is a shortened version of the lab’s indentification of her, it was still the first thing anyone ever called her that wasn’t “eleven” (that she remembered). that makes it special to her, even warm. it was a very small step in a big journey her life was about to go on. the first step away from brenner and her lack of life up until that point.
i don’t think she will really police what people call her, but if they call her “eleven” she’ll just get this pit in her stomach. she doesn’t want to be a number, just one of many other mistreated kids. and she trusts her friends not to use “eleven,” but it would also be very clear how uncomfortable she is with the term.
as for me ... i will likely switch between el and jane. i will refer to her as both in my writing and in conversation.
1 note
·
View note
Text
What Taehyung is like in a relationship/ Taehyung as a boyfriend Tarot reading
How long does it take him to get into a relationship? & Does he prefer long or short term relationships 8 of cups, queen of swords, 10 of pentacles 9 of pentacles reversed, 4 of cups
Ffs the queen of swords always pops up. Anyway yeah I don’t see him getting into anything quickly. He could’ve in the past but I think past relationships left him drained af and feeling alienated. I think he has a shit ton of walls up and is a lot more no nonsense now. It’s probably intimidating and more blunt to others because he wants to get to the heart of why someone is trying to get with him since so many people try to pull the same shit and fuck around with him like he’s dumb. He does not settle for anything other than what he wants. If he can’t find “the one” then he legit just rather be alone. It looks like he’s now more focused on building a Legacy though and something serious and long term so he has no desire to just jump into something with anyone. He basically would wait it out and get to know them long before deciding he trusts them enough and feels comfortable enough to show his emotions and not be so aloof.
I feel like he’d be the type to not show much interest at first because he really needs to scope the person out. So the person probably wouldn’t even know he actually likes them. Actually he could be a little too jaded and bored to the point of turning away everyone even though he does want a relationship. But in his mind there’s too many people being carbon copies and trying to swindle him for his money bruh for real all of bts are having this problem like damn it keeps reoccurring. Idk why it seems like there’s people also trying to use money to get with him like they’re rich and they think he’ll just want someone loaded. Like dude he’s already rich so that doesn’t work and to him them having a ton of money means Jack shit when they have the personality of a damn rock.
Past & present love life 10 of swords, 2 of pentacles present: the hermit, 5 of wands
Past love life: welp. Do I really need to explain the 10 of swords. I think actually that he had all this past trauma and shit from relationships and even other shit he still hasn’t dealt with but there was no time to even process that because he had to get back to work and act like he was fine. I think he’s the type of person that buries himself in his career when he experiences traumatic stuff that he doesn’t want to deal with. And of course it’s easier when you’re busy 24/7 anyway. This relationship betrayed him in every way tbh but maybe it was a catalyst for better things to come though he still might not see this right now. Present: I don’t see him in a relationship now currently cause the hermit but also being a major arcana it’s like he’s really in a life stage right now where he just wants to be alone because there’s so much conflict going on and he’s feeling anxious and having all these negative pessimistic thoughts that he just needs time to himself. I don’t think he very optimistic about his love life right now he’s lost a lot of hope. Things are too chaotic elsewhere to focus on romance.
What is he like in a relationship? the chariot, ace of cup, Unicorn, fae 61, solus 13, vanth, the sun reversed, anger and chains 29, justice, 2 of swords reversed, 3 of cups reversed, avenoir 1, princess of pentacles,ta’om the poet 29, ace of swords, Thanatos
What is he like in a relationship? When he’s in a relationship he really puts all his focus on that person and will go above and beyond for them. There’s a kind of masculine and feminine balance in him in the sense that he’s ready to be the go getter and take charge but there’s also a vulnerable energy and overflowing emotions. He works hard to take care of his person and make the relationship work . The only downside is he could possibly be too smothering to his partner or come on too strongly because of past shit and maybe too clingy for some people since in a relationship he really shows his softer side and he’s not as aloof as he is to others. He loves to have little house parties with his partner and have friends and family over with a ton of food and music.
For date ideas he’s down for anything but especially something “magical” maybe literally some place like Disneyland or pagan festival like beltane? That’s specific af but there’s a medieval type of energy and nature spirits and shit, he wants to do stuff he hasn’t done before and that might even be outside his comfort zone since G. Hobyah card is all about imaginary fears and getting past them. The best qualities he has in a relationship is the ability to help his partner stand on their own 2 feet but also recognizes that you can’t do everything on your own so he’s the type of person who would go above and beyond and connect you to the right people or situations. He’s always there when his partner really needs them and will make sure to put time aside.
His worst quality is that I don’t think he knows how to express his anger in a healthy way. I think with the sun reversed next to anger and chains it’s more like he doesn’t know how to fully show it it’s kinda repressed but his emotions under the exterior are a hot mess and there’s a big need for stability. It’s like being too stubborn to admit when you mess up and petty shit cause it hurts his ego. But I don’t think it’s super bad considering the justice card I used to represent his communication style. I feel that even if he gets mad af he gets over things really quickly and one minute he’s be angry and 10 minutes later he’ll be asking you what you want for dinner like wtf.
When he likes someone he’s not going to jump in and immediately go approach them. I see him instead watching them intently from afar lol he’s very cautious and like gathering everything he can on that person. Dude’s a 1st class stalker. Jk But the thing is the person wont even know he is interested in them because he keeps a serious face as a kind of mask but on the inside he’s like a giddy kid. Ta’om is known for looking serious and thoughtful but is actually very playful and slightly mischievous. I think Taehyung is definitely one to start off as friends and slowly get to know someone rather than just start dating because he really wants to know that person well to see how real they are and if they’re just putting up a front.
He’s not attracted to new shiny things that are perfect he’s able to see the beauty in all things even in difficulty. After he’s been friends with them for awhile and knows if that person like him back, that’s when he’d actually make a move. He finds a lot of satisfaction in doing services for others until they’re completed so it makes me think his love language (giving) is acts of service but with the ace of swords is pretty obvious his Receiving love language is words of affirmation but moreso he appreciates when someone is blunt and honest and not just saying stuff to make him feel better cause then it’s just insincere.
What is his ideal type? the ageless, the star, the singer of healing 10, el shaddai, protection 26, ram, the maestro, fae 41, the sage 19, king of cups reversed, himself 17, danu, death reversed, obsession
His type: this person seems to have had some messed up stuff happen to them in their past. Even when others were horrible to them they still kept their dignity and chose to still give to others instead of give in to bitterness and despair. It’s like the Phoenix where no matter how many times they metaphorically die, they can still rise up even better than before. I think they’re able to help heal others because they’ve been through the trauma themselves but they know how to be honest and blunt without being overly mean about it. They have a kid of tough exterior though I think from years of negativity from people that’s made them strong but also a little distant from people and they need a lot of time to themselves to recharge and get away from peoples bs. Honestly this seems a lot like Taehyung too lol I think he wants someone who’s been through similar traumas.
The ram keeps calling out to me that I think this persons way of showing love is a little aggressive but that’s what Taehyung likes in someone tbh. It’s not like actually showing love it’s hard to explain. It’s more so you know when someone tries to act like sarcastic and shit to hide the fact that they like someone? Idk why it reminds me of toph from avatar the last airbender where she just punches people to show affection it’s kinda like that. Cause they’re not good at being really vulnerable. They put on this brave face and are pretty good at it to the point where you won’t notice that they’re jealous seeing you hang out with someone else. But this person is really independent like I’m not joking lmao and a go getter they don’t rely on anyone really. And don’t give a fuck who you are.
There’s 2 healing cards and honestly why is this person so similar to Taehyung lol this person is great at helping or healing others but again has to realize it’s okay to also get help for yourself. They think maybe that they’re fine on their own and they don’t like relying on others for help because people disappoint you and it’s easier to just do it yourself. But they’re really good at giving advice and are lot nicer than their exterior let’s on. Bruh the star card makes my mind keep playing that I’m gonna be a star song by twice lmao stop. I think this person actually is a star or is working up to it cause they have huge plans. This isn’t someone just wanting a mundane job I think they’re gonna go big.
Especially paired with the ram talking about they go for big dreams and huge successes. This person won’t stop until they accomplish their dreams they really don’t care what others say and will go to the extremes to get there. I see they have a lot of talents anyway but some people were like saying negative shit that their dreams are impossible but they’re learning to set boundaries with other people and it’s more of a just move in silence energy. Also usually I don’t say zodiac signs but since it’s a major arcana it might play some significance but Aquarius might be prominent in their chart (nvm I just remembered Taehyung has venus in Aquarius so duh you dumbass it wouldn’t be that out there to think he’d be drawn to Aquarius qualities).
I wonder if this person is into astrology though given all the glyphs. I think this is someone Taehyung has been trying to manifest and call in too like wishing on a star for a looooong time and maybe thought it wouldn’t come but boy does the universe have a surprise for you. They really are future oriented thinkers and know a lot about spirituality I think that a big part of who they are I really don’t think they’d be completely atheist or not care about spiritual topics. They give a lot without much thought in return and can talk about anything with openness and honesty. With Taehyung they’d teach him everything under the sun. He likes when he can share all this knowledge especially about weirder topics with someone who isn’t going to dismiss him. I see them really encouraging him to try new things and show him things he never knew were possible. They treat him like he finally belongs somewhere in the world.
This shit is kinda spooky because both the maestro guy and illbe the retriever are holding orbs/a little white ball close to them and they speak of the same thing. This person really protects Taehyungs hopes and dreams. Also they themselves obviously represent a dream that Taehyung thought was long gone and impossible. I think it can be taken literally too lol to mean that when Taehyung is being forgetful af. This person is that type of person who has your keys already when you think you lost them. They’re really the more responsible one in the relationship lmao helping him to be more organized and get his life together. The next set of cards I used to represent what his biggest turn ons are. This isn’t in a sexual way though lmao I meant the qualities he likes the most in his ideal type. Already I noticed how all the cards are facing straight ahead and looking right at you so it makes me think this person has some intense ass eye contact and looks intimidating and they got a rbf.
With the king of cups reversed I don’t think they’re actually these heartless cold bitches and that Taehyung is turned on by that because the sage card is upright and talks about the same shit but this is a person definitely who looks colder but is actually kind on the inside. He kinda likes people who look cold like that but are actually sweethearts. This person is not one of those super lovey-dovey people or uses pet names and babytalk like “my sweet baby Taehyung” whatever I think they find it very cringe. They have some trauma from when they were kids where they felt as if they aren’t allowed to act very emotional because people will think they’re weak and take advantage of them (this is just their beliefs about themselves) they instead act very macho or tough again lol like Toph from ATLA idk why I keep thinking of her but there’s like a kinda tomboy energy but they’re really not heartless they just need the right person to feel comfortable around and need to work on opening up emotionally.
There’s so much masculine and yang energy but then at the end you see this motherhood figure so it again really makes me think it’s a front and this person is so nurturing and that’s what really draw Taehyung to them. He loves the most that this person knows so much about the most random things and esoteric topics. They value tradition and stability but they also understand the need for growth and change they’re the perfect balance. Communication is really a big thing for Taehyung it’s a reoccurring theme in this. Someone who is very good at communicating and are action oriented. They say what they mean and mean what they say. It’s very important that they are their own unique individual self and have their own goals and skills and hobbies.
This person is probably a powerful manifester too and sets their intentions and goes after them. They have so much power and confidence also with the himself card they could be a dancer or love dance since he’s a dancer faerie they’re very much into creative shit. They seem very natural and not the type who got work done or wears too much makeup idk there’s like a wild energy lol like this bitch is from the damn forest. If someone attacked Taehyung this person would literally drop kick someone even if the person was bigger than them. Danu card is always protective and nurturing but ferocious if you mess with their person. Like “idc what you do to me but if you touch my guy I’ll end you”.
Now onto what Taehyung’s biggest turn offs in general are: death reversed and obsessed card lol oh god bro I am fucking done. His biggest turn off is when someone makes him the center of their universe. I mean this in the extreme way like “omg you’re my one and only we’re meant to be I think about you 5000 times a day and have an entire closet with all your pictures and I document your entire life” 👀 and he’s like uhh can you get a damn hobby? (That doesn’t involve me) Cause imagine someone’s entire life revolves around you. It’s sweet at first I guess? Lmaoo then it’s just creepy and like they have no life or personality without you. Death reversed is like something is plaguing you and following you around, pestering and annoying you. He must’ve experienced this shit irl lmao if it’s this strong with a major arcana to come up as a turn off. Cause major arcana are big ass life lessons. Like they thought he wouldn’t know they were secretly obsessed with his ass and used other people like his friends to get closer to him but I’m telling you Taehyungs intuition is something else and he always knows when people are some obsessed crazies. This is exactly why he’s so cautious now because of bs like that he can’t trust anyone. Like please stop acting like Jodi Arias and have some self respect.
#kpop tarot#bts tarot#taehyung#kim taehyung#kpop tarot reading#bts astrology#bts#kpop#kpop astrology#bts readings#bts tarot reading#bts v#bts taehyung#tarot#bangtan#bts boyfriend#kpop readings#free tarot readings#free tarot#oracle cards#tarot cards#kpop predictions#tarot love#tarotblr
441 notes
·
View notes
Text
Some agentreign, with a tattoo artist Alex!
Alex knew the roughly sketched symbol, of course. How could she not recognize the insignia of the character her sister played on her show—the campy series with its sometimes shallow commentary or ham-fisted allegories of the world, but that left enough room for interpretation that lent to a beloved view of its main cast.
When Alex glanced up at the woman who had booked her afternoon slot, there seemed nothing outwardly fan-ish about her—her aesthetic one of corporate power, her blazer a sharp cut from a designer Alex couldn’t be bothered to know the name of, her palette choices bold, but smart—not someone she would have read as having much time for fun. But then, Kara was much the same, and she knew better about how deeply her sister loved being a part of a show about superheroes.
“My daughter really loves the show,” the woman offered with a little wave of her hand at the drawing, a jittery air around her, as if she anticipated the judgment she might face, “and Supergirl is her favorite character, of course!” She laughed, a short puff exhaled as her shoulders sagged and her hand returned to ring together with her other. “She said I was her Supergirl the other day, and if you knew how much she loves the character—“
Alex stopped her then, a gentle smile touching her lips. “That is a beautiful base for a tattoo,” she assured. She stepped forward, reached out without thinking, hand covering the nervous twist of fingers, warm against her palm. That close, she realized how tall the woman was—especially as her shoulders pulled back and she straightened up just a little.
Alex almost withdrew her hand as the woman’s teeth clacked sharply together. She watched lashes flutter over warm chocolate eyes as they dropped to where their hands touched, lingering while their breath was held as one.
“Wow— ” one hand pulled free of hers, Alex’s stomach ready to turn, only for fingers to run so gingerly over her own skin—from wrist up her forearm—drawing her gaze down to the full sleeve of ink that she had poured her own heart into, disappearing beneath the once-tidy cuff of her shirt, since stained with the efforts of the day. “Your tattoos are… so…” she had heard all manner of words to describe the art she wore—everything from ‘intense’ to ‘troubling’—rarely a favorable opinion coming from someone who wasn’t an enthusiast, “catching.”
Alex swallowed as those fingers traced a line of color, meant to accentuate the form of the figures at the center of the design—both a representation of herself, stood back to back; one stripped down to blood and bone; the other painted in an unnatural light, too ‘perfect’, meeting all the expectations placed on her, shackles on her wrists and chains weighing down her shoulders.
“I designed it myself,” she said the first thing to come to mind, her eyes almost rolling at her own lack of wit.
“I really like it,” the woman commented before seeming to realize how long she had been touching Alex, her hand jerking upward, a marvelous warmth reaching her cheeks.
They parted, a full pace put between them by the time Alex found the breath to offer her thanks.
“So, um, did you just want the insignia?” Alex held up the sketch to bring them back to business.
The woman faltered, a plea writing itself into her expression. “Well, um, so, you might be able to tell, but I’m not much of an artist,” she exhaled, a laugh bubbling up after, plucking at the chords of Alex’s heart. “I know I want to use the symbol, but I… I don’t know what else to include.”
Alex chuckled along with her. “That’s alright,” she assured. “Come on, let me stretch a few ideas for you,” she waved for the woman to follow her, leading them to her drawing table. The sigh of relief she heard tickled up her spine, and she had to resist shivering.
Drawing on little bits of knowledge she had picked up from Kara, Alex started with a simple base, offering the traditional symbol along with a few alternate designs—some softer, some sharper, some with broken or doubled lines to add a bit of extra dimension—before getting into a range of accenting options.
The woman was vocal with her thoughts as she looked over Alex’s shoulder, humming approving notes when something stood out to her, or commenting on the touches she liked, allowing Alex to easily evolve the piece. There was particular interest when she mentioned the phrase ‘el mayarah’ and explained its meaning.
“Oh! Ruby has definitely said that before,” she gushed, the happy little sigh that accompanied the words tugging at the corners of Alex’s lips, her grin so effortless. “We should definitely include that!”
It wasn’t long before they had a final design— staying true to the show’s version of the insignia and incorporating both ‘el mayarah’ and the script of the language used by Supergirl, wreathed by a flowy, cape-like backing.
“This will likely take two visits— one for the linework and base coat, and then another for the detailing. Is that okay?” She certainly wouldn’t be sad to see the woman again and grinned when she agreed. “You said you were hoping to have this on your back,” Alex prompted as she led the woman to her station.
“Over my heart, yeah,” she confirmed.
“I really like it,” Alex echoed the words spoken to her, and she genuinely meant it. She loved the way the woman talked about her daughter, how every word ran deep with love, how cherished the little girl was.
“Is there anything I should know... going in?” There was a surge of nervousness buzzing in the air as the woman shrugged out of her jacket, folding it neatly over the chair at Alex’s desk.
There was a moment—as Alex watched buttons slipping free of their holes—that she forgot herself, staring longer than might have been polite before she busied herself with putting on her gloves and arranging her inks. “Mostly that when I’m over your ribs, you will feel it,” she sucked in a sympathetic breath. “But, I’ll be gentle, and you can always take a break, if you need.”
She waved the woman toward the chair, turning away as she divested her bra and slid into place against the padding.
“Comfortable?” She got only a nod before she pulled up her own stool. “Relax,” she coaxed, placing a gentle hand on the woman’s back. “I’ll take good care of you and you can swear all you like.”
“Glad to know it.”
As Alex had warned, the woman did feel it. Her breath hissed through her teeth, a sharp inhale that tugged at her, but then she relaxed beneath Alex’s hand. “Good girl.” The words slipped out before she could think to question them, and her own breath caught in her lungs, her gun lifting away from the woman’s skin. There was a soft shiver and then stillness, the barest whimper bubbling out of the woman.
Alex could have perished. The woman was so pliant beneath her, and it took everything to concentrate on the design. But she leaned into that soft praise, continued to encourage her to stay loose, and things went very well—hardly needing to hold the woman still and working straight through without a break. And in the end, she did manage to finish the whole piece, running only slightly overtime.
There was a little disappointment knowing that she likely wouldn’t see the woman again. “If you need any touch-ups, you can always reach out,” she offered.
“Thank you,” the woman said as she gingerly slipped back into her jacket. She bent over Alex’s desk, scribbling something down on the sketchpad with all the trial drawings. “Maybe we could get dinner some time,” she nodded down at the page, where her number was scrawled.
“I’d like that,” Alex grinned, excitement blooming in her chest. The woman’s name was also there on the page. “Then, I’ll see you later, Sam.”
“I look forward to it, Alex.” The sentiment echoed through her for days, accompanied with the image of Sam’s haughty little smirk.
240 notes
·
View notes
Text
How they tell you they love you
This ended up quite long so I do apologise!
Including: Frankie, Din, Marcus M, Javier, Whiskey, Dave, Ezra, Oberyn and Marcus P
Frankie -
Frankie had known that he was in love with you for a while before he said anything. He had been avoiding relationships - working in the Special Ops wasn’t exactly the easiest job for maintaining one - and that’s why when he met you he tried his hardest to stop himself from falling for you, even though he knew he was. He knew it every time he looked in your eyes, or watched you smile, or heard your voice when you answered the phone. In a few weeks time he would have to go away for a couple of months for work and he would only be able to talk to you through emails whenever he got access to the computer. You had told him that you didn’t want to finish what you had just because he was going away but he couldn’t help the fears that were taking over his whole body. What if you realised you didn’t actually like him when he was away? What if you met someone who you better deserved? What if he scared you off when he came home and had to deal with the nightmares that were always worse when he got back?
That night, as he kissed you good night and felt you fall asleep in his arms, the fears took over once again. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to calm his breathing but the thoughts wouldn’t stop. You stirred in his arms and he opened his eyes to look down at you and suddenly all his thoughts were silenced. He watched the way your eyebrows were furrowed and he wondered what you were dreaming about. He knew in this moment he had to tell you before he got scared again. He gently shook you awake, watching as you opened your eyes, searching until you found his. “Frankie, honey, everything okay?” you asked in your sleepy voice as your propped yourself up on your elbow to look at him. “Everything’s fine. I just- I just had to tell you something,” he said, turning so he was now fully facing you, “I love you”. He watched as a sleepy smile took over your face and how you slowly leaned in to give him a kiss. You pulled away just enough to look in his eyes, “I love you, Frankie”. He couldn’t stop the smile that took over his face as he pulled you back into his arms for you both to fall asleep knowing that he didn’t have to worry anymore.
Din -
Din showed and said he loved in other ways a long time before he actually said those three words. It started with him helping you out, sitting with you and helping while you sorted out the compartments of the Crest to make it more organised. It then moved to taking any excuse to touch you in someway, brushing his hand over your arm as he reached by you for something or letting your hands touch as you walked next to each other. Eventually, one day in the cantina he sat his hand on your leg as you eat your food before moving his arm around your shoulder when other men leered over you.
When the Kid is taken by Moff Gideon, you are part of the team that are on the rescue mission. When travelling to Moff’s cruiser, Din is planning for any outcome. While he wanted to be sure that everything would go fine - he would get the Kid and the Clan of Three would be reunited - anything could go wrong. He watched as you took apart and cleaned your blaster, trying to distract yourself from what was about to happen. He knew he loved you. He knew that was the word for what he was feeling. It wasn’t just care, it wasn’t just friendship, it was a love that filled his whole body with warmth and a feeling of security he had never felt before. You were his home. He moved to sit next to you, slowly taking your hand in his. You looked up to him, giving his hand a squeeze, “we’re going to get him back”. He looked down at you, the confidence in your eyes making him believe wholeheartedly for the first time that you would get him back with no problem. “I love you”. He said it plainly and simply and as he squeezed your hands watched the smile that broke onto your face, “I love you, Din,” whispering his name so no one else would hear.
Marcus M -
Marcus showed you he loved you before telling you through the trust he had for you. He trusted introducing you to Missy. He trusted letting you pick her up from school that time he was running late. He trusted letting you into his heart, the first person he let inside in years.
You and Marcus were meant to have a day to yourselves today while Missy was over at a friends but just as you arrived at their house, Marcus got a call saying Missy’s friend was sick and they would have to cancel. Marcus had told you she had been looking forward to this all week and you could see the look of disappointment in her face. You remembered the science museum you drove by on the way here and decided to offer an idea, “why don’t we all go there today?” Missy turned to her Dad, a massive smile on her face, “can we Dad?” Marcus nods and looks at you, mouthing a thank you. You all pile into his car and drive to the museum. It’s still early enough so you get in quickly and let Missy lead the way. You all stop and read the signs, interacting with everything you can. It reminds you of the science centre you used to go to when you were younger and you can’t stop smiling as you watch Missy run from exhibit to exhibit. Missy grabs your hand to take you over to something she wants to show you and when you both walk away she doesn’t let go. The two of you walk about hand in hand as Marcus walks behind, his heart swelling with how well you both get on. The last stop is the planetarium - where Marcus watches you and Missy more than he looks up at the stars surrounding you. He knows in this moment he wants to tell you how much he loves you. On the drive home, Missy falls asleep in the back of the car and he turns to you. He reaches over and takes your hand in his, watching you turn and smile at him. Before he can stop himself he whispers an “I love you” and watches as your eyes go wide before you smile, squeezing his hand, “I love you, Marcus”.
Javier
It will take a while for Javier to find the actual words. It took long enough for him to allow himself to act on his attraction for you, knowing himself that it was more than just a physical attraction. While you understood, knowing that the only other real relationship he had in his past didn’t exactly end well, you thought by now there would maybe be a little more. He would come by your apartment after it was dark and would leave before the sun came up. He would flirt with you the same way he flirted with the other women in the office (so not to let anyone find out you were together - or as together as you were).
This morning, he woke early as usual and began to get dressed. He tried not to wake you from your sleep, knowing you still had at least another hour before you would have to get up. The sound of dropping his keys woke you, causing you to sit up. “Javier, come back to bed. Why don’t we just go in together,” you said in your sleepy voice. “You know why,” he said, sitting at the edge of the bed. He traced up your leg and side gently, before leaning down for a kiss that you turned away from. He sighed, standing and putting his jacket on before walking out.
Knowing that you wouldn’t get back to sleep you decided to get ready and head in to work earlier than usual. When you arrived, the sun still wasn’t fully up but the place was busy with bodies moving about quickly. Messina called you into her office, asking you to go on a simple operation to where they got a tip El Leon was. You noticed Javi wasn’t in yet and so you and Murphy went together. It was anything but simple and very quickly it went south, resulting in a shot to your shoulder. It wasn’t too bad and was quickly fixed at the closest hospital. Just as the doctor was finishing up stitches, a frantic Javi bursts into the hospital. You can see him from the other side of the hall, watching as his eyes search quickly for any sign of you. Once his eyes meet yours he lets out a breath that he didn’t realise he had been holding in and quickly made his way towards you. The doctor was just walking away as Javi reached you, taking your face in his hands. You let him check you for injuries knowing he wouldn’t stop until he had, noticing the pain that flashed across his face when he seen your shoulder. He took your face back in his hands and gave you a gentle kiss, softer than any shared between you before. “I’m sorry, for everything,” he sighed, “I have to stop being so scared... I- I love you”. You placed your hands over his, “I love you, too, Javier”.
Whiskey
You and Whiskey had been getting on well, having been on more than a few dates by now. You knew you were falling for him and felt that he was feeling the same way in the way his eyes followed you, how he smiled lazily at you in the morning or how he lingered just for a moment every time he had to leave like there was something else to be said.
However, that started to change. He started to become more distant. You worried it was something that you had done wrong, or that you had looked into his actions more than was really there. In truth, it was because Whiskey was scared. The last woman he had loved had been ripped from his life and took him years to get over. He didn’t want to feel that ever again and his job made sure anyone who was close to him was at potential risk. One night, when he was having dinner at yours, you decided to ask him about it. “What? There’s nothing wrong,” he dismissed, asking you a question about work instead. “No, there is something wrong. Tell me,” you pressed. “I- I just can’t see someone else I love be hurt. I can’t let myself get close to someone like that again be taken from me,” he sighs, too caught up in his own thoughts to realise what he really said. “Someone else you what?” you whispered. His eyes widened, realising he had said the word out loud for the first time. He stood and moved round to sit next to you, taking your hands in his. “I love you,” he said, “but I don’t want anything to happen to you and that’s why I’ve been so... distant lately”. You took his face in your hands, “I love you, and nothing is going to happen to me. I’ve got the best cowboy-agent in the world as by boyfriend”.
Dave
Dave would be among the most confident in telling you about his feelings. As soon as he knew that what he was feeling for you was love he would let the words fall out of his mouth with ease.
It would be one morning as you were making breakfast, dancing about quietly thinking he was in the shower. He watches as his shirt from the night before hangs around you, looking better on you than it did on him. He smiles as you turn the radio up, singing along a little louder when one of your favourite song comes on. “Didn’t know I was getting breakfast and a show,” he interrupts. You turn around, placing your hand on your chest, “Jesus, Dave! You almost gave me a heart attack,” you scold as he chuckles, walking towards you now. “Tell me how you look better in that shirt than I do,” he hums as he wraps his arms around your waist, placing his head on your shoulder while you carry on with breakfast. You smile, turning your head to press a kiss to his lips. He knows right now how he feels and he lets the words fall out of his mouth, “I love you”. He kisses the back of your neck gently as you turn your head to meet his lips for a kiss, “and I love you, Dave”.
Oberyn
The Prince’s Garden had become you and Oberyn’s perfect place for some peace and quiet. You could just walk around the garden, holding hands in silence or quietly talking about whatever popped into your minds.
On this particular day, the sun was out and shining, making all the flowers stand a little taller. You hadn’t been talking much, enjoying the presence of one another enough for now. Every so often, he would squeeze your hand, pulling you slightly closer to steal a kiss, before continuing around the garden. You both eventually stop, sitting by the bench where you first met. You had found a poem that day that you wanted to read to him, taking it out of the book you had been carrying around. He watched you in absolute adoration, listening to every word that rolled off your tongue with such beauty and how your voice changed slightly when you smiled at the words. When you finished, you asked him what he thought. “It was beautiful. But not as beautiful as the person who read it,” he replies, making you blush. “Oberyn, you’re too kind,” you say back, reaching for his hand to squeeze gently. “I should be kind to the person I love,” he replies. Your eyes widen and as you try to find the words he turns his body to face you completely, “I love you,” he says with a smile.
Ezra -
Ezra would have no problem telling you he loved you the minute he knew that is what he was feeling. He watches and notices how the sun changes the colour of your eyes slightly, the way the side of your eyes crinkle a little as you squint from the bright light, your hum of contentment as it warms your skin.
He feels his love for you warm his body, running through his chest and spreading everywhere else. He takes your hand in his and tells you just that, “you warm me more than the sun, hold more beauty than the moon, carry more sparkle in your eyes than the stars. I love you, little bird, and I will shout it so the sun, moon and stars and everyone else hears what I have to say”. When you tell him that you love him too he pulls you close to his chest, promising to never let you go.
Marcus P
You have been looking forward to a night in with Marcus all week. You have both been busy with work and today is the first in a while you get to relax together so planned to get some takeout and find a film to watch at his place.
When you arrive, Marcus has the menu for your favourite takeout place sitting out on the table, telling you he was having a look to see what he wanted. You smile at the thoughtfulness, knowing you probably only mentioned it was your favourite once or twice before. When the food arrives, Marcus lets you choose the film, deciding on one you told him about the other night he had never seen before. He ends up spending more time watching you than the film, noticing when you smile or try and hide your tears. At the end of the film you turn to ask him how he enjoyed it but instead he leans in, giving you the most passionate kiss, before breaking away and breathlessly telling you he loves you.
#din djarin x reader#frankie morales x reader#marcus moreno x reader#javier peña x reader#javi peña x reader#agent whiskey x reader#dave york x reader#oberyn martell x reader#ezra x reader#marcus pike x reader#din djarin#frankie morales#marcus moreno#javier peña#agent whiskey#dave york#oberyn martell#ezra#marcus pike#headcannon#oneshot#fic#fanfic#fanfiction#din djarin x you#frankie morales x you#marcus moreno x you#javier peña x you#agent whiskey x you#dave york x you
225 notes
·
View notes
Text
Closer (NSFW)
synopsis: Ellie’s a beta. You’re...not.
notes & warnings: this is a/b/o smut with an alpha!reader, that means you have a retractable dick. don’t like = don’t read. also: genital repulsion is 100% valid, but genitals ≠ gender, and Ellie was using dick/penis/etc in place of the word boys/men/etc which is addressed and corrected! overstimulation kink aplenty! and, for the first time on negasonicteenageimagines, wing kink! implied babypool!reader, which I will probably address in a part 2 one day! I'm sorry I've been gone so long, had a really demanding job that sucked the life out of me and I'm just living on savings while I try to recuperate.
Ellie loves the feeling of your hands on her; running down her sides, nervously feeling her chest or ass through her clothes, but she hates when you grab onto her hips and stop her.
“Y/N…” She sighs, stroking your flushed face. She’s straddling your lap, you’ve been trading kisses and teasing touches for the past little while.
“I just- Just need a sec, to cool down,” you tell her. Like it’s wrong that you want her; that she wants you.
“Why?” Ellie asks, and you look up at her with a bit of a hurt expression. She knows why. You don’t think she can handle you. You haven’t said it, but it’s pretty clear. “W- Wait, I’m sorry. You don’t owe me an explanation. If you don’t want to, then I don’t want to, okay?”
“I mean, I do, you’re so…” Your hands tighten around her hips and she throbs, she wishes she could just melt into the touch. “I do. But…”
“I know,” Ellie sighs again.
“Can I hold you?” you request.
“Let me. You don’t have to be all-alpha, all the time. You should let me take care of you, y’know?”
“Mmkay,” you agree, letting her guide you so that you’re on top of her. You sink into her— not in the way that either of you would prefer —and let her tend to you, petting your hair and humming some old emo song. She strokes your wings next, and you shudder when she gets closer to the downy feathers between them. “E- El, we’re stopping, remember?”
“Right, sorry. Those softer feathers just feel so nice.”
“Thanks…” you mumble sleepily, and she smiles, though you can’t see it. You’ve always been self-conscious about your wings, but Ellie’s seen the beauty in them from the moment she first saw you. She’s seen the beauty in you since then, too.
Being with you is a dream, even if you’re not ready to take the next step. She just wishes she could reassure you; make everything better. It’s what you deserve.
“Dinner soon,” she softly warns, and you whine, closing your eyes tighter. “Babe, seriously, it’s too late for a nap.”
“Then what are you doing being such a good pillow, hm?” you argue.
She stammers before scoffing.
“Mhm, that’s what I thought,” you murmur.
“You’re lucky I like you,” Ellie teases.
“I know,” you hum, nuzzling. She’s probably covered in your scent at this point.
“You know, I get a lot of glares from your fan club when you do that,” Ellie grumbles, but she doesn’t really mind. She’s proud that everyone knows that she’s yours, and the other way around.
“My huh-what-now?”
“You know, that little group of omegas that…” Ellie trails off. She’s not sure whether she’s annoyed or grateful that you haven’t noticed. “They just really like you, that’s all.”
You’re not sure what it is. Betas have scents so light that emotion isn’t detectable, but maybe you can subconsciously smell the variation. Maybe it’s her tone, the way it slips from genuine nonchalance to something… Tense.
Whatever you’ve picked up on, it snaps you to attention. You sit up.
“What’s wrong?”
Ellie blinks at you. Out of respect to her, you do your best to suppress your overprotective tendencies. Clearly, you’re not making an exception for her this time. Your wings are all puffed up.
“Eleanor.” You only say her full first name when you’re serious. Usually it’s anger. “What’s wrong? Did they say something to you? Did they do something?”
“I- They just think you deserve a proper mate, or whatever. It’s not like you disagree, there’s a reason we haven’t done that.”
“Yeah, there is, but it isn’t something as superficial as that. You’re joking, right?”
“What? No, they really-“
“Fuck them, I don’t care what they think. I care what you think. Do you really think I’ve been holding back because you’re not an omega?”
“Well… Yeah.”
“Wow, um… Wow. Thanks for that, El. Didn’t know you thought that little of me, but… Cool.”
“Then what is it? Because I can’t think of any other reason!” Ellie snaps.
“Are you fucking serious?! Are you that fucking idiotic?!” You snap harder, you get up from the bed, and Ellie blinks in shock again.
“What?!”
“Ellie, you have said about a million times that you don’t like dick.”
Ellie’s furious expression immediately drops into one of regret, thinking of all the times she’s expressed utter repulsion towards your genitalia without even thinking.
“Yeah, I am that fucking idiotic,” she realizes. ”Oh, fuck, I really should’ve adjusted my language. I don’t like men! Fake dicks and ones otherwise attached to girls are fine,” Ellie explains. “Oh, jeez, Y/N, I’m so sorry. Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. Hugs okay?”
You nod tearfully, she gets up, and she wraps her arms around your waist. You hug her neck, pressing her into your chest while your wings also wrap around her.
“I’m really sorry,” Ellie apologizes a third time. “I can’t believe I was such a freaking jerk. Those omegas are right, I really don’t deserve you.”
“El, it’s okay. We’re all learning. I should’ve told you what you were saying was bothering me.”
“But, I mean, what I was saying wasn’t just insensitive to alpha women, it was transphobic. I mean, it’d be one thing if I was genuinely repulsed, but... I’m definitely not. I was so thoughtless,” she insists.
“Like I said, we’re all learning. You acknowledged what you were saying was wrong, and how, and now you're growing from it. That’s all anyone can expect,” you reassure her.
“I love you,” she says.
“I love you too,” you reply, holding her tighter. “I’m really sorry for getting mad at you. I should’ve known you’d feel self-conscious, and that other people would see a problem with us. I just… I guess I’m so happy to finally be with you, that… I don’t know. I forget that everything else still sucks.”
“Babe…” Ellie coos, looking up at you. You look into her eyes, and your frown is turned upside down. She grins back. “You’re so beautiful.”
Instead of embracing her, you now cup her cheeks with your hands, pulling her in for a kiss that gets deeper and deeper until Ellie’s under you with one of your thighs between her legs.
You two have never gone as far as to stimulate those areas, but it’s about time. You continue to devour each other, you fondle her chest before literally starting to tear her shirt off, not wanting to part from the kiss but wanting her to be wearing way less clothing.
She gives a surprised gasp, lips leaving yours.
You whine.
“You were literally ripping my shirt off.”
“It’s a plain black one. You have, like, five,” you grumble, bitter that you’re having to take a pause. She looks at you with frustration, but notices just how clenched your jaw is, the way your hands shake.
You’re starving for her. For anything, probably, hardwired to spend at least a week straight every month fucking. How long have you two been together now? Loyalty may be the bare minimum, but she feels the need to reward you for it somehow. You had plenty of opportunity to fulfill your needs elsewhere.
Ellie takes her shirt off, chuckling to herself at the realization that it’s now a v-neck instead of the ring-neck it was. She unbuttons your shirt, helping your slip your wings out of the window in the back.
Your eyes rake over her body, but you don’t touch, not without permission. Ellie’s always loved observing you, photography has made her a bit of a voyeur. Watching someone as beautiful as you hold back such primal urges is downright delicious.
She can’t help but resume kissing you, lips and teeth and tongue mashing together. It’s animalistic.
“Can I please touch-“ Ellie’s cut off with a moan, the seam of her skinny jeans and the pressure of your thigh hitting just right. “Mm, wings?”
You hesitate.
“I’ll be gentle,” Ellie pleads.
“Okay,” you consent, resuming your kissing.
You’ll never forget the first time she touched your wings like this.
You two hadn’t just started dating, but you hadn’t been together for long. You were snuggling on the couch watching some movie or show on Netflix.
At first, she was just stroking your back, right above where you’re most sensitive, if it wouldn’t mat your feathers, you’d cover it up completely.
You’d tensed up a little at how close she was to the soft, more tender feathers, but she hadn’t noticed. She danced her fingertips further down and continued to stroke.
You choked on air, scrambling away from her quickly and blushing like crazy.
“What?” Ellie asked incredulously.
“I- Um- How do I put this?” You were still panting. “It’s gradual, like, um, for the most part it’s not very sensitive, but when you get closer to, um, the center of my wings, um…”
“Oh, fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t know it hurt,” Ellie apologized, and though her tone didn’t betray it, you could see in her eyes that she felt awful.
You quickly shook your head.
“Wait, then… Oh. Oh!” Now she was blushing. “Sorry.”
This time, she’s skipped over the less sensitive parts again, not even building up to where she’s touching now, right in the center. You moan into her neck, clinging to her as she toys with the raven feathers between your shoulder blades.
She chuckles, and you growl.
“That’s cute,” Ellie murmurs, and you start to rut against her thigh again, feeling your member start to harden, and therefore extend from your body. “Big bad alpha, but I bet if I asked you’d let me put a collar on you, wouldn’t you?”
“Holy fuck, yes,” you moan. No girl has ever made you feel this way before. Of course, you’ve had sex before, but... It’s always been about the other person. Knot me, choke me, tie me up, Alpha, please, you remember the whines of past partners, whether they were omegas or simply curious alphas, and you appreciate Ellie’s independence, her borderline dominance. Maybe this time will be a little more vanilla, but the thought of...
“Kiss me again.”
You obey, and this continues for a bit longer, her mumbling sweet, disgusting nothings while you get bigger and harder and closer.
“El, I- I’m so-“
“Huge?” Ellie attempts to fill in the blank, intimidated by your size. It’s bigger than her strap by a long shot.
You just whine.
“Can I- Can I see?” she requests. Your cock is straining against your bottoms, so you’re happy to take them off as she removes her own. She urges you to prop yourself against some pillows and allow her to be on top. Her already doe-like eyes are even wider. “I- Uh- May I?” She has a hand outstretched.
You stutter before settling on nodding. Her hand carefully wraps around you, she slides her fist up and down so slowly. You give a trembling sigh.
“This okay?” you ask, still nervous.
“Mhm,” Ellie quickly responds, cheeks turning redder. She runs her thumb over the head— well, more like a face, since it’s your clitoris and some of the skin that surrounds it —and you squeal. “Alright, I think I kind of get it,” she mumbles.
“You think?” you choke out as she continues to stimulate the bundle of nerves; she bites her lip to hold back a smirk. You’re careful not to buck your hips, wanting her to go at her own pace. You instead roll your shoulders, wings feeling cramped with the way you’re sitting.
She notices.
“Here.” Ellie takes a pillow from beside you and has you lean forward. When you recline again, it’s thick enough to keep you off the headboard and it’s right between your wings, so every time you move…
“C-Clever,” you stammer, and she reaches out to stroke your cheek. You don’t know why, but you flinch.
“Shh… It’s okay. I’m not gonna hurt you, babe.”
You nod. You know.
“You alright?” she asks.
You nod again.
“Can you use your words?”
“Yeah, I’m okay,” you reassure her, letting go of a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.
“Do you wanna keep going?” She’s so beautiful; so perfect. She likes to pretend she doesn’t care, about anything, but she lets you have the truth. She does, often too much. And she loves you.
“Please.”
Your enthusiasm hasn’t waned even a bit, Ellie notices, and she starts to stimulate you with both hands now, thumb sweeping over your clit while she strokes up and down your cock.
Your knot starts to swell, just a little.
“Hng, El, wait,” you tell her, and she tears her hands away immediately, looking concerned again. “Nothing bad, I just… Can I please finish you off at least once, before I do?”
“Oh, uh, sure.”
“Really?” She sounded… Hesitant.
“Yeah,” she says with a relieved smile. “You just surprised me, that’s all.”
You’re trying not to give into your instincts, to not throw her down onto the bed and just take, but it must be obvious with the way you hesitate to even touch her as you try to readjust your positions.
“Babe, you know I want this, right? You don’t have to be careful.”
You look down at your dick, and then skeptically at her. She follows your gaze.
“You’re as small as an omega but with none of the evolutionary traits to keep me from breaking you.”
Ellie’s cheeks flush. You always know when she wants to tell you something— or if she has some sort of request —but she’s too embarrassed or nervous, her lips curl inwards, pressed into a thin line. Her eyebrows pop up, just a little, and the puppy eyes just barely start to form, though they avoid yours.
You look to her expectantly.
“What if I want to be broken?”
“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” you argue, and it’s shaky. You want her, you want to do this for her, you want to give her everything.
“I’m asking for you. All of you,” she insists. “Please.”
You nod, before taking her face in your hands once more and pressing your lips to hers. The gentle kissing devolves into practically devouring her lips with yours.
You mouth at her neck, at all of her, nibbling and licking and sucking until you reach what you’ve been aching for and tug her boxers off, burying your face in her and finally getting to eat.
“H-holy fucking…” Ellie’s grateful that you’re too focused on the task at hand to look up at her.
You slide one finger in, then another, curling as you use the tip of your tongue to stimulate her clit. You continue to prep her, she realizes with a smile, as she gets closer and closer.
“Could I…?” Her fingers tangle in your hair, but she doesn’t dare to pull. You growl. She’ll take that as a no.
She doesn’t tighten her grip, instead moving her hands to the sheets, but she still rocks against your mouth, begging for more, for release. This certainly isn’t what she’s used to.
“I- Ah- Y/N, fuck, don’t stop, please,” she pants, Eventually, despite her impatience, her moans turn into nonsense until she’s finally over the edge. You work her through it, or, at least, that’s what she assumes you’re doing, until she’s clearly overstimulated and you don’t stop.
She did just ask for all of you, including the sex drive, the insatiable urge to please your partner, and everything else that comes with being an alpha.
The feeling just keeps building and she continues to twitch under you, whimpering and clutching the sheets until a gasp is torn from her lungs and she’s finished once more.
You don’t stop.
The third one comes out of nowhere, she doesn’t feel close at all until suddenly it’s there and she’s crashing over like a waterfall, drowning in pleasure.
“I- That’s- That’s enough, please,” Ellie insists. You lick a slow, wide stripe from her entrance to her clit before sitting up. “Could I, um… Return the favor?”
“You want to?” Your head tilts in confusion. You’re still self-conscious, she realizes.
“I do.” She gets out of the way so that you can lay back down, pillow between your wings and cock still hard and exposed between your spread legs. She tentatively starts to give you a handy again, still unsure of where to start. “I, uh… I don’t think I can fit all that. Is that okay?”
“Of course. You really don’t have to do it at all, I don’t mind.”
“I want to,” she insists, before starting to suckle on the tip, smoothing her tongue over your clit again and again. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, hard, toes curling. She slowly inches down before gagging and pulling off with a rather cliche pop.
She looks gorgeous with tears in her eyes. She tries again, now knowing her limits but still pushing them every now and then. She uses her hands to make up for what she can’t fit in her mouth, rather skillfully.
“Wait, I- Hng, Ellie, stop,” you moan.
She pulls off, looking worried.
“I- I don’t wanna finish until I’m inside you,” you quietly explain, now you’re avoiding her eyes. She smiles softly, before opening the drawer on her bedside table and grabbing a box of alpha condoms.
“Will these work?”
You nod.
“And would you like to fuck me now?”
“Don’t say it like that!” you protest, before clamping a hand over your mouth, surprised at how bratty you sound.
“Rather whiny for an alpha,” she taunts. “How would you like for me to say it, then?”
Her eyebrow arches and you swear you could finish if she just kept looking at you like that, with that challenge in her eyes that no one else would dare to look at you with. You start leaking precum, and she bites back a smirk once again, waiting for your answer.
“I- Uh… I don’t know. Just, not so vulgar. You’re- You’re special. This is special. Not just…”
It clicks. You’re not sure how it does for her, but it almost always does. She’s intuitive, at least, when it comes to you. Her expression softens. This time, at least, she knows when to stop.
“I get it. Please, I’m ready for you to- I mean, I’ve practiced with my strap, but other than that, no one’s ever- No one's ever done that for me. I want you to.”
You rearrange yourselves once more, letting her rest on the bed and putting a spare pillow under her hips.
You kiss her lips like you’re starting all over, slowly kissing every inch of her. She’s delicious, soft and smooth and tender. You want to sink your teeth in.
You don’t, instead opting to rise up and sink a couple fingers into her, adding a third once you think she can take it.
Ellie tightens around your curling fingers, desperate for more. She rocks downwards, she wants to be filled.
“Okay, love, I get it,” you reassure her in a near whisper.
You take one of the alpha condoms and roll it on before carefully lining up with her entrance.
“Ha, don’t tease,” she whines. This is a little closer to what you’re used to. You slide right in, well, as much of you as you can actually fit, which is just over half your length. You’re not quite sure if you’ve bottomed out or if she’s not relaxed enough.
“Is it okay to move?” you wonder.
“Please,” she says, and so you do, starting with a slow, gentle pace before taking it up a notch. You’re fucking her wide open, but you’re still being careful as she turns into a mess of moans under you.
Eventually, though, you just can’t help yourself. You’re practically drilling into her, and now you know you’ve bottomed out because she’s taking all of you, flawlessly.
“Oh, fuck, I-“ Ellie continues to pant, calves propped on your shoulders. “You’re so- I- Y/N, fuck- You- I-“
“Sh-sh-sh, it’s okay. I know. I know.” You can barely string together words yourself, you two fit like you’re made for each other, she squeezes around you so perfectly while you abuse that spot deep inside of her that makes her eyes roll back and her flushed, swollen lips fall wide open. “You’re so perfect.”
“You, too, I- I love you,” she manages, and it’s the best thing she could’ve said. It always is. You kiss her forehead and her knees are now hooked over your shoulders, bringing you even closer. You keep taking her, eventually it’s just too much and she reaches between the two of you, stroking her clit so she can come undone again.
And when she does, her walls flutter around you, getting you right back on the edge. She reaches behind you, running her fingertips over that sensitive spot between your wings so teasingly, so fleetingly, and yet it finishes you; whimpering and moaning and groaning into the pillow, right next to her head.
You knot her without even thinking as you unravel together, and the two of you soak in your euphoria for a few moments before speaking.
“Thank you,” you quietly say.
“I think I should be thanking you,” she scoffs. “What do you have to thank me for?”
“For letting me have you like this. For trusting me. For loving me and understanding me. Everything, I have everything to thank you for,” you explain.
“You’re gonna make me cry,” Ellie grumbles. But she holds your hands in hers like she did almost the entire time you were fucking her into the mattress. “I… I wanna be on top.”
“Um… With proper prep that could definitely work, but we’re a bit stuck at the moment,” you explain.
“Good to know, but... I meant that I want to ride you,” Ellie reiterates.
“Oh. Uh, sure.” You two carefully readjust yourselves.
“I’ve always wondered what it felt like to be knotted,” she admits.
“Is it alright? I- I didn’t consciously do it, I’m sorry for not asking.”
“It’s not a big deal, you’re wearing an alpha condom, plus I’m on birth control so…” She looks at you for a few beats of silence before smiling. “It feels great. It’s… It’s nice, being connected like this.”
It’s a bit awkward, all of it, but it’s... New. Different. Perfect. It’s her.
Ellie rocks back and forth a little, figuring out what works best for her and confirming that it’s comfortable for you before continuing.
Lower, drawn-out moans drip from her lips like syrup as she unintentionally edges you, working up to that perfect peak over and over before switching up the pace or pressure or angle and sending you right back to the start.
You grab Ellie’s hips and snarl. She did say she wanted to be broken, maybe she’s trying to urge you to do so.
She pauses, now fully noticing your flushed cheeks, your heaving chest, the need in your eyes. She nods.
You fuck up into her like she’s just your human fleshlight, hands grasping her hips bruisingly.
“So tight,” you groan through gritted teeth, thrusting up into her faster and harder until her needy whimpers, the way she moans your name, and the new, unique sensation of being inside a beta destroys and remakes you once again.
She’s shuddering too, you realize.
“Are you alright?”
She nods, looking spooked, and winded, of course.
“Are you sure?” you confirm.
She nods again.
“Just… I, um… I finished. Without touching my, um… My clit. Never had that happen before,” she reassures you, also stroking your ego.
“Glad to be of service,” you say with a smile, but your stomach growls. “I say I go get dinner after the knot deflates, ‘kay?”
“What about me?” Ellie wonders.
“I’m not just gonna let you walk after that, even if you could,” you argue. “I’ll bring it back here, to the d- To the ne- Here.”
“It can be our den. Our nest. Is that what you want?” Ellie offers. You nod, looking fretful.
“Just- Just right now, okay? I promise.”
“Babe, you know I want to be with you, right? I don’t just tolerate your instincts, they’re a part of you, I love them as much as I do the rest of you,” she insists, readjusting herself so that she’s laying on top of you instead of straddling you, knot still locked in.
“But you-“ She always teases you about them. Not just every now and then, every time you slip up like that until now, she’s made some remark.
“But what?” Ellie reaches up, stroking your cheek again. You don’t flinch this time, too blissed out.
“I just- Most jokes have a hint of truth to them… So when it feels like you constantly tease me for being an alpha, especially the inconvenience of it…”
“Oh, jeez, I’m- I’m sorry, I... I really am a fucking idiot.”
“You’re not. I shouldn’t have said that,” you disagree.
“I shouldn’t have been making you feel so bad about yourself,” she insists, giving you a kiss, and then another. You deepen it, your nails digging into her back. “Fuck, babe…”
“Thank you…” you drawl, giggling with pride shortly after. You sigh. “I think, uh, I think we can probably part ways now. If you want.”
“Not yet,” Ellie quickly says, pleasantly surprising you. You hold her tighter. “Hey, uh… So… I- Could we- I mean, you- I- We’ve been together a while, and I was just wondering, is it customary for… Ugh, never mind.”
“Sweetness?” you question, concerned.
There’s a decent bit of silence. You can’t see her face, but you can guess the expression: pressed lips, slightly raised eyebrows, the works.
“Would you ever… Want to bite me?”
“I just did, like, a lot,” you say.
“No, I mean-! I mean, like bite me,” she clarifies.
“Oh. Well, I mean, I guess. It wouldn’t have much use, ‘cause the only benefits are scent-related, and I already crave your scent when I’m stressed, and you don’t know what I smell like. We would just be… Clingier to each other than we already are,” you explain.
Her face falls.
“Well, I wouldn’t mind you being a little needier… And it sure would piss off those stupid omegas you were telling me about. Obviously, I want to claim you, you’re mine, but… I just want you to be aware of what it means, how it’ll affect you,” you add to what she probably received as rejection of the idea. “Do you still want this?”
“I do,” Ellie consents. You cradle the back of her head in one hand, tilting it to the side to better access her neck—and therefore her scent gland. You gently kiss the skin first, building up to the bite like you’re trying to create another hickey.
Eventually, though, you sink your teeth in. Ellie tenses up, clinging to you and giving a soft whine of pain before relaxing and just letting it happen. You lick up the blood just a little before realizing you’re just going to have to give up and let it bleed for a bit. You can tend to it later.
“Thank you,” she says, so quietly. “For everything.”
“You’re gonna make me cry,” you echo what she said earlier. You slip her off of you, letting your arousal fade and carefully tucking your member back in after tying off the condom and throwing it away.
“You know, I hadn’t really thought about what that might look like,” Ellie confesses, looking bewildered. You just laugh, and while she blushes, she laughs with you.
“You’re so beautiful,” you tell her. You truly feel like you have to touch her to prove that she’s real. She’s so perfect, you’re so perfect together.
The need for dinner feels a lot more…primal. Like an instinct to care for your mate, especially now that you can feel her hunger simmering in the edges of your mind. You don’t want to leave her, but you also desperately need to take care of her.
She can tell that you’re torn.
“What is it?”
“Food. I-“ You sigh, frustrated. “I wanna stay with you, but I need to get you some food.”
Her expression was already softened, at least compared to the expressions she makes outside of this room you share… This den, you think with glee. But, now it’s even gentler.
“Well, I am pretty hungry… So, why don’t you get us some food, and then we can eat it in here. I think they had pizza for dinner, just get me a couple slices of-“
“The vegan thin crust, I know,” you cut her off. You now have a mission. You give her a long smooch on the forehead before getting up and getting dressed, reapplying your deodorant and some perfume or cologne, if you desire. “Love you.”
“You too,” Ellie calls as you close the door, making your way to the kitchen.
The pizza’s been put up for a while, so you decide you’ll reheat it in the oven, instead of the microwave. You get two pans out, if your pizza choice isn’t vegan, and you go ahead and spray them with cooking spray while you wait for the oven to preheat. You carefully place the slices on each baking sheet.
You don’t want to leave the oven unattended, so you instead reflect on everything that just happened, pride bubbling up in your chest.
You love her so much it hurts.
The oven heats up quickly, so you set the pans inside and put a timer on your phone so can go check on Ellie. You make your way to the stairs, but when you get to the foyer, you realize Ellie’s there, along with a red-suited man.
You resist the urge to approach, knowing it’ll only embarrass and irritate her if you go all cuckoo alpha mode on her in front of someone. She gets a little closer to him, and he hands her a present that’s wrapped… Exquisitely, at least in comparison to your present-wrapping skills.
But his entire posture changes the second he sees you observing.
You decide then to waltz on over, curious about the strange character.
“Who’s this, babe?” you wonder, wrapping an arm around her.
“Oh, this is Deadpool. Just bringing by a horrifically late Hanukkah present.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Deadpool.”
“We’ve met before,” he says softly.
“We have? Shit, sorry, I’m better with faces than names, and yours is covered up, so…”
“It was a long time ago,” he nearly mumbles.
“Okay,” you chirp, not sure how else to respond. “You hungry? I’m reheating some leftover pizza. In case you couldn’t tell, we kind of missed dinner.”
“Y/N!” Ellie protests, turning completely red.
“You know he can smell it on you, right?” you chuckle, before whispering to her: “And I bet you’re walking funny.”
Ellie stammers. Apparently, she didn’t know.
“You two make an adorable couple,” he says, but he sounds sad. Maybe he’s missing his own lover, his scent radiates loss. “I, uh… I don’t think you’d be offering me pizza if you realized who I was.”
“Oh, please, murder isn’t a big deal, even if Ellie and the other hall monitors have a problem with it.”
“You’re gonna have to take Remedial Ethics again if anybody hears you say that,” Ellie chides you.
“They can’t make me, I’ve already graduated. Besides, taking that class so many times gave me a shit ton of extra credits and a sexy little 4.2 GPA,” you snicker. “Yo, DP, if they ever try and get you to take it, just pick the answers that seem like the least amount of fun. Easy peasy.”
“Wow,” Deadpool scoffs, before turning somber once more. “It was nice meeting you again, Y/N.”
“You, too,” you reply, and he’s on his not-so-merry way. “What’s up with him? Isn’t he supposed to be all goofy and vulgar?”
“I don’t know, he’s a pretty moody guy.”
“Huh.” The alarm on your phone goes off, and you help Ellie hobble along to the kitchen.
After letting it cool, you two decide to eat right there, rinsing off the pans before putting them in the empty dishwasher.
Despite her protests, you carry her up the stairs, plopping her in bed before ditching your pants and joining her. She loses her own.
“Round two?” you tease.
“My vagina hurts,” she grumbles.
“Really? I’m sorry, I tried to be careful.“
“No, not like that, you were good. Too good, gave me the pounding of my life,” she reiterates.
“Oh… Thanks.”
“Don’t pretend you’re surprised, those omegas don’t just like you for your wit. You have a reputation.”
“So, they do like me for my wit,” you remark.
“Shut up,” she scoffs at the double entendres. “I love you.”
“I love you, too. You were perfect. I mean, even if you weren’t, you would be, but… That was amazing.”
“You’re too much,” Ellie mumbles, blushing. You kiss her, but she’s the one to intensify it. “...Okay, maybe round two.”
“You gotta teach me how to do that.”
“Do what?” Ellie asks, and she does it again.
“That!” you emphasize.
“What?!”
“Raise one eyebrow!”
“Oh. I don’t do it consciously,” she says. Of course she doesn’t. She’s just perfect.
“Fuck you,” you tell her instead.
“Fuck you.” But she laughs.
“Like, now?” you retort.
“Shut up.” She snuggles you closer. “Can I hold you, now?”
“I guess…” you pretend to complain, and you quickly find your face buried in Ellie’s chest, one arm curled between your bodies and the other around her.
“Ah, my best friends,” you joke, nuzzling.
“You fucking bastard,” she chuckles.
“Just because it’s true, doesn’t mean you should say it,” you sing-song. But the word doesn’t sting when she says it. It’s a term of endearment, now.
“We should probably go to sleep,” Ellie says, upon glancing at her phone.
“Probably,” you admit. “I love you so much.”
“You’re so fucking gay,” she huffs, grinning.
“Really? What clued you in? Is it the way I dress? Or maybe it’s the way I fucked you into the mattress an hour ago…” You play at pensivity, and Ellie, Ellie giggles, rolling her eyes.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
#negasonic teenage lesbian#negasonic x reader#negasonicteenageimagines#negasonic teenage warhead imagine#negasonic teenage warhead#ellie phimister#x-men#negasonic teenage warhead x reader#ellie phimister x reader#ellie phimister imagine#a/b/o#alpha!reader#sapphic x reader#sapphic fanfic#wlw x reader#wlw imagine
89 notes
·
View notes
Text
Stay Strong, Alex - Part 3
Part 1
Part 2
"Detective (L/n)," Rick sneers. "And they say there's never a cop around when you need one."
"So you know me?" (Y/n) asks, her voice soft.
"Of course," Rick answers. "I took a whole year planning this. Watching Alex, preparing," (Y/n) folds her hands together and she can hear Kara pacing behind her near the door. "I know everything."
"How did you know I was Supergirl?" Kara snarks.
"That day at the beach," Rick replies. "Before you started wearing glasses." He pauses. "I had no idea that Alex would end up playing for the other team, so to speak." (Y/n) swallows thickly. "I was just happy she showed up on the date. And then there was a crash. And Alex's kid sister walked away without a scratch," Rick says calmly, looking up at Kara, who standing over (Y/n)'s shoulder. "People at school said it was adrenaline, but, uh . . ."
"But you didn't believe that," (Y/n) finishes, her head tilting a little.
Rick nods, "I saw Kara Danvers do something amazing. And it stayed with me. I knew Kara was living in National City, and then Supergirl showed up in National City . . ." Rick chuckles. "I put two and two together. I knew it was you."
"What happened to you?" Kara asks softly. "I remember when Alex had chickenpox, I was eating lunch by myself," Kara's voice sounds a little wistful as she remembers the Earth portion of her childhood. "You came and sat with me."
Rick chuckles again. "I was fourteen," as Rick begins, (Y/n) rises from her chair to lean against the table. "And I didn't have the nice house or the perfect family that you and your sister had."
"You think we had it easy?" Kara asks skeptically. "You have no idea what Alex sacrificed for me. Or what I was going through!"
"Why?" Rick sneers. "Because you had to hide your superpowers? I was hiding bruises!" Rick is yelling now and (Y/n) had taken half a step backward. "Do you have any idea what it's like to have your mother tell you your garbage every single night?" The blonde man makes eye contact with (Y/n) and the young woman crosses her arms. "A belt whenever you had the wrong opinion? And then I found a lifeline. A father my mom kept from me. And he saved me from her and he moved me away from Midvale. And even though he was always struggling, he always made sure there was food on the table and he got me enough money to go to college. And then three years ago, the state took him from me."
"Your father killed two people," (Y/n) says, her voice low. "He confessed."
"They had it coming," Rick growls and (Y/n) straightens, her arms still folded over her chest. "And now I'm going to rescue him like he rescued me." Rick pauses. "I can't believe we're still talking about me! You have twenty-four hours and eleven minutes." Kara stiffens as Rick continues, "Come on, Kara, show us some of that rah-rah Midvale Junior High Spirit." Rick is yelling now. "Free my dad! Or your sister dies."
Kara growls, zooms over, flips the table, and pins Rick to the wall.
"Oh, you use half this much gusto in springing my dad, you'll have your sister back for game night."
"Kara! We're done here!" (Y/n)'s voice cracks.
Kara lets go of Rick and the man drops to the ground. "Hey. You know what'll be fun?" Rick asks. (Y/n) frowns, an eyebrow raising as she steps back from the man. "Finding out which one of you loves her more." (Y/n) closes her eyes momentarily, a wave of anguish washing over her. "Honestly, I wouldn't know where to place my bet," Rick sneers and (Y/n) swallows thickly.
Kara frowns at the man and after a minute, the two women go to leave the room, (Y/n) pausing for a second.
"Go Stallions," Rick grins.
Just outside the room, Kara speaks, "I'm giving him one minute, then I'm going back in there."
"No," (Y/n) says and Kara turns to look at her, Kara's eyes blazing.
"Why?" Kara snaps.
"Let him sweat it for a while," (Y/n) tells her, her voice softer than usual as she talks to her girlfriend's sister. "We got what we wanted."
"What?" Kara asks. "All we know is how he knows my identity."
"We know that Rick's pinned his whole sense of self-worth on Peter Thompson," (Y/n) explains, her voice still soft. "Thompson is the key to getting Alex back."
Kara's blazing eyes seem to extinguish as she considers (Y/n)'s words.
. . .
An hour or so later, (Y/n) and Peter Thompson walk into Rick's integration room.
(Y/n) closes the door behind Thompson.
Rick grins down at the table, before standing up after a moment.
"Ricky," Thompson says with a smile.
"Dad," Rick says, and the two embrace.
"All that time in prison, I imagined a day when . . . I could talk to you without a pane of glass between us."
"The DEO moved heaven and Earth to free this man," (Y/n) says. "We did what you wanted. Now, tell us where Alex is."
"No. No, not until my father and I are far from here," Rick says.
"You think we're stupid?" (Y/n) asks. "I showed you mine. Your turn."
"So you can toss us in Gitmo?" Thompson asks. "Not gonna happen."
(Y/n) shakes her head in disbelief.
"Maybe he gives you a piece. A little token of goodwill," Thompson adds. "You gotta give them something, Ricky. That's how it works. Just tell them where she is." Thompson narrows his eyes at his son.
"Well, you really nailed his essence, I'll give you that," Rick says.
"What?" (Y/n) asks, stepping forward, her arms crossing.
"I mean, that thing . . ." Rick says, studying his father's face. "He couldn't decide whether to hug me or not. That's vintage Dad." Rick sits back down in his metal chair.
"What are you talking about?" Thompson asks, walking up to stand beside the table.
"My father would never be playing these games. He'd be wanting to get the hell away from here and making sure that he never went back to prison," Rick's expression is one of anger. "I've been planning this for a year. Do you really think I didn't prepare for you," Rick pauses, looking up at Thompson, "Martian?"
Thompson walks over to (Y/n) and shifts back into himself.
"You're down to twenty-three hours and fourteen minutes," Rick says as he gazes at (Y/n) and J'oon. "And counting."
(Y/n) closes her eyes, pressing her index finger and thumb to the bridge of her nose.
. . .
Winn runs down the hall. "Guys! We found Alex. I found her."
Kara - who is standing with Mon-el - turns to face Winn. "You did?" Kara asks frantically.
"We got a ping from her subdermal tracker," Winn explains. "She's not far!"
. . .
Back in the interrogation room, (Y/n) is sitting across from Rick, her hands folded and resting on the table in front of her.
"(Y/n)," Kara says, opening the door to the room. "Winn found Alex."
"What? How?" (Y/n) asks quickly, rising from her chair to look at Kara.
"I guess you underestimated my sister," Kara says, looking past (Y/n) to look at Rick. "Let's go."
But (Y/n) pauses, turning to look at Rick. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."
"You're delusional," Kara sneers. "And the second we get back here with Alex, you're going to prison with your dad."
"Don't say I didn't warn you," Rick says with a shrug, and fear surges through (Y/n)'s heart.
Kara strides out of the room and (Y/n) meets Rick's eyes, holding the stare for a moment.
(Y/n) runs out of the room. "Watch him," (Y/n) tells the guard as she runs past him after Kara. "Hey, stop," (Y/n) tells Kara. "Malverne still thinks he's in control," (Y/n) tells her.
Kara turns, looking highly annoyed with (Y/n) at this point.
"He's not acting like someone who just lost," (Y/n) continues. "He didn't even flinch. It's like he expected this."
"No, no, no, we are not listening to that psycho," Kara says, walking closer to (Y/n). "Every minute we wait for matters."
"I - I want to get her as badly as you do," (Y/n) retorts, "but we can't punch our way out of this. We've got to get this right."
"If the shoe were on the other foot, Alex would already be out the door. I'm not waiting," Kara argues.
"You're not the only one who cares about her!" (Y/n) says, her voice rising.
"I'm going!" Kara yells over her shoulder as she strides out of the DEO.
(Y/n) swallows thickly and looks at the ground.
. . .
Kara flies across the city and lands in a warehouse, crashing through the roof.
"Kara!" comes a faint voice.
"Alex!" Kara yells in reply.
"I'm down here!"
Kara runs over to a metal plate on the floor and bends the metal, puling up the plate. Throwing the plate aside, Kara freezes, reading the writing on the wall: 'NOW YOU HAVE FOUR.'
"Four?" Kara asks. "What . . ." There is a rapid beeping and the timer next to the computer screen flashes to four hours.
. . .
In Alex's cell, water begins rushing into the cement cage. Alex, panicking, grabs her jacket to try to plug the pipe.
. . .
"Oh, my God," Kara whispers, her voice full of fury.
. . .
Kara walks back into the DEOs' headquarters, holding the laptop in one hand.
Entering Rick's room again, Kara sets the laptop on the table.
"Where is she?" Kara asks, her voice steely.
"I told you not to go . . ." Rick says calmly.
"Tell me where she is now!" Kara thunders, slamming her hands down on the table.
"I gave you thirty-six hours to break my father out of prison," Rick replies. "But you didn't listen. So now, that room is gonna fill up with water in less than four hours. I think it's time you got moving."
Kara's lip quivers. "Let me talk to Alex."
Rick leans forward and presses a few of the keys and there is a beep.
Kara turns the laptop around and leans down to talk to her sister through the computer.
"Alex," Kara says, her voice quavering.
"Kara! I sent out a signal, I thought you were coming," Alex says, the water up to her waist now.
"He re-routed the IP address. He sent us somewhere else. Do you have any idea where you are?"
"I was unconscious. I could be hours away or I could be in the city," Alex replies, a frown spreading across her face. "I don't know."
Rick leans forward. "Alex, it's Rick. It don't want to hurt you. I keep on telling your sister that. Tell her to get my father, and this can all be over. You can come home and get dry."
"No. Kara, no," Alex says, pointing at the camera. "You do not give that terrorist what he wants. You cannot let yourself be blackmailed. You cannot open yourself up to that, ever. Do you understand me? Supergirl is better than me."
(Y/n) enters the room and, seeing Alex on the screen, runs over. "Alex!"
"(Y/n)?" Alex asks.
"I'm right here," (Y/n) replies.
"(Y/n), I need to speak to you alone," Alex says, and (Y/n) grabs the laptop and walks out of the room.
(Y/n) stands down one of the hallways. "Hun, everyone here is working hard and we're going to find you."
"The water is rising fast and there are things that I need to say," Alex says, her voice cracking a little.
"No," (Y/n) says, tears welling up in her eyes. "Don't start talking like this is the end."
"I don't want it to be, but in case that it is . . ." Alex says, pausing for a moment.
"It's not," (Y/n) whispers. "It can't be. You're a badass, Alex. And if anyone could figure out a way to get themself out of there, it's you. You're gonna hold on until I find you," (Y/n)'s voice cracks, and a tear slides down her cheek.
"(Y/n), listen to me, please," Alex tries to get out.
"No," (Y/n) argues desperately. "We just had our first Valentine's Day and I want to do more with you. I want more firsts. I want a first vacation. We haven't even argued about where we're gonna go yet, and it's bound to happen. Or what to name our first dog. Do you want to get a dog?"
(Y/n) lets out a watery laugh. "See, there's a lifetime of firsts that we're going to do together. So," (Y/n)'s voice quavers, "you hold on, okay? Hold on until I get to you. You promise. Promise me!"
"Yeah, um . . ." Alex pauses, scratching the back of her neck. "Let's name her Gertrude or we could adopt one from the animal shelter you volunteer at."
"I -" Alex tries to say, but the video cuts out.
"What?" (Y/n) whispers, typing furiously on the keyboard. "Alex!" (Y/n), frustrated with worry, tosses the broken laptop to the ground.
"What happened?" Kara asked, striding over to (Y/n).
(Y/n) meets Kara's gaze, her eyes alight with barely controlled anger. "I-I told you not to rush in. N-now you've made things worse."
"I did what I thought was right . . ." Kara argues.
"I should have been heard," (Y/n) says, her eyes narrowing. "I should have been listened to. I'm her girlfriend."
"I'm her sister!" Kara argues angrily.
"And you think that trumps me?" (Y/n) asks. "That you know what's right for her. I . . ." (Y/n) falters. "I got her to be herself, Kara." (Y/n)'s voice cracks. "I-I have just as much to lose as you." (Y/n)'s eyes burn. "You should have listened to me."
Word Count: 2,305 words
Taglist:
@procrastinatingsapphictrash
@makegoodchoices
@fanboy7794
@theofficialzivadavid
@confusinggemini612
#alex danvers x reader#alex danvers x fem reader#supergirl x reader#supergirl x fem reader#reader insert#fem reader#female reader
77 notes
·
View notes
Text
see, it's not like steve's ever been good at coping.
it's bad after starcourt, but instead of dealing with it then steve just puts everything into healing others. he comforts eleven, stays on the phone all night with lucas or dustin, helps will learn not to fear the cold, gives billy a shoulder to cry on and a place to live.
and so billy gets a front-row seat to steve's self-destruction.
he doesn't think it's his place to speak, initially, but he does worry when steve leaves early in the afternoon and comes back wasted, bruises on his throat and traces of powder on his clothes. some weekends he doesn't come home, he goes to indianapolis and shows up late sunday evening with a massive hangover and billy just gets him to eat and drink a little before getting him in bed. steve's not eating enough, he's losing weight and billy worries because this is his best friend, not even heather matches their level. and steve's done so much good for him but he doesn't know how to return the favor - not until steve barrels out of the bathroom one night shaking like a leaf, tears streaming down his face. billy takes one look inside, catches sight of two life-changing sticks, and rushes out after him.
and it's then, when he finds steve out by the quarry in a panic, that he knows how to help.
"i didn't mean to get pregnant," steve sniffles, and the moment billy crouches next to him the brunette is shuffling closer, scared and in need of comfort. and billy's still working on the physical thing, learning it's okay to be affectionate, but he doesn't hesitate to hold steve as close as he can.
"i know," he murmurs. "it's okay. we'll figure it out. you aren't doing this alone, you hear me?" and initially billy thinks he's fucked up because steve starts crying again, but when this round of sobs passes the other boy gives him a shaky smile.
"you promise?"
"cross my heart and all that shit." and that's just it. whatever steve needs, billy's got him.
steve initially doesn't want to go through with it, but decides ultimately it could be a good thing. he's thought about parenthood before, always wondered if he could be a better father than his own. this is a chance to prove it. and billy gives him all the support in the world. nobody messes with the only child of the harrington family, they can't afford the fallout, but he's always gotten dirty looks after coming out and they get worse now that he's pregnant. but billy follows him everywhere now amd anyone who gives him a look has to face the blonde's anger. and sure, he's not where he once was. he's still putting on muscle and learning to use his hands again, but half of what makes billy hargrove scary is the way he presents himself, the glare that suggests he knows people won't mess with him. and they don't, amd they don't mess with steve either for the same reason.
and when billy isn't around to do the protecting, steve's got others. joyce has kicked people out of melvad's before, for harassing a fifteen year-old steve. and five years later she still does it, voice calm and eyes steely. claudia is at every appointment he has, making sure the other nurses and doctors call him by the right name and pronouns. she's there when steve sees the baby's hand for the first time and has a breakdown because he's growing a whole person and doesn't know if he'll really be able to take care of them.
and claudia, she remembers being confused and a little judgemental when steve came out as steve, but that was before she caught him shuffling down the aisles of the library one day, small and clearly anxious about everyone he came across. thirteen year-old steve had lacked the easy confidence he sported now, and it was when she saw him that it sort of clicked. she didn't understand how someone could be a gender other than the one they were born as, but she made a point to greet him as steve any time she saw him and made an effort to accept him. now he's like the older son she never had, dustin's big brother, and when he weeps frantically over the daunting trial of parenthood she takes him by the shoulders and gives him the most serious look she can muster.
"nobody is ever ready for parenthood," she tells him, and one hand comes to wipe his tears away. "but you have exactly the heart for this job. you're going to be the best father in this whole town."
which steve doesn't agree with. the best dad in town is hopper.
hopper, who's been harassing people for harassing steve for years, but is more aggressive about it now because steve really means something to him now. sometimes, eleven calls him her brother, and hop figures, yeah, the kid could use a dad. so he makes a habit of checking up on him, and it gets more frequent now because he's also checking on billy, and with a baby on the way hopper's protectiveness is at an all-time high. nobody wants to fuck with the chief, so no one fucks with steve.
when the harringtons find out, steve's dad is livid, but it's steve's mother who keeps him from lashing out. the couple can't stand the blow to their social life and so it's off to lansing for them, a fresh start or whatever. the house stays under their name, though, and steve and billy make it theirs. the cosy master bedroom becomes steve's, billy finally decorates the guest room downstairs as his own. his mother calls sort of regularly, she's not thrilled about the situation but she's eager for a grandbaby to spoil, and steve counts that as a blessing.
of course, the party freaks out when steve announces his pregnancy. it's not like they didn't know steve could get pregnant, but they've never considered the idea that he would. eleven, max, and will are immediately thrilled, discussing baby names and wanting to pat his belly - especially el, who's never really experienced a pregnancy. mike and lucas are a little weirded out, but mike brings steve a bunch of baby books left over from holly and lucas donates his own old toys, declaring that baby harrington was going to be the coolest baby ever if he got to help look out for the little one. dustin doesn't know how to feel initially, which stresses steve out, but when someone throws a slur at steve three weeks after that dustin flips out, yells himself hoarse at the fucker, and declares himself steve and the baby's most ardent protector. the whole group has already discussed babysitting schedules and, yeah, maybe steve did cry about it, but he's pregnant and it was probably the hormones and not anything else, thank you.
robin gently berates him about sleeping with strangers out of town when she finds out, but after that she takes her position as aunt very seriously. within four weeks she buys three outfits, five stuffed animals, and a french record to help the baby learn the language.
"no such thing as too early," she says as she drops it on the dresser in steve's old room. the new nursery.
it's a labor of love, mostly by billy. woodworking is a big help with his hands so he was all too happy to make a crib himself. again, steve cried, but this time he feels it's justified. billy's put a rocking chair in too, and a record player too - "your taste in music is shit," he'd deadpanned as he brought the thing in. "someone's gotta culture the little snot." amd billy does that all the time, he's called the baby a snot, a turd, a little shit, all that jazz. but his face is softer than it's ever been and that makes steve smile every single time.
steve's labor of love starts five weeks early, much to his horror, and it hurts like a bitch. he gives birth early in the morning after a rainy night. she's a little replica of steve, down to the moles on her cheek, and he doesn't think he's ever known love until he looks at his daughter and feels the almost painful swell in his chest. he cries as he hugs her against his chest and swears on his life he'll do right by this wondrous little girl. her name is nikita - no, not after the elton john song, though later when she asks that's what he tells her, just so she can throw her head back and groan, "daaad!"
no, she's named after his grandmother. and she gets rosaline for a middle name after billy's mother. because, even if they didn't say it, it's clear billy intends to co-parent. he doesn't call it that, he just says he's helping a friend, but he's the one who changes her diaper at night and bounces her to sleep listening to metallica and teaches her to eat spaghetti.
and originally, he's the one she calls dad.
first it's baba, which steve thinks is in reference to the fact that billy bottlefeeds her, and billy thinks it's similar enough to "billy" to not be anything more than that. but she gets older and learns to say billy and steve, and still calls him baba. baba and papa. and to the outside world it makes sense, they're a little family, steve and billy ooze a chemistry anyone else can't deny. but it takes them three extra years to get with the program and become a couple.
to this day, niki claims there aren't more clueless people out than her dads when it comes to love.
#steebie writes#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things au#steve harrington#billy hargrove#harringrove#i'll come up with a name for this au later but y'all should ask me about it
112 notes
·
View notes
Text
It’s Nothing Serious - Chapter 5.5
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
A./N: 18+ as always.
This took a while to write but may be my favorite so far.
------------
Here’s the thing about Eloise: she’s surprising.
That first morning when they met, he had expected her to look away and shuffle out of the lobby, leaving him and Gabby to the post-coital pleasantries. The old woman who lived there before would always cross herself and look down when she saw him with one of his women in the mornings. Her, though- looks him straight in the eye and says good morning, with his name he didn’t tell her, then waltzes out with a smile on her face like she just put him in his place. Maybe she did.
Then she’s there, again, after he gets a bullshit call from the office to come in. He almost doesn’t notice her, he’s so focused on getting a cigarette to calm him down. He’s got a curse ready when he realises his lighter is out of fluid and it’s the only fucking one he has, but then there’s a voice.
“Need a light?”
He looks over and it’s the same woman from the morning. She’s cute. Big eyes, long eyelashes like one of those dolls his cousins had as kids. The pencil skirt she’s got on is tight, tight enough he can’t help but wonder where she keeps the lighter she extends out to him.
“Thanks,” he tells her. She waves him off, swinging the small purse from her opposite side to drop the lighter in. They stand there for a moment in the silence before he decides he owes her a formal introduction.
And she gets him again.
“My moms the author.”
“What?”
“I’m fucking with you.”
It makes him smile.
He wakes up earlier the next morning. Then the next. Then the next until it’s a routine. Usually, he’s not in the office until 9, but now that he knows there’s someone next door, he’s noticing more, like the sound of feet scuffling on carpet in a hurry and the squeak of a wardrobe swinging open. And once he starts to hear them, he can’t tune them out. It makes him anxious, listening to someone bustle around him as he lays doing nothing. He doesn’t like being unprepared.
So he starts to get up earlier. Which means he leaves earlier. Which starts to mean he runs into her. When he starts to get shit at the office for it - look who’s here, what, the brothel stopped offering continental breakfast? - he tries to sleep in again. He’s determined to, but he can’t. Hearing someone so close busy themselves around him while he just lies down drives him crazy.
So, he gets ready early now.
The coffee shop on the way to work is happy for the new business.
—————
He only stood outside smoking that first time because of the smell. He had left something in his fridge too long and the power cut off while he was at work, and now the whole apartment smelled rotten. He has tried smoking inside, fill the air with smoke, but it only made him sick. He decided he’d smoke outside until he’s numbed his senses. He doesn’t smoke outside to run into her. It’s just what happens.
The second day the apartment still smells. The third day, too. That’s when she joined him for the first time, siding up beside him like they had been meeting there for years. After that, if he discovers that if he doesn’t have at least one cigarette outside, it’s all he can smell when he walks in.
So, he smokes outside now. With her.
Her and her little questions.
He doesn’t mind them. Not at first. Not if it was just small talk. But she takes his answers and runs with them. He’s not just from Laredo, he’s from the part of Laredo she knows because she visited once when she was 11 and she remembers Señora Garza’s discoloured hands as they made sandwiches in his corner’s BBQ stop and is she still alive? Does he miss the food? She misses the food in El Paso. Had he ever been? She doesn’t blame him. It’s a long drive.
What’s annoys him is that he answers each one. What annoys him more is that he catches himself asking her questions too. What annoys him the most is that he thinks about her answers even after she’s snubbed her cigarette and gone inside.
So, he gets up earlier, because he can’t stand the sound of her getting ready around him. He smokes with her, because if he doesn’t smell the night air and her perfume and the smoke all he can smell for the rest of the evening is his fridge. Now he’s a guy who asks stupid questions, who listens and laughs at work stories. He’s still working out the ‘because’ for that one. He thinks it has something to do with the pencil skirts. Hopes it does, anyway.
———————
He just needs to fuck her.
That has to be it. He just needs it out of his system. Not the best circumstances, considering she’s his neighbor, but he’s lived with worse before. It would be worth it for the extra sleep and the money he’d save on coffee and cigarettes. For the self respect he’d regain once he stopped lingering outside around 5:30 every evening to smoke (also the time when she’s usually turning down the street, coming back from work).
And she is cute.
So that Friday, when she’s walking up the stairs - in another fucking tight pencil skirt - he’s ready with an invitation. And it goes much better than he thought. He’s a pretty confident guy, but even he has to admit having a pretty woman tell him she’s masturbated to him, all while her cheeks have a rosy flush and she’s so endearingly embarrassed yet daring, yeah, it makes his face flush. It also makes him realise maybe she needs this out of her system just as badly as he does.
So he gets them another drink. He inches his fingers up under the hem of her skirt. And when she asks if he’ll walk her home, his hand is only a little clammy when when he reaches out and takes hers, leading her through the bar and out into the night.
The sex is good. Really good, if he’s honest. But most first time fucks are, aren’t they? Well, first time, second time, and third time, in this case - like he’s back in fucking college. He blames the drink. He blames the pencil skirts. He blames the way she teases him in turn and the bites she leaves on his neck after he calls her baby.
Before she leaves she makes him promise it’s not going to be weird, that she’d miss their smoking sessions, that they’ll be friends.
He thinks back to all his friendships with women. Despite that, he tells her yes.
Friends.
————-
He’s never been a particularly good friend, either.
Maybe that’s why when she comes out that Sunday afternoon, when his mind is still replaying the events from that night before, he snaps at her. Because she’s a fucking third grade teacher, and she’s sweet, and that pisses him off. Because her world is so far away from his. Because if she saw a kid get murdered, she could cry or scream and wouldn’t just have to press it down and just deal with it like he has to, because its just another part of his job. So when she comes out, her hair a mess and a big oversized sweater on her shoulders and those big eyes looking him up and down like he’s a real person and not the husk he feels like, he loses it.
Mind your own fucking business.
He stalks off, letting his feet lead him to the nearest brothel. He asks for Vanessa, and she takes him up to her room, but once his jeans are off and he realises he can’t. That in addition to feeling like shit about the night before, he now feels bad because he was so needlessly cruel. And even though Vanessa tries her hardest, and god, that girls hardest try is the best in the country, he pulls his limp dick from her mouth and pays her full price anyway, apologising as he fixes his jeans and leaves.
He tries to shower. He tries to jerk off. He tries to down a glass of whiskey, then two, then a half a pack of cigarettes. But when he’s not thinking about how he’s a monster for the night before, he’s thinking he’s a dick for that afternoon. It gets to be too much. Maybe because of the drink or the guilt or just old fashioned masochism, he’s at Eloise’s door. When she stands before him, her arms crossed and waiting, biting back at him with his own words - mostly just minding my own fucking business - he nearly falls into a pathetic string of apologies there. I’m sorry. You’re good, I’m bad. I shouldn’t have bothered you. You deserve better friends.
But then she lets him come inside. She lets him be a sad sack on her couch. And when he tries to leave, to protect her from the bullshit that’s spinning around in his head, she reaches out and grabs his hand, telling him to stay. Because she’s there, and she’ll listen, or she won’t if that what he wants, and that’s what friends do.
Friends also, apparently, give you really good head, and let you work your anger and sadness and fear out by fucking them raw on their couch. Then, they let you fall apart to them, like a fucking kid, until they pull you against their warm body and press a soft kiss, much softer than you deserve, against your temple before lulling you into the best sleep you’ve had in months.
When he wakes up and sees her still under him, her hand still in his hair as she sleeps, he has to remind himself who he is before he does something stupid, like curl his body around her closer or pull the blanket around them tighter or stay and make her coffee. So he slips out of her hold, gets dressed, and spends the next thirty minutes outside her unlocked door, until he finally hears her stirring and knows she’ll be safe alone.
When Gabby comes over later, he makes up for the night before. Does his best to remind Eloise and himself who, exactly, he really is. Not soft. Not scared. And certainly, not a good friend.
——————
She doesn’t let him off that easy, and he’s too stupid to untangle himself. It would have been so simple to just keep walking through those doors when she called out to him, keeping his down and ignoring her. To be the asshole. But despite himself, he’s pulling his cigarettes out and standing beside her once again. He’s asking about her day at work, about the kids (whose names he remembers- he doesn’t even remember some of his cousins’ names). When she turns to head back inside - her leaving him! - she squeezes his shoulder as a way of goodbye. It’s friendly, something he’d do to a colleague, but it makes his chest light in a way not even two more cigarettes and a guilty conscience can weigh down.
...
He just needs to fuck her again.
Surely, that’s the problem here. It’s not that their talks have gotten longer, or that her perfume lingers in the hallway, or that she makes him laugh more than anyone has in a while. It’s all because she’s been leaving the second button on her blouses undone, and he can see the faint mark he left not even a week earlier. It’s because she keeps wearing those fucking skirts. And also, he is loathe to admit, she’s probably some of the best sex he’s had in a while.
So, he’s not expecting her to turn his invitation down. He’s especially not expecting her to look that good in that short black dress she’s wearing when she offers him a drink. The hour before her friends- her real friends - show up, his hands are itching as he watches her throat when she throws back drinks, or the v of skin that the fabric cuts over her breasts. He can already see her night ahead of her— bunch of empty headed lotharios pushing up against her, grinding on her on the dance floor, shouting offers for more drinks in her face. She’ll come home completely disillusioned and drunk, and really, it’s the friendly thing to do to offer her an out. Whatever she’s looking to find tonight is already next door.
Well. He thought.
When he pops his head out later that night, ready to generously extend his offer of companionship again, he’s not expecting to see some man- a fucking kid, even- pressing her up against her door, his tongue shoved down her throat. When she turns and sees them, he’s suddenly feels like a high school principal who just caught two teenagers making out at prom. She’s only a handful of years younger than him, but seeing her like this now, with some young, muscled hot heat sucking on her neck - you want a picture or something?- he’s never felt older.
So, like the old man he is, he tries to go to bed and sleep the humiliation off. Only, this time, he’s the one pulling a pillow over his ears to muffle the moans coming from the other side. Whoever Issac is, he must have a 12 inch dick or vibrating fingers or both, because he doesn’t think he’s ever heard a woman be this vocal. It only hurts his ego a little bit (a lot a bit) that he had her in a similar position just days earlier with a much less vocal response. By the time they start again, less than thirty minutes later (fucking twenty year olds) he’s throwing the covers off him and stalking to the dresser for his cigarettes, deciding a night on the couch would be better than having to lay there and listen to her breathy little moans or his ugly grunts. As he comes to stand in front of the mirror, however, he catches his reflection in the light and frowns when another, girly gasp permeates the wall. Despite himself, he wonders how much better Issac looks naked, how he’s probably got a good back and defined muscles and not the body of a middle aged smoker with bags under his eyes and a small but present belly. For a moment he allows himself to wallow in self pity. But when another breathy shriek breaks him out of his trance, he huffs and snatched the cigarettes from the dresser, marching towards his living room and away from the noise.
The next morning, when he catches her in her sundress (that he just knows she’s not wearing underwear beneath), he tries to mimic her cool demeanor from the previous week, when the tables were turned. There’s a look in her eye though, like she knows, a hunch that’s proved right when she saunters up to him and pulls the cigarette from his dumb speechless lips, taking a long drag and maintains eye contact with a smug little smile.
Oh Javi, it’s not serious .
When he’s jerking off on his couch ten minutes later, he imagines she and that sundress are on top of him, and what he does with his fingers turns that smug little smile into a breathy ‘o’.
—————————
More than anything, he’s pissed when he’s shot. The one time he didn’t wear the tactical vest and he gets clipped. He hates being fussed over, and Murphy’s being such a mother hen about it- he even calls his estranged wife and asks her to rattle off advice to his partner over the phone, like he hadn’t just spent an hour getting patched up. No drinking, no “rapid movements”, and you really should stop smoking.
He picks up a pack on the way home.
Murphy offers to stay with him, but the idea of having Steve hover over him is almost more off-putting than being shot again. So he sends his partner upstairs with his half of the take out - fucks sake, I’ll be fine- and goes into his dark little apartment. He shovels the luke-warm food in his mouth and sits in the silence and tries to think of anything else but the fact he’s been hearing music from next door, or how it’s already 8 pm on a Friday, and that if she’s home she probably doesn’t have plans, which means it would be really easy to knock on the wall and ask if she wants to share a drink he shouldn’t have. Her, a woman he shouldn’t be inviting over in the first place. Even if she is funny and biting and caring in a way that still makes him feel like he can breathe.
Without thinking, he’s by the wall, fist raised and ready to knock, before he stops himself.
There’s only one way this can go, given his track record, and she doesn’t deserve that. She’s sweet. She’s funny. And smart. Pretty. She could do a hell of a lot better on a Friday night that sit with him. If he were a good friend, he’d leave her alone and simmer by himself.
——————
“Isn’t that shirt supposed to be white?”
Javier has never been a particularly good friend.
——————
When she falls asleep on his arm, her legs kicked out under the coffee table covered in ash and alcohol, he’s still up. He lies awake and stares at the ceiling, too aware of the weight of her head against him to relax into sleep, lest the sudden movement wake her and she leaves- which right now, under the safety of booze and cigarettes and hours of laughing, he can admit to himself - would be the worst thing to happen today.
...Jesus, the way that sounds.
Maybe, if he weren’t so drunk, and if he hadn’t almost died, and if she hadn’t come over and asked him questions about his mom and made him laugh and tried for thirty minutes to convince him to buy an actual boat, he would be able to snap back to himself and think clearly.
But, right now, her head is on his arm, it’s dark outside, and Javier is warm.
——————
She tried to leave. She had done her friendly duty- deposited him in bed, forced him to drink water, made sure he hadn’t choked on his own vomit in the middle of the night. She was almost free of him, but then he just pulled her down beside him, like it was the most natural thing in the world. He wasn’t thinking. He should have just let her go, shouldn’t have invited her over in the first place.
He waited for her to push back against him. Payback, maybe, for sneaking out on her the last time. Or just common sense shining through. But instead she pulled the comforter over them both and threw a leg over his middle, cuddling into his shoulder.
Against his ear, she mumbled “These sheets better be washed.”
——————
He woke to sound of someone knocking on his door. Eloise had somehow flipped her body diagonally, the way all women seem to do when they’re deeply, deeply asleep. He rolled out, careful not to wake her, before heading to the living room and unlocking the door.
“Wow. You look like shit.”
Javi sighed. “What do you want?”
His partner held up a paper bag. “Took your bandages with me last night.”
He reached out and took the bag, giving him a nod. “Thanks,”
“You have a party?”
Javi looked over his shoulder to the mess of a coffee table.
“Allowed to celebrate cheating death, aren’t I?”
“Uh huh.” The other man nodded to the pair of jeans on the floor. El has discarded them the night before after declaring them “too restrictive” when she had insisted on showing him how to do - and failed to execute- a handstand. “House call?”
“Goodbye, Murphy,” he closed the door in his partners face, but not before hearing a muffled chuckle from outside. Stalking forward, he dropped the paper bag on the couch before picking up the bottle of pills and rattled them in his hand. He made back for the bedroom, thinking he could get away with sneaking a few while she was still out cold. He needn’t have worried, it turns out.
“Give me two.”
“These aren’t Tylenol, they’re real-“
“Javier. Shut the fuck up and give me two.”
He shut the fuck up and gave her two.
——————
“I don’t want to eat. I want to smoke and go back to bed.”
“You can smoke and eat. They did it in the 50’s all the time.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You’re supposed to eat with those pills, Javier.”
“I’ll eat later, give me the pack.”
“No. You’re having a piece of toast.”
“You’re not my godda-what the fuck are you doing? Turn off the burner—-DON’T-“
——————
Sucker.
A goddamn sucker.
Why else would he be pouring over a bunch of papers written by kids who could barely write?
Why else would he check so often if he was doing it right? Like this actually mattered? He started off giving most of them a lucky break, but when he saw how concentrated she looked, biting the end of her pen and circling words with a flourish, smiling to herself when she gave a check or drew a little happy face, he slowed down. Now he was thinking more about comma use than he had in his entire life.
It’s worth it, though, when she’s sat in between his knees, head bobbing up and down on him as she sucks him off. When she looks him in the eyes as she jerks him, smiling before licking up along the side, he almost comes embarrassingly early. He decides that he’d gladly spend two hours grading shitty sentences if it means he can watch you deep throat him every Sunday afternoon.
He won’t draw smiley faces though.
He had his limits.
——————
He’s not too sure what possessed him to kiss her like that. Sometimes after they’re done and she’s pulled her clothes back on, she’ll bend down to the bed and give him a peck. Other times she just leaves with a wave. Once she slapped his ass. He liked that goodbye quite a lot.
But this time, he’s reaching out and catching her lips in a kiss that’s much more than thanks for the fuck and the cigarettes, get home safe. Something in his body bypasses his brain, and it takes a lot of conscious willpower than it should to finally pull himself back, even more so when her mouth chases his.
Later, when he’s sober, he’ll explain it away as a thank you for the weekend. Or that he was still horny. Or a combination of both.
Either way-
“Get home safe.”
—————
So maybe that’s why he decides he should really be giving you rides to work. Safety.
That’s reasonable. That’s a friendly thing to do.
The dinners are harder to explain to himself. He tries to reason you’re both saving money on groceries this way. He read somewhere in one of those awful magazines that the embassy has on waiting tables, the kind that haven’t been updated in years, that food waste is a problem in America.
But saving the environment isn’t why he sticks around for fifteen minutes, thirty minutes, an hour after they’ve both finished your cigarettes. It’s not a bleeding heart for the whales that makes him hold his breath for her answer when he asks her to come in for a drink. It certainly has nothing to do with the urgency with which he bends her over his kitchen table, scattering the empty take out containers onto the floor, before hiking another fucking pencil skirt up over her hips. He wishes it explained it. Because then it would be easier to dismiss the way his hand begins to fall on her knee during the early morning commutes, or the way he can’t relax until he hears those three ridiculous knocks after she leaves him in his bed.
He chalks it back up to her safety and tries not to think any deeper than that.
——————
“Are you mad? ‘Baby?’”
There’s something incredibly sexy about a woman who can beat you at your own game. There’s also something very, very sexy about how her mouth pouts around the word, sardonic and mocking as her tone is.
He’s only got himself to blame. He made the first move by dismissing that 70s nightmare. She had walked past him that night at the bar multiple times, staring through him when he had waved. His rational side told him she was distracted by her girlfriends and the music and just didn’t see him, but the other side- the side he often found himself on when it came to women- was pissed. Maybe that’s why he picked up the first hot body that made eye contact with him, strategically leading her over to the bar where he could keep and eye on Eloise’s back- fuck, she did look good in a backless shirt- while keeping his new friend entertained. Just like he had wanted, one of her friends pointed him out to her, and she made for the bar minutes later. He was surprised when she struck up conversation with Miguel, Colombia’s answer to Sunny Bono if he’d ever seen one, and a little insulted, too, if he’s being honest. If she was going to try and make him jealous, she could have picked someone who didn’t look like his parody. So when - ah fuck, what was her name, Maria? Lourdes? Doesn’t matter - went to the restroom, he took the chance to intervene and ruin her little game.
What he didn’t expect was that she’d hit back harder.
“Are you mad? ‘Baby’?”
No. Not mad.
Impressed. Challenged. Uncomfortably hard against his jean’s zipper. But not mad.
But she likes being fucked rough, so he plays along. He grabs her by her hair, pushes her into her apartment, and takes her up against her door. When she’s just about to cum, he pulls out of her and tries not to laugh when she whips around with that crazed, angry look in her eye. It doesn’t take much (who is he kidding, he was never going to leave) before he’s got her bent over the sofa, pumping into the wettest, tightest cunt he may have ever felt in his life.
The most unforgivable thing, though, and the moment that played through his mind as he drove home the night he should have died, was how she deposited herself on his lap afterwards. How those slender fingers reached out and took his cigarette, like she always did, and smiled through the smoke down at him. Naked and confident and so fucking pretty.
“Baby,” she had called him, and it sent a jolt through his chest. “I would have asked which pharmacy you want me to pick your meds up from.”
When they were in her shower an hour later, inadvertently testing just how non-slip her bath mat really was, he replayed her voice in his head. Baby, baby, baby.
————————
He knew before he even stepped out of his car where he was going. And that scared him.
He wasn’t this guy. He had made sure of it. It was best for everyone. It made him good at his job. He saw fucked up shit, did fucked up shit, but he never made it anyone else’s problem who wasn’t already there beside him, watching and participating. He managed it with drinking and denial and never hanging a picture of his mother up, afraid to meet her eyes and recoil at what she would think of him, even though she was years dead. If it was really bad, he went to see one of his girls- they weren’t stupid, they wouldn’t ask questions, and he always tipped them for it.
He didn’t talk about it. He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to have his hand held or a shoulder to cry on because if he started now, he didn’t know if he could stop. And that meant he’d lose the hard shell that made him able to keep doing this goddamn job every single day, and that would mean everything he had done, all the fucked up decisions made for the greater good, whatever that meant anymore, would be for nothing.
But now, he’s standing in front of her door, hands shaking at his sides, trying to decide what he’s more afraid of: being alone or letting her see him like this. He had gone to her, maybe stupidly, after he saw the kid get shot, but that was different. That was an explanation for being a dick. This was seeking comfort. Intimacy. The antithesis of the system of drink fuck repress and repeat that had served him so well for the past ten years. He should have turned and walked to his apartment. He should have gone out the door to the nearest brothel and made a fool out of himself in front of some girl who saw this shit thirty times a day. He should have never started smoking to Eloise in the first place, because that led to talking and that led to sex and that led to the inconvenient, humiliating feeling that now filled his chest whenever he saw her or smelled her perfume and drove him to do stupid things like stand on her doorway at midnight ready to fall apart. If she was smart, she’d be asleep or ignore him. It’s what he deserves.
But he knocks.
And she comes running.
———————-
He doesn’t do tender. Not like this.
He doesn’t like to be taken care of. He’s the one who takes care of people, in his own messy, selfish, fucked up way. It makes him feel like he’s failing at the one thing he’s supposed to do - be the strong one, protect the innocent, whatever crap they peddled about his job. To be weak like this feels like admitting defeat, to admit that something finally got to him in a way he may not be able to bounce back from.
He’s ashamed when he walks in and pours himself out like he does. He’s even more ashamed that he couldn’t just deal with this on his own, and his first instinct had come to her and fuck up her night. It’s almost like he can see himself from across the room, and he wants to reach out at stop his dumb ass from falling apart so spectacularly like he does. She doesn’t deserve this, and it’s not her responsibility. He worries that by doing this, he’s wrecking the only safe harbour he’s got left in the country. She is fun and light and blow jobs and laughter and good tequila, and he’s poisoning what they have by being so disgustingly raw in front of her.
He waits for her to finally break and tell him it’s finally too much. That he’s a shithead cop who has done nothing but annoy her since they first met. That maybe he’s getting all that he deserves, at last, for all the awful things he’s done, and she rightly doesn’t have any sympathy for a man like him. This was fun, Javi, but I didn’t sign up for this.
But that’s the thing about Eloise. She’s surprising.
So when she reaches his hand out, he doesn’t quite believe her. She has to reach down and take it herself before he’s standing up and following her down the hall, not completely in control of his own body. He’s dumbstruck as she undresses him, so softly, like he’s something that could break underneath her help. It’s not until he’s pressed against her and she’s kissing the top of his head that he finally, finally lets go and lets himself believe that maybe he can have this, just for tonight.
So he pulls her closer, and he lets a sob rock through his body, and he tries not to cry when he feels her grip him tighter in response.
When he wakes up, he knows he should let her sleep. She’s got work tomorrow and he’s got to go back to the embassy with a straight face and determination to get back to work. He had his moment of weakness, and now he should leave her alone. Slip out of her hold and her apartment and, if he was a good man, out of her life all together.
Javier’s never been a particularly good man.
So he reaches for her and cups her cheek. When her eyes flutter open and she says his name, so soft and so full of concern, his chest expands.
He’s not good with words. Not the ones that matter. So he does what he is good at. He pulls her against him and kisses her and tries to treat her as gently as she treated him, like somehow if he could do this right, she’ll know. From the way she keeps her eyes on his as he pushes into her, he thinks she does.
He wishes he was better. He wishes he could just tell her these things during the day, when he’s thinking straight, not just when he’s emotionally cored out. She deserves someone who can use their words, who don’t need to be at their very bottom and most needy to realise something that’s been growing inside them all along. He hates that in the morning, he’s going to look back at this and cringe at just how intimate and vulnerable he let himself be around her, that he’s going to have to brick himself back up just so he can get back to doing his job. He wishes, pathetically, stupidly, that the entire world could just be this dark bedroom and the noises she’s making and the way she feels around him.
When it’s over, he falls against her, still entangled and unable to let go quite yet. He tells himself he’ll roll off her before he goes to sleep, because staying like this, surely, would be too much. But then he feels her fingers on his back, running up and down his spine as he lays against her, breathing in the faint smell of perfume that still lingers on her skin.
In the morning, he’ll have to deal with this. Have to decide what lie he’s most comfortable with telling himself. But for right now, he can admit this is what he wants.
Sometimes he can be pretty surprising, too.
--------
taglist: @fuckoffbard
55 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
krechz
krechz
cbdenice
Creations By deNice
itsn0ttrue
It's Not True.
jackfredo
Jackfredo
time-to-get-fired
Getting FIREd