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deathofafoureyedferret · 2 years

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My Scary Valentine

WARNING: Mentions of seizures, fluff, little bit of angst, lots of smut, polyamorous relationship, fingering, cunnilingus, jealousy. Don't like it don't read it. This isn't coming out no where near Valentines day and it wasn't part of the request, but I thought setting it during Valentines day.

Ship: Bayverse (2014/2016) boys x Chubby!Autistic!Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Request from @ceciliawastaken : Hey! Do you think you can write a chubby reader x the bayverse tmnt, maybe the reader has autism, I have autism btw, and I also have tics or seizures because of it, so I wanna know what the four would do if they caught the reader mid seizure, if that’s ok with you of course, I don’t want you uncomfortable. Maybe a girl reader and the reader is chubby and autistic at the same time. Do you think they can calm her down after, like have sex with her after her seizure 😩✋🏽I was thinking maybe it’s a poly relationship, were all of the turtles are dating the reader at the same time, the turtles aren’t dating each other though!

A/n: I know there is a bunch of things that might seem unnecessary, but they were requested to be put after the original request was asked.To anyone that doesn't like the fic, fuck you it wasn't made for you, I've been working on this for over 2 weeks and I put in as many requirments that were asked of me that I could and I think it came out great! Also, if it seems a little messy, it's because I didn't edit it before posting, I've been reading and reading only this for 2 weeks, I'm done.

February is such a romantic time of the year, it's chilly enough to want to cuddle with someone but not too freezing that one can still go out and have fun. That's why it's perfect that Valentine's day, a celebration of romance, is in February! It's been a year since you made your relationship with your four boyfriends official. It was a long complected process, but at the end of it, you were able to create a functioning and caring relationship with four boys. It was hard at first, with all the insecurity and jealousy floating amongst you all, but there was nothing a little of communication couldn't fix. That's why Valentines day is so important, while with usual dates throughout the year are one on ones set up on different days of the week, Valentines day is the one day of the year where your partners come together to make the day special for you. It's a little awkward for them since they are all brothers and helping each other plan dates all for the same girl wasn't something they really enjoyed, but it had to be done since they all want to celebrate with you. The day was seperated into four different dates, one dated planned for each of your boys and each date would be two and a half hours.

Your first date is Leo, he planned something simple, he wanted to show off his cooking skills and make you a homemade meal. He planned to pick you up at your house after you got home from work, but he was so excited for what he planned for the date that he just ambushes you on your way to the subway and takes you back to the lair. Although his intentions were sweet, you reprimand him and tell him not to scare you like that again.

"I'm sorry, Love. Let me make it up to you with this!" He then shows you the food he made, he spent hours working on a three course meal. Being a ninja, he found a lot of inspiration from Japan, so each dish was an authentic Japanese dish. The first dish was miso soup. It is actually really good, it has a gentle flavor that warms your cheeks. "Wow, Leo! This is great! How come you've never made this for me before?"He beams as you complement his hard work. "Well, this is actually the first time I've ever made it. I'm so happy you like it!" You giggle when you see him smile, he seems more excitable than usual. Next is the main course, nigiri and temaki sushi. You are surprised that he could make such small food with such big hands and it still come out looking so well put together. I taste fine at first, but as you chew you can tell that something was wrong with it. While the soup tasted great, this is the complete opposite. It had such a bold sour flavor and the rice stuck to the roof of your mouth making it hard to swallow. You tried your best to conceal your disgust because you knew how much care he put into the food, but you just knew that this was going to come back up later. "Oh- wow. This is so good, Leo." You say while holding your stomach. "It's so good, but I think I'm full now." "Really? That's too bad because I made dessert too." His expression dims and while it hurt your heart to see him disappointed, it hurt you insides more to continue. While the meal doesn't continue according to plan, the date is saved by conversation about each other's day and just generally enjoying the other's presence. When the date was over, you kiss him sweetly to show your appreciation. Although you couldn't eat everything, you know he put a lot of effort in this and you love him for it.

Your next date is with Mikey. He is a fun loving guy, but sometime what seems really fun to him is kind of gross to everyone else. His great date idea is to go swimming in the sewers. Of course he didn't expect you to go swimming in the gray water of New York, he had found a spot where the water has just come from being filtered but has not yet reached the homes of the city people so it was clean, but the main problem for you is that it is still the sewer that is filled with bugs, rats, and other creatures you'd rather stay away from. However, not wanting to ruin the cute date he planned, you reluctantly let him take you swimming.

Mikey gushes over your swim suit, a two piece with high-waist bottoms, it has a light green base with white flowers printed all over. It isn't tight, but it hugs your body in all the right places that Mikey can't help but be handsy and touch all your curves. You smile when you see his swim trunks, neon orange with pizza slices in the shape of lightning bolts. though his swim suit is cute, you can't get rid of your nerves. You try your best not to tic and show him that you really didn't want to go swimming with him, but with the repression plus Leo's bad cooking, you feel like the pressure building up and you want to throw up. "Are You ready?" He asks excitedly. You take a deep breath and hold onto his hand. "...Yes, I think so."

Mikey then pulls you into a tight hug and jumps into the water, The water rushes through the sewers like a water slider, you ride down it on top of your boyfriend as he lies on his back until you two each the bottom with a small pool of clear water, at the end of the pool is spilling water. You hold each other as you two splash into the pool and you both gasp for air and laugh after resurfacing from beneath the water.

You are happy to see clean water, not that you thought he'd take you somewhere gross, but the thought of not being able to see the bottom scares you. The two of you swim and splash in the water, it is fun to be with him. You even have a competition to see who could hold their breath longer, obviously Mikey win due to his amphibious advantage.

Some time later, Mikey get tired and finds that watching you is more enjoyable then doing his own thing. He watches as you swim from one end of the pool to the other. When you notice this, you giggle and swim towards him. "What are you doing? I thought we were swimming?" You ask. When you get close, he instinctively pulls you in close and you wrap your arms around his neck. "I was, but I just wanted to take a moment to admire my hot girlfriend." His comment make you laugh more. Seeing how cute you are, he can't help but reach down to grab your ass, giving it a small squeeze. "Really? That's what you want to do?" You ask, raising a brow. "It is Valentine's Day after all, why not?" He pulls you into a kiss, you feel his smile on your lips and you blush. When you let his lips go you smile at him and scratch his shell in the way he loves so much. "You're right, it is Valentine's day." You pull him closer, seemingly to kiss him again, but then you push him away and giggle as you swim away."But I'm not fucking you in the sewers, that's gross." He grabs his chest likes he's been hit with an arrow to the heart and sighs, making you laugh more. "You really thought, didn't you?" Your giggling echos throughout the sewer. "Yeah, I did. It was worth a shot though." He says disappointed, but his smile never disappearing.

You two continue to swim, but soon his date time is up and he takes you back to the lair where you met up with Donnie, who is next to take you on a date.

After your date with Mikey, you take a quick shower in the lair bathroom and then head to Donnie's lab. There you are greeted with a bright smile. "Hello, Dove! Did you have fun with Mikey?" He asks. "Yeah, I-" You instinctively cover you face and sneeze. "It probably wasn't a good idea to go swimming in February." Donnie laughs and places a hand on your back. "Well, let me help you warm up."

He leads you to his bedroom where a nest of pillows and blankets were lied out "I had a lot of ideas for our date, but then I couldn't pick which one was to do so I ended up copying Raph and set up a movie night." You gasp and playfully push him. "Donnie! I didn't go on his date yet! I thought it was a surprise!" "Sorry, I thought we agreed he'd go first. There was so much arguing that I lost track on the order we agreed on." He rubs his neck bashfully and apologizes. "Actually, Leo went first." You say, sitting on Donnie's bed. You remembered the food Leo gave you and it makes you tic. Donnie places a gentle hand on your shoulder and pulls you closer to kiss your head. This is his go-to way to calm you down when he sees you tic. "No matter who went first, I hope you like my date the best. I made sure the atmosphere was nice and comfy. I hope you like the movie I picked." On his laptop he pulls up a window and a movie starts to play. Donnie sits on his bed with his legs spread and you sit in the space between.

As you watched the movie, you can see why he chose it. It was a scifi which is his favorite fictional genre and had a romance between a human and an alien. You appreciated that he tried to stay on the romantic theme to match the occasion. Throughout watching the film, you notice that Donnie hasn't stopped touching you. He has kept one arm wrapped around your waist while the other has been roaming your body, mainly rubbing up and down your arm or leg. "Uh, Donnie?" You would've looked up to talk to him, but he has rested his chin on your head so you stay still. "Mhm?" His response is absentminded. "You keep touching me." "Oh, sorry. Is it distracting?" He asks, his attention now on you. "No it's not that, but I just feel like you're try to tell me something by doing it." "No, I just like touching you." He leans his head down and nuzzles his snout into the crook of you next. You giggle, it seems all the brothers were the same when it came to being handsy with you. Donnie kisses your neck and you laugh at the tickling sensation. "You don't mind, do you?" He asks. His thumbs rub circles into the joints of your hips. "No, I don't mind." You pull his face close and give him a soft kiss on the cheek. "Are you sure? I'll stop if you want." Donnie warns as he spreads you legs and starts to massage your inner thigh. You put your hand on his and guide him further towards the spot begging for his attention. "I'm sure."

Donnie starts to sensually massage your clothed folds. You reach your arms up and wrap your arms around his neck. He's cold, but you keep him warm with your back presses firmly against his plastron. He slips his hands past the hemline of your bottoms and down into your panties, you flinch at the contact of his cold scaly hands on your clit. You let small soft moans spill from your lips as he rubs circles around your clit. One of his large fingers teases your entrance, only allowing the tip to push in and collect the arousal that was forming. "D-Donnie~" You moan his name when he pushes further in, his fingers are so thick compared to a normal humans, it spreads you apart from the inside. "You're so nice and warm, Dove. This is why I love touching you so much, your so warm and soft, I just can't get enough of you." You bite your lip and you hold onto him tighter as he slowly pumps his finger in and out of you, his thumb still circling your clit. Your walls clamp down around him and he chuckles at the feeling. "You're so cute and so easy to play with, every touch of my fingers bring out the most adorable reactions from you." His fingers start to move faster and you cover your mouth with your hand trying to silence the high pitch whimpers of your voice. With his free hand Donnie pulls your hand away from your face and kisses your wrist. "Don't do that, I want to hear you." His voice is soft and sweet, but it feels stern when it hits your ears and sends a shiver up your spine. Your warm walls clench down tighter around his finger and he smiles. He places your hand around his neck once more and then pulls you in closer by your waist. He pushes another of his fingers in and he starts to pump into you a little faster. You don't try to cover your mouth again though and instead let the moans fall freely out of you. Donnie softly kisses the shell of your ear and whispers, "Good girl."

Donnie starts to pump even fast, and with two of his large fingers now stretching you out, you lets a few tear cascade down you cheeks. "Donnie! I'm really close!" Donnie kisses behind your ear and trails down your neck and onto your shoulder. He holds you close and continues to pleasure you as you squirm and ride through your orgasm, soaking his hand with your arousal. When your finish you are left breathless but satisfied. You relax against his plastron and smile up at him. "Happy Valentine's Day, Dove. I hope you enjoyed our time together, because the movie is over and if I don't get you to Raph soon he's going to tear me a new one." Donnie tries to move, but you stop him. "W-wait, wait, wait. Give me-.... give me a couple minutes to just....." Donnie smiles, he's happy that he has brought you to such a state of ecstasy, the sight of you is just so beautiful. "Okay, five more minutes."

After you recuperate from your date with Donnie, you are sent on your way to your next date. You find Raph in his room, you heard that he had set up a movie date like Donnie, but instead of a laptop you see that he has found an old busted up projector and pinned a large water tarp to the ceiling as a screen. You see him messing with the projector trying to get it to work but with minimal success. You laugh which gets his attention. "Do you find my struggle funny?" He asks, his tone is not angry but more playfully embarrassed. You walk up to him and give him a big hug, still giggling. "Maybe a little. Let me help, okay? I know they can be hard to work with but having smaller fingers can help." You go to fix the projector and it works immediately. You look to Raph and you notice that his expression seems strange, it's softer. As he looks down at you there is a soft smile and you can't quite tell what he's thinking. "What are you thinking?" You ask, turning around to hug him. You see him blush and pull you in closer. "I'm just, y'know, thinking about different things." You giggle at his shy reaction. "Oh yeah? You want to elaborate on that?" He shakes his head and laughs with you. "No, let me just show you the movie." You continue to laugh and embarrass him more as the two of you sit down to watch the movie.

"What are we watching?" You settle down with Raph and he pulls you into a surprisingly tight hug. "So uhm, do you remember that one movie last Halloween where I wanted to show you that one movie but-" "No! No, no, no! I know what movie you're talking about and I'm don't want to!" You try to get up and run away, but Raph's grip on you was too strong. "Babe, please. I know you'll love it you just have to see. In the end it's super romantic!-" "Raphael! I am not watching the movie about the little creature stealing teeth in the middle of the night! I can't do it! You know I can't watch horror movies, I tic like crazy!" You struggle and squirm to get out of his grip but to no avail, what's worse is that it's so effortless to him. "Goddammit! Why are you so strong?" Raph laughs and you feel the vibration of in through his plastron. "Are you really asking me that?" You looks down at you with a charming smile. "Yeah, I already know and it's hot as fuck...." "Really? You think I'm hot?" "Raph this is not the point! I don't want to watch this movie!" You face is red and flustered, the stress of it all makes you tic and small high-pitched puppy like whimpers are ripped from your mouth as you twist your neck to look left repeatedly, it's a very painful and annoyingly cute tic. Raph while still holding you tight, rubs the sides of your arms to calm you down. He's not the best at calming people down, but he tries.

As the movie plays you see the romantic sub-plot and the relationship looks a lot like you and Raph, but you can't get over the cryptic looking fairy creatures stealing the main character's teeth in the middle of the night. "R-Raph, I c-can't do this....." Over some time your tics start to slow down and have pauses in between each once. Raph thinks that means you're calming down and starting to enjoy the movie, but unfortunately that judgement was wrong.

You feel your body be shot with electricity. Your body starts to stiffen and you hold onto Raph tightly, digging your nails into him almost breaking skin. "Ow...Babe? Are you ok?" You don't respond, you can't. Your body shakes and you feel as if trapped, like your body was merely a prison for your mind. "Babe, oh god. Are you-? Okay yeah, you're having one of those seizure things. Oh god!" Out of panic he lets go of his tight grip on you. For a second he thinks that he should carry you to Donnie, but the thought of hurting you because he miss-handled you freaks him out, so he leaves you lying on the floor in front of his bed were the two of you were sitting. "Thank you, Raph. Very gentleman-like" Is what you think before he runs out of the room.

Five second later he comes back to place a pillow under your head. "Please be okay! I got to go!" He then run out of the room again. "Ok, that's better."

A few minutes pass and you return to normal, well, aside from being a little unstable, but nothing a couple minutes of calming down couldn't fix. "Wow, I can't fucking believe he just left me here! Raph, you idiot...." You take a few deep breathes as you pout and wait for your red banded boyfriend to come back. You pick up the pillow he left for you so your wouldn't be hurt and sigh into it with a hug "Idiot...."

Soon enough Mikey and Donnie come rushing in, but noticeably Raph and Leo are absent. "Oh my god, Baby! Are you okay? Mikey rushes to you about to embrace you in a hug, but he stops himself and backs away. You're confused until Donnie steps up. With a sweet but concerned expression he approaches and takes you hand gently. "Please take this and squeeze." He places a marble the size of your palm in your hand. You do as you're told squeeze onto the marble. Donnie brings up a hologram that appears from his wrist. You see that it's vitals, presumably yours. Your expression deadpans and you drop the marble. "You know, you could just ask me how I am. This isn't the first time I've had a seizure and I've told you guys about it before." "We know, it's just that we we're worried." Donnie says, picking up the marble from the floor. "You don't have to be, I'm fine!" Mikey smiles with tears streaming from his face and pulls you into a hug. "I was so scared that you were going to die!" He holds you tight and sobs. You smile and pet his shell to reassure him. "I'm fine, Mikey-" You suddenly hear yelling in the other room and your smile falls. "Where is Raph and Leo? Is that them out there?" You look to Donnie for answers but he just looks away, Mikey let's you go and does the same to avoid you gaze, they both know how you feel about fighting amongst themselves and they didn;t want to confirm your suspicions. You get up and walk past them to leave the room and the two don't stop you.

You walk into the open space of the lair to see Raph and Leo fighting once again. You thought they had stopped this when you guys started dating but it obviously hasn't. "How could you let this happen? We go a year and she has never once had a seizure with us, she has been safe and secure for so long, but the moment she is left alone with you it happens! Did you do this on purpose? You know how much she tics when she watches horror movie-" "I would never put her in harms way on-" "But the thing is, Raph, is that you did! She got hurt because of you! All of this is-" You watch them fight, but you can't let it go on. "Stop! Please stop fighting!" You run in a step in between them to show them your fine. They stand in shock for a second before the chaos break again. "Babe, I'm sorry! I never meant to-" Raph tries apologize but before he can finish you find Leo's arms snake around you and pick you up. He then carries you away and rushes out of the lair.

You hold onto Leo with your eyes closed and face towards his plastron as he rushes away, he can feel his breath is heavy and wavered. When he stops and breathes, you see that your on a roof building somewhere in the city. He loosens up as he calms down, when you try to escape his hold he doesn't let you. "I was scared.....for you." You look up at him, and see a few tears threatening to fall. "I read up on seizure when you told me you told me you got them and I read all about people dying and-.....I was scared you'd get hurt. When it finally happen I thought I was going to lose you." Leo puts your feet on the ground but doesn't let you go, he still holds on tight but shakey. You smile softly and reach for his face, forcing him to look at you. "You got anxious? That's okay, my love! I know you love but you have to remember that you love them too, they're your brothers, so you can't get mad at them when things happen." Leo doesn't say anything, he just let's you continue to comfort him. "I've dealt with seizure for many years before I met any of you and I will deal with them for many years into the future, at some point you guys were going to see me have one, so it's not Raph's fault and I know you know that."

Leo kneels down on the ground so that you are taller than him and you continue to hug him and lovingly pet his shell. He's still for a moment, but then he smells something. He pushes you away to smell the air and he doesn't find it. He sniffs you and smells something strange. He continues to sniff almost like a dog and pushes you to the ground. You laugh at first but then his snout travels further down your body and you start to get nervous if not a little embarrass. "L-Leo? What are you doing" He makes it all the way to in between your thighs and then stops. He then goes back up to your face and stares into your eyes, it makes you very nervous and you let out a a few small vocal tics. "Who? Who was it?" He asks, not in a stern or angry way but his voice alone still make your stomach sink. "W-who w-what?" You stutter out. His face gets close to yours and you start to blush. "Who did you let fuck you tonight?" He asks, his voice is low and quiet, the tone is almost threatening, but damn does it sound sexy as hell. "I didn't-" "Don't lie to me, I can smell him on you." He uses his arms to cage you under him. You look up at him and in this moment you can't recall a time where he looked sexier then right now as he hovers above you. "Now, I'll ask one more time. Who fucked you?" He never raised his voice at you the whole time, but you could still feel the intensity as he spoke. "Donnie! I-It was Donnie! But we didn't have sex or anything, he just-" You feel your cheeks burn as his arms flex near your head. You feel yourself being turned on by his threatening aura, you squeeze you thighs together as you become wet for him and your lady box begs for his attention. "'He just-' What? What did you do?" You can't tell if he is mad at you or not, but you it feels like you're being scolded. "He fingered me, I let him finger me...." You can't look anywhere but in his eyes, your body won't let you, but still you wish you could hide from his gaze.

Leo sighs and releases you from his arm prison. He sits up, still straddling you to the ground as he looks down at you with and semi-mad and disappointed expression. "I didn't think he out of all of us would be the one to turn you into a whore, but I guess I was wrong." Leo stands up and turns to leave but you get up too and run after him, catching him by the flying tails of his blue bandana. "Leonardo! You cannot just leave me on some random building rooftop in the middle of fuck knows where, New York, just because you are mad at me! He's my boyfriend just like you and I's allowed to be fingered or get fuck by my boyfriend if I want!" Leo turns around sharply and you are finally met with an angry expression. "Speaking of, how is it to hoe yourself out to four different guys? I'm not usually one to slut-shame but seeing as how where all brothers that all fight for your time while you sit back and watch it happen, I've made an exception!" You gasp and then stamp your foot. "You of all people have no right to be mad at me for that! It was your idea in the first place for this to be a thing, for all of us to form this relationship!" "That's only because little-miss-indecisive couldn't pick which one of us should be her boyfriend! You took your sweet-ass time to even consider dating any of us and then took even more time to pick which one out of the four of us to date!" He yells as he slowly walks towards you like a predator getting closer to it's prey, you back up as he gets closer and your skins chills as he does so. "I only did it, so my brother's and I wouldn't suffer waiting for your answer! We were all filled with anxiety and jealousy of one another, you pinned us against each other! I only suggested the relationship because I know my team, my family, would fall apart if I didn't do something! I did it because I knew your wouldn't choose me!"

All the yelling starts to make you cry and you rush at forward and hug him, you cry into his plastron and refuse to look him in the eye. "It's not that I wouldn't have chosen you, I love you so much! I just couldn't not love all of you. You all mean so much to me and I couldn't see my life not loving all four of you. I knew if I chose one of you that not only would I lose the rest of you but the rest of you would hate whoever I chose!" You sniffle and try to calm your breathing. "I want you all in my life..." You aren't able you wrap your arms around him the same way he could with you, but you still hold him tight. You feel him relax in your embrace, but you continue to cry, seemingly unable to stop. "I'm-.....I'm sorry, Love. Please don't cry." He hugs you back and starts to pet your hair. "I'm sorry I got mad, I did mean to become-" He clears his throat, stalling himself from admitting it out loud. "-territorial..." You look up at him, still somewhat teary-eyed. "I'm sorry too, I never mean to make you guys feel so awful."

You both stay silent for a moment, trying to calm down from yelling at each other. "Did you feel jealous? Since I was so intimate with Donnie." Leo chuckles in a bashful way, a little bit because of they way you asked it but mainly out of embarrassment of being so mad at you for something that seems a little silly. "Yeah, I think I was. It's just that you were pretty intimate with not just Donnie but with Mikey and Raph too. You went swimming with Mikey and he got to see you basically have naked and when Raph had a chance to protect you he just left you there to go through it alone!" You grab a hold of his arms and rub up and down to ground him. "So you felt left out?" He takes a breathe and softly smiles at you. "I guess I did feel that way, sorry."

You reach your arms up pull him into a quick kiss, it's soft and only lasts a second but its warm and sweet. You smile sincerely as you look into his eyes. "Leo, do you want to make it equal then? He feels butterflies in his stomach as you speak, a bit dazed by your affectionate attitude. "Make what equal?...." "You said you felt left out, so do you want to join in? Be intimate with me too?" You kept eye contact with him as you ask this. Leo thinks for a moment and then smirks. He feels up your sides and squeezes your hips. "I thought you'd never ask." Leo picks you up and kisses you. His kisses are always passionate but gentle, a perfect combination of aggression and control. He holds you up by you legs, your holding onto him with your arms around his neck and your thighs are being squeezed by his strong hands.

There is a rooftop access door on the roof you two are on, it has a large metal lock on a chain wrapped around the handle. As the kiss become hotter and more passionate and it starts to become foreplay, he pushes you up against that door and kisses down your neck. When he starts to bite and leave hickeys is when your heavy breathing becomes moans. You clumsily pull down your bottoms when he lifts up your top and leaves a trail of kisses down your chest and belly. He loves kissing your belly, it's soft a squishy, it's like kissing a pillow, he finds comfort in it's warmth. Soon enough his snout is met your your cunt, wet and dripping arousal from all the heavy-petting. He spreads your folds with his fingers and licks a long strip up from your hole to your clit, it sends a fluttering feeling through your body. He makes kitten licks over your love-bud and then slowly makes his way into your hole. You legs now resting on his shoulders, his face is what keeps you up and you lean your back on the door. His long tongue slithers inside you and reaches for your g-spot, the sensation makes you shutter and a few quivering moans force there way out from your throat. "Leo! P-please don't stop!" You squeeze your thighs around his head, your hands are pushing his face closer to your cunt. You continue to whimper and whine as his tongue tickles your cervix. It only takes a couple of minutes for him to push you to your limit and you cum on his face. You take a moment to relish in the feeling, but then you realize what you've done. You just came on his face. "Oh my god, Leo! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to do that!" Leo calmly lifts up and off his face and sits up on his knee. "You didn't mean to cum on my face? Was I not good enough?" He asks jokingly. "No, you were great! It's just I didn't mean to make such a mess and on your face too! I'm so sorry!" You blush out of embarrassment, but Leo stays calm and even laughs. "No, it's okay. That's what I was trying to get you to do anyway." He says, licking his lips for traces of you, you blush at the glistening sheen still left on his face.

Leo sets you back down on the ground and allows you to buts your clothes back on. "I think we should go back home, the guys must be worried about us." You say, trying to shake the wrinkles out of your clothes. "You didn't seem to worried about them when you were squirting on my face and screaming my name." Leo says cockily. "For one, I wasn't screaming. Two, maybe it only seemed like that because you were sucking my soul out of my body when you ate my pussy." You flirt and banter for a bit before finally he takes you back to the lair, to reunite with your other boyfriends.

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dadsbongos · 2 years

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slender aphrodite has overcome me

Warnings: religious homophobia and internalized homophobia, reader is specifically stated to be a lesbian and catholic (but she isn't catholic by the end), robin being an eddie-hater for 99.9% of this, blink and you’ll miss it nsfw reference Summary: You and Robin were supposed to work on a chemistry project, but then she takes you to Lovers’ Lake. Also, Eddie supports lesbians. Word Count: 7.6 K AO3 Link ~~~

Eddie used to come into your father’s church every Sunday with his uncle. Buzzed head and huffy attitude and wandering eyes, he would stroll in as if he had anything better to do - but he’d always wave at you.

Eventually, you graduated from small waves to him making his uncle sit in the front pew with you and the rest of your family. Though, that turned into you two sitting in the back together while the adults sat in the front.

Because while everyone else was listening, Eddie was playing tic-tac-toe with you in the notes section of a bible he grabbed and you were challenging him to silent games of rock-paper-scissors. You two would mouth along to every hymn because neither of you knew the words and you’d giggle when your father called on him to speak before everyone for holiday services.

Eddie stopped coming to church when he was eighteen, but he’d always be right outside when service was finished. You’d bounce over to him as he smoked and pretend he didn’t reek of pot and cheap cologne. You’d put up with the stinging eyes and awful tobacco smell because you wanted to see him before he drove his uncle home.

Eddie Munson was your very first, and very closest, friend.

Robin Buckley fucking hates Eddie Munson.

He was always hanging off of you when you two stood next to each other. He would ramble on and on and on and on about music and D&D and how much he hated the faculty at school. He was annoying and he smoked and he dealt drugs and she has no idea why you defend him so hard.

“He’s honestly trying in school, he is. He just has trouble concentrating.”

“Someone has to cover the bills and his uncle’s job doesn’t pay all that well.”

“Eddie has never been anything other than kind to me.”

“He’s just passionate - who can fault him for being interested in things?”

Robin wishes she could’ve been the one sitting next to you in the back pews. She wishes she was the one ranting to you about the music she likes and the movies she watches and the absolute bullshit she has to deal with at work.

And it’s at work that she hyperfixates on this so deeply because Family Video is directly across the street from the new florist shop your mother owns (lovingly called The Garden after terrestrial paradise). And because mommy dearest owns the place, you work there and because you work there, Eddie the motherfucking freak Munson is always leaning against the front counter and talking your pretty little ear off.

And Robin has to watch it all.

Robin shakes her head and buries herself back into restocking the shelves as Steve looks through the pile of returned movies that haven’t yet been checked in. Steve suddenly gasps and snaps and she can hear his shoes squeak against the tile as he spins around to look at her.

“Hey, remember that movie we saw last month? The one about the professor at a motel?”

“Desert Hearts - what about it?” before Steve gets the chance to reply, Robin turns away from restocking and points at him, “Don’t tell me you didn’t like it, I saw you crying.”

“I wasn’t going to,” he raises his hands defensively, “I was going to say - that one girl rented it.”

Robin’s brows furrow and she shakes her head, “You’re lying.”

“I’m not,” Steve can’t help but grin at his friend, “I even kept her receipt. Just for you.”

“Creep,” Robin storms out of the shelves and ducks behind the counter beside Steve, “Show it to me.”

“Alright, alright, give me a second!”

By the vague title of ‘one girl’, Steve meant, of course, the girl that had coincidentally been Robin’s science lab partner for the entirety of her high school career.

The one who lights the bunsen burner because she knows Robin’s hands always shake when she tries. The one who brings bottled water to school just because Robin hates the fountains. The one who works directly across the street. The pastor’s daughter.

Steve holds out the receipt like a gold star sticker, “See?”

“I’m looking,” Robin can hardly believe it.

It’s your name. And right under your name is ‘DESERT HEARTS’ in big, bold letters that Robin wishes she could implant in the tissue of her brain.

“You know what this means, don’t you?” Robin quirks a brow at Steve, and he tosses the scrap of paper at her as he whisper-yells, “She likes boobies!”

“Ew,” Robin swats his arm but grabs the receipt like it’ll decay the moment it touches the ground, “don’t say ‘boobies’. And don’t be so loud about it.”

She shoves Steve towards the cart of movies that need restocked and stares out the glass doors. Right where you work for your mother as a florist. The Garden.

Then, her eye catches the clock - 4:30 in the afternoon.

“Don’t forget, I’m clocking out early today,” Robin calls to Steve.

“Oh, shit,” Steve pokes his head out of aisles to look at her, “when?”

“Mmm,” she hums, watching you and Eddie exit The Garden and wave goodbye to your mother, “like right now.”

“What?! Since when?”

“Since I asked Keith to go home early for a school emergency,” Robin stamps her time card and then walks over to Steve to mutter, “Which is having the pastor’s daughter in my bedroom for our honors chemistry project.”

“Ooh,” Steve raises his eyebrows, “update me on that.”

“Will do,” Robin darts out and across the street to where you’re loading your bag into the back of Eddie’s van, “Hey!”

You turn at the sound of her voice and she’s in love with the way your face brightens at the sight of her, “Hey, Robin! I was just about to have Eddie give me a ride to your place.”

“Yeah,” Robin decides to apologize to Steve later, “so, Steve decided he didn’t wanna give me a ride home anymore,” a complete and utter lie, but neither of you need to know that, “if it isn’t any trouble, could I ride with you two?”

“Uh,” you look at Eddie immediately and while Robin can’t see him in the driver’s seat, she knows her hate grows when you giggle at him before returning to her, “Yeah, of course, you can. I’ll sit in the back, so you aren’t lonely.”

“Wow, so I’m just the chauffeur,” Eddie turns to look at you as you climb into the backseats and Robin follows.

“Sure looks like it,” you shrug, moving your bag to rest in your lap and addressing Robin, “He’s just messing around, don’t buy his teasing, ‘kay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Robin clenches her bag in her own lap and gets a view of Eddie’s side profile as she gives him her address.

But he just smiles and gestures to you, “I’m painfully aware. Everytime someone wants to see you, I’m stuck being her driver.”

His good-naturedness is almost heartwarming.

But unfortunately, it reminds her how much he sickens her - because she knows that if it weren’t for his reputation, people would flock to him for his looks. You don’t fall into the fear mongering about his reputation, so she can’t help but wonder what you think about him beneath a friendship.

She wants to pick your brain and end the investigation of how you feel. Did you rent Desert Hearts because you’re accepting and it’s cute? Or because you like women? Or, worst of all, to make fun of it with your family?

She can’t just ask because she doesn’t want to scare you off. She’s sure it took enough courage to actually rent the damn thing, you don’t need to be cornered because she’s restless.

“Oh, uhm,” you snap as you speak, “I told my parents I was going to Nancy Wheeler’s house for the night,” you rub the back of your neck nervously, “They’re crazy - don’t even let me go out with friends they don’t know…”

“Ah, no problem,” Robin chuckles, “I used to do the same thing, and then I stopped going out. It’s done wonders for my lying problem.”

You giggle at her jest and she’s convinced that if God’s real, It takes form in your sweet peels of laughter, “I just wanted to let you know.”

“What if they call her, though? Like, to check on you.”

The air turns sour and your smile is tight-lipped, “They won’t.”

She can read between the lines and let the response pass, “You can stay at my house for the night, if you want?”

“Oh, are you sure?” you jab your foot into the back of the driver’s seat, “I was just gonna stay with Eddie.”

“Yes!” she’s so eager and it burns her throat, “I mean, yeah, you can stay at my house. My parents shouldn’t care too much.”

The image of you staying the night with Eddie makes her physically ill.

“Hey,” he suddenly snaps and for a split second Robin’s worried she’d said that aloud, but no - his eyes, of course, are fixated on you in the rearview mirror, “don’t kick the driver. I’ll crash!”

“On purpose?” you quirk a brow and shake your head. Eddie doesn’t verbally respond, but he takes another glance at you in the mirror and shrugs as if to say - duh. As though to calm her nonexistent anxieties, you wave him off to Robin, “He isn’t gonna crash, he loves his van too much.”

“Steve’s the same way,” she rolls her eyes just thinking about the man, she leans down to whisper to you, “You know, for people that hate each other so much - they’re not too different sometimes.”

And that pulls another heavenly bell laugh out of you.

You’ve been to Robin’s house before. For many things. Study nights, projects, sleepovers, simple hours together. You’d lied to your parents for each and every one, but you’d do it again in a heartbeat if it meant uninterrupted hours with Robin Buckley.

Your nails dig into your thigh at that thought. It’s an intrusive one - one that isn’t your fault.

You spot your father’s church in the distance as the car passes through town and tap Eddie’s shoulder, “Hey, hey, pull over real quick.”

Robin sees the tight set of his jaw and from that she can get a sense for why he decided to leave the church. She can also see it in the way you nervously stare at the church and wring your hands.

“I won’t be long,” you quietly promise as Eddie parks in the lot and hop out.

Eddie watches you march up the steps and shakes his head, “Catholic guilt, am I right?”

“Huh?” Robin leans forward, pressing her face against the back of the passenger seat against her better judgment.

“Every time she sees this place, she has to stop and repent for something. Something that probably isn’t even as bad as what half those people do in their offtime,” he scoffs and Robin is put off by how quickly she falls in line with his words.

But she still doesn’t like him.

…

Your breathing is offset as you step into the church and you spot your father up at the altar, he sighs and makes his way down the aisle to you.

“I thought you were going to the Wheeler’s,” he murmurs.

“We were passing by,” the defense is weak but it’s all you can conjure.

He shakes his head and returns to the altar. You go to the holy water font and carefully dip the tips of your fingers into it, kneeling at the back of the pews and making a cross over yourself as you get to your knees.

You whisper against your hands - clasped so hard they’re shaking against your lips - “Oh, Heavenly Father, please forgive me for I have sinned. I continue to be sickened with the thoughts of women in the way a man should be,” it’s silent in the church and you feel like there’s a gun barrel pressing to the back of your skull, “I promise to you, once I gain the courage to approach my father I will ask him for help, but please, guide me to Your good light and help me get through this,” if possible, your fingers feel like they wind tighter around themselves, “In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.”

You rise and press another cross over yourself. Without a goodbye to your father, you rush out of the church and back to Eddie’s van.

It wasn’t as though your father would press you for that sort of familial affection anyway. You haven’t so much as whispered your rotten thoughts to him, but it still feels as though he knows.

“Sorry, sorry,” you wave off Robin’s concern as you return to the backseat of Eddie’s van, “Thanks so much, Eds.”

You don’t quite catch the way Robin cringes at the sound of his nickname on your tongue, but if you did then you think that’d be a better distraction than whether or not your father can somehow read your mind.

“Yeah, she’s insane.”

“I am not- “ before you can even finish, though, Robin’s voice cuts in dangerously quick.

“She’s not insane!”

“Hey,” Eddie shrugs in his defense, “whatever you two wanna think.”

Something about the way Robin defends you, in that strong voice with those determined eyes - it makes you wanna confess all over again. You turn and press your forehead to the glass of the window, hoping that perhaps the coolness will ease your sickness.

…

In Robin’s room is a Flashdance poster. Jennifer Beals in the center in an oversized sweater with her arms hanging between two parted legs. Beside that is a Jessica Lange poster from a scene you recognize from King Kong - Lange in her pearls and gold bikini. You turn to Robin as she shuts her bedroom door.

She catches your eye and then finally seems to spot the two posters, she scratches at her cheek, lowering her bag to the ground, “I just really respect them as actresses.”

“Mhm,” you hum and hop onto her bed.

You lay back into the plush of Robin’s mattress as she picks out clothes from her dresser. You like Robin’s bed more than you do your own - it feels more like home.

“Uh, I’m gonna go change,” she holds up a set of clothes and you nod, waving to her as she leaves.

Robin’s certain that many people would kill and die just for you to be laying in their bed - of course, they would, how could they not? - and she considers herself lucky for you to do so on your own accord.

You dig out the list of ideas you and Robin had constructed in class for your joint chemistry project. It’s empty - you knew that, but maybe if you stared hard enough the words would come onto the paper of their own accord.

Then, like magic - the words weasel their way from your brain, “Nitrogen triiodide.”

“Huh?” Robin tosses her work uniform into the laundry basket and hops onto her bed beside you.

“Nitrogen triiodide!” when she isn’t as excited as you, you continue, “Crystals of iodine will react with concentrated ammonia to precipitate nitrogen triiodide. Then it's filtered out. When it’s dry, the compound is so unstable that the tiniest contact causes it to decompose into nitrogen gas and iodine vapor,” you elaborate further when all Robin does is blink at you, “It’ll explode and let out a purple iodine vapor.”

“Oh, shit!” Robin gets up on her knees, raising her hands above her head, “That’s so cool!” then she extends her arms out, “You’re so smart!”

If this were a movie, Robin would’ve taken you into her arms and kissed you.

And you think you would’ve let her.

You cough awkwardly and nod, “We’d need solid iodine and ammonia concentrate, but it’ll be pretty easy.”

“That was way less time than I thought it’d be,” Robin flopped down onto her back.

“Same,” you shove the paper back into your bag.

Robin’s room reminds you of a sunset. With white walls that bathe in the orange glow of her lamps and a pink bedspread with accents of white. It felt comfortable. More so than the plain black and white theme that your parents absolutely refused to let you change in your own room.

“It’s not too late, yet,” Robin checked her watch - 5:30 in the afternoon, “We could eat and then take a field trip.”

Robin liked going on ‘field trips’ when you came over. It was just her showing you her new favorite spot, but you always just liked to spend time with her.

“That sounds nice,” you rise from her bed, “What’s for dinner?”

“No clue,” she leads you down the stairs and into the kitchen, “Don’t even know if these people went shopping.”

“Then we may have to fend for ourselves,” you sigh in exaggeration.

In all the times you’d been to Robin’s house, you’d only met her parents a few times. It was easy to forget they even existed, to be completely honest. Almost made you imagine what living with Robin would be like.

And that didn’t sound too bad.

Waking up next to her pretty bedhead every day and getting to have that gentle rasp be the first thing you heard in the morning - it sounded simply divine.

…

There was a lonely pier at Lovers’ Lake. You’d actually never been there before, but Robin knew the way like a piece for band. It took over thirty minutes just to walk there, but the night was cool and Robin even slid her hand into yours.

“It’ll keep you from getting lost,” she swung your joined hands as she said it.

“I’ll trust you then,” you hurried to be closer at her side.

The path was hardly dark enough to get lost on.

“I brought a flashlight, if we need it,” you raise the little light that you’d stuffed into your pockets just in case.

“No, I like adventuring like this,” she squeezes your hand as the shimmering lake grows closer into sight, “Like I’m a big brave knight,” she turns to you and you can see the way her red lipstick perfectly accentuates her lip shape, “and you’re the sweet princess that I get to save.”

“What if I want to be the knight?” you suggest.

“Then I’ll walk behind you and you go ahead.”

“Maybe on the walk back home.”

Robin stops you before you can sit down on the dock, she kneels down and gently brushes her hands over the wood, swiping any debris into the lake before gesturing for you to sit with a, “M’lady.”

“Why, thank you,” you take the hand she offers and seat yourself at the edge of the dock so your legs hang over the edge. Your shoes just barely toe at the water, and for the sake of not having wet socks for the walk home, you decide to keep them on.

Robin sits down, so close that her shoulder just barely brushes against yours. She checks her watch and you lean over her shoulder to get a peek as well - 9:23 at night.

“Worst pet name - go.”

It takes you a moment to register her statement, but even when you do, all you can do is dumbly ask, “What?”

“I’m bored and this is easy conversation,” Robin shrugs and looks at you, “What’s the worst pet name? Like in a relationship.”

“Oh, uhh,” instantly, one comes to mind and makes you shiver - in a bad way, “I used to date a guy who would call me ‘honeysuckle’,” Robin lets out one of her adorable laughs that tatter off into open-mouthed silence as she cranes her neck back in amusement, “I know it was meant to be sweet, but looking back on it I’m a little weirded out.”

“Well, I haven’t been in a relationship yet, but if they called me ‘princess’, I’d puke,” you quirk a brow at her as you laugh and that prompts her explanation, “My dad used to call me that when I was younger, so if the person I was dating ever did it - then I’d just think of my dad.”

“Oh, gross. I’d hate to think of my dad when my boyfriend spoke,” you shake your head.

Robin’s smile tapers down a little, and your heart shutters at the sad sight, “Yeah, I think everyone would.”

“Oh, I have a question for you - “ you bump your shoulder with Robin’s, “what made you want to befriend Steve Harrington?”

You’d be lying if you said Steve Harrington’s closeness to Robin didn’t bother you. He’d already graduated, anyway - why was he still clinging onto her? Steve never had good intentions - everyone in Hawkins knew that - and you didn’t trust him around Robin.

“Ugh,” she gags at the sound of his name, “honestly, I have no clue. He was just so… pathetic with only kids as his friends, I felt - like - a moral obligation.”

She shrugs off the question and while you do laugh alongside her, there’s a burning that settles into your heart. And not the good kind.

“How - uh - are you and Munson still friends?” she’s tapping at the wood of the dock with her nails as she asks.

You like the way the moonlight bounces off her skin, it distracts you, “Hm?”

“Well, a lot of people think he’s, like, a Satanist, or something. I’d think your parents would go nuts about that.”

“They don’t like him anymore, but it’s the one they’ve agreed to let me have. We’ve known each other for too long for them to justify cutting him out of my life.”

“I see,” Robin hums quietly before launching into another question, “Biggest difference between you and Munson?”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” she shakes her head and smiles at you, “Fun.”

“Uhm,” you narrow your eyes up at the moon as you ponder, “Okay, I got one. Eddie likes metal,” you point to yourself, “I like rock.”

“Oh, wow, such a huge detail,” Robin chuckles, “How could I have missed it?”

“I know, I know. Not a lot of people can see past it, actually.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, when the Hellfire kids found out, they almost went insane.”

“I bet. It sounds insane that you two are even friends.”

You swing your legs off the edge of the dock and look at Robin, “What’s the biggest difference between you and Steve?”

“Uhm,” Robin’s mouth hangs open in shock as her mind blanks, “oh my God, we’re way too similar, actually.”

“Ew,” you gag and Robin gasps, turning to you with a broad smile, though she’s trying to stifle it with faux betrayal.

“What do you mean ‘ew’?!” she takes the hand you’re using to hide your growing giggles and shakes it around, “‘Ew’?!”

“I’m kidding! I’m kidding!” you gently bat her arm, “I’d hate for that to be me, though.”

“Oh my God,” for a moment, Robin panics, thinking she may have offended you, but you’re still laughing. Having a good time.

She decides to simply revel in it. You’re a far cry from the panicked stopping of Eddie just to confess for a sin she’s sure wasn’t all that bad. And she hopes that just maybe she had a part to play in that.

Then, suddenly, she can’t keep an opinion to herself, “You have dated some of the ugliest guys in Hawkins, you know that?”

Well, it’s a fact, rather. Everyone who knows your dating history - knows that.

“Oh my gosh,” you shake your head, “c’mon, they aren’t that bad!”

“They so are! You can’t tell me that Christopher Marks was a decision made of sound mind.”

You pop a light smack to Robin’s arm but don’t tell her off, “Yeah, fine, my exes aren’t lookers. But they were nice, right?” you turn to look at her this time, “Maybe I don’t date for looks.”

“You can date for personality and still have attractive partners,” Robin gives you a side eye, “Or, attractive to you, at least.”

“So maybe I wasn’t that attracted to them,” and like a prayer, you repeat, “but they were nice, right? My parents liked them a lot.”

“They were nice,” Robin nodded, “Pretty bland, though.”

“Robin, what are you trying to say?” your giggles have died into something serious. Your smile makes Robin nervous just looking at it and your eyes have widened a little. Like you’ve been caught with your hand in the cookie jar, “I know I don’t date the coolest, hottest guys - but they were nice to me and my parents really liked them. Not everyone can have Steve Harrington wrapped around their finger.”

Robin‘s brows furrow and she shakes her head, “Steve and I aren’t a thing.”

“Then you must be blind,” you stand up from the splintered wood dock and throw your arms out at your sides in exasperation, “because there’s something between you and Steve that a lot of people don’t have.”

“Yeah, well, I could say the same thing about you and Eddie fucking Munson,” Robin shoots up from the pier, brows drawn tight and shoulders tensed, “You two are weirdly close for a pastor’s daughter and the outcast Satanist.”

“He is not a Satanist - how could you even suggest that about us?” you feel sick to your stomach and while you know exactly why it matters that Robin doesn’t get too close, you aren’t sure why she’s so wrapped up in your friendship with Eddie Munson, “He’s ni- “

“Oh, is he nice?” Robin tilts her head, “Would your parents like him?”

“Shut up,” your throat is rubbing raw and you think there’s tears welling in your eyes.

“Well?” she laughs and it feels like a blade twisting into your gut, “Isn’t that the criteria? Your parents want a nice guy that everybody but you likes and you’re so willing to play the sweet pastor’s daughter role that you don’t even break up with them!”

“What do you want me to do, Robin?!” you know you should be walking away. You shouldn’t be arguing with her out here. You should be at home. Or better, at church.

Robin quiets down and simply stares at you. Her eyes look so sweet in the moonlight, though. You’ve always liked her eyes.

You shake your head. You should be praying and away from Robin.

“Why do you care about me hanging out with Steve?” her voice gets more raspy the quieter she speaks and you like that, too. You like the way your name sounds from her pink lips when she calls to you. But now, when she calls to you, it feels like acid in your ears.

Your hands shake and you dodge her stare, you can feel the swell of your throat and the sweat breaking out along your forehead. You can feel your knees buckling and your legs wobbling.

“I should go,” you turn and Robin grabs your wrist in her soft hand.

“Why do you care about me hanging out with Steve?” you can’t bring yourself to look at her, “Do you like him?”

“No!” you whip around and look Robin in those sapphire eyes and it makes you wanna puke just how much you’d sacrifice right now to stare into those eyes until the world collapsed into burning brimstone like in Sodom and Gomorrah, “I do not like Steve Harrington, I just- I- “

“You what?” Robin’s nearly whispering now, her voice is gentle and she carefully brings up a hand to cup your cheek, “Nobody’s out here - you can tell me anything you want.”

“I- “ you’re calmer when Robin’s holding you than when you’re sitting in the church pews and feel the crawling gaze of your elders. When they’re wondering when you’ll actually get a man to stay. When everyone is asking why you don’t hurry and pick a man and everyone is saying that it’d be so easy - you’re the pastor’s daughter.

You’re sweet. You don’t care where they go. You don’t get jealous. You aren’t selective about looks. You could have any man you wanted.

And that’s the problem.

“I don’t like men, Robin,” you whisper it so quietly you’re almost hoping that she didn’t even hear you, “I don’t know what to do, but I just don’t like them. They aren’t cute and none of them appeal to me. Not one of them.”

Robin nods, “You wanna know a secret?”

“What?”

“I don’t like men, either,” she’s louder than you when she says it and for a moment, you hope that that could be you someday.

But until then, you’re shell shocked at her admission, “What? I- I thought I was… sick.”

“You’re not sick,” Robin smiles, “We’re not sick. So, wanna tell me why you’re so jealous of Steve Harrington?”

Robin thinks that your laughter is the true sound of angels, “I am not jealous of Steve Harrington. He peaked in high school and follows a group of kids around.”

“Wow,” she muses, “church girl has a mean streak.”

“That wasn’t mean,” you reach up and press your hand against the one she holds your face with, “I’m not jealous of him.”

“Sure,” Robin teases.

Just then, you think you hear a branch snap behind you two.

You break apart from Robin and search the clearing with wild eyes for the source of the sound.

A dog is sat staring at you before getting bored and strolling off. It slams on you like a ton of bricks - the things you just risked.

Your reputation.

Your father’s position.

Your parents’ respect.

Robin’s reputation.

Being with Robin is dangerous, it makes you act out in ways your father would lash you for. So now you retract into yourself.

What would your friends think if they saw you now? What would your teachers say about you if they knew?

You shake your head and turn away from Robin, “I have to go.”

“Wait, don’t- “ you can hear her chase after you but you’re too quick to run away.

You duck into a gas station and hide among the shelves until you’re certain Robin’s given up following you. You meander over to the counter and fiddle with your fingers as you sheepishly ask, “Can I please borrow your phone?”

The boy behind the counter recognizes you and nods, though he seems shaken to see you. He points over to the phone at the corner of the counter and asks, “Is everything okay, sister?”

“Yes, brother” you try to smile while returning the Catholic sentiment despite not remembering who this boy is, “everything is perfectly fine. I got lost on one of my walks.”

You hope he doesn’t bring this up in church on Sunday. As far as your parents are concerned, you’re at Nancy Wheeler’s house - though they don’t know that you and Nancy have grown apart since freshman year.

Your voice keeps quiet in case the boy is as prone to snooping as the rest of your church is, “Eddie? I need you to pick me up.”

…

Eddie truly is a sweetheart when you go by the book and don’t cast the first stone, though most of your father’s believers don’t follow that themselves.

Eddie doesn’t waste much time coming to your aid and he doesn’t complain about the hour - but judging by the darkening skin patching under his eye, he certainly is in need of sleep.

“So, care to explain why I’m driving you to my trailer?”

You stare at your best friend’s side profile, then the trees just outside, then back to him - then back to the trees. For a moment, you imagine running away into those trees and away from each law dictated by the little book your parents hang over you.

You turn back to your friend, “Eddie?”

He glances at you and hums.

You know he isn’t religious, but even so - you don’t have to be religious to hate something. What if he thinks it’s weird?

What if he’s disgusted?

What if he’s only okay with it so long as he can leer?

No, you know Eddie. He may not be the smartest person you’ve ever known, but he’s much wiser and so much kinder than anybody else in Hawkins.

“I- “ your eyes clench and you bury your fidgeting hands into your stomach in hopes it would kill the nerves. Anything to kill the nerves, just for a moment.

“I - I’m… gay…”

You aren’t sure what you were expecting when you blurted that out to Eddie, but his sarcasm certainly wasn’t on the list.

“Wow? Really?” his voice is flat and when you look at him, he’s shaking his head. He turns to you and grins, “You made me watch Desert Hearts with you. Twice!”

“It’s a love story! Everyone loves a love story!”

“Yeah, but not usually a lesbian love story,” Eddie turns into the trailer park and sighs as the van is shut off, “I’m sorry - “ he faces you completely, “do you want me to do that again? More surprised this time?”

“Stop,” you swat his arm and he rubs the area as though it actually hurt, “This is serious. I don’t know what to do.”

Eddie holds up a hand and puts up three fingers, “I can tell you one of three things. What you wanna hear, what your parents would say, or what I actually wanna tell you. Which do you want?”

You know what you want to hear. Keep the status quo and don’t reach out. If you hear that, then you’re afraid you’ll actually do it, and deep down, you think you’re more afraid of living a life of lies and internalized hatred than you are about anything this town could do to you.

You respect your parents. And you respect Eddie. But between them, you think Eddie’s had your best interest in mind more than they have. He makes a show of begrudgingly watching Desert Hearts (though you did see him tearing up by the end), sure, but if you’d even suggested it to your parents - you would probably be homeless, at best. Eddie knows you - the real you - and he cares about you.

“What do you actually want to tell me?”

“I think you should be safe, but be yourself,” he reaches out and takes one of your hands in his, “I don’t think you should tell your parents, but I do think that you should go back to her.”

The her that always grabs the chemicals in chemistry because you hate getting out of your seat. The her that offers to carry your books during school. The her that doesn’t ask why you two never meet at your house. The her that’s a lovingly geeky member of the school band. The her that works right across the street from you.

“It isn’t safe right now, but I just know that one day it’ll be better. For now, you have to be careful about who you’re yourself to, but you shouldn’t hide completely.”

“I have a crush on Robin Buckley,” you murmur.

“You make me drive you to all the football games just so you can see her perform at halftime - and she doesn’t even have a solo. I figured you might fancy her.”

“How will I be able to ask forgiveness when I know I’m sinning?”

There’s a sigh before Eddie puts up both hands, folding them at the palm and pushing them together as if to kiss, “If this a man and a woman, is it a sin if they kiss?” you shake your head, “Alright, and are they going to heaven just because they’re a man and a woman who kiss?” once again, you shake your head, “And didn’t God make them that way?” you nod this time, “Okay - now pretend this is you and Robin. Didn’t God make you two this way?” you nod, “And if straight people aren’t going to heaven just for being straight, why does it make sense for gay people to go to hell just for being gay?”

“Father says- “

“‘Father’ reads from a book that’s been translated a million times over a million years. Some shit’s bound to be fucked up,” Eddie pats your head, “Okay, precious?”

“Knock it off,” you huff and brush his hand off of you. Your fingers twist into the material of your shirt as the images of her, lonely, at the pier flash into your mind, “I blew her off. What should I do?”

“Apologizing tomorrow, I think, is your best course of action,” he starts to unbuckle but you latch onto his forearm before he can.

“No, what would be romantic?” you let go of him as he turns to look at you again, “I want to do something to show her I’m sorry, not just say it.”

“I- I don’t know,” he sighs, “Do something stupid like in that movie.”

You look out the windshield and Eddie can only watch the gears in your head turn. The way your brows furrow and how your fingers tap at the dashboard of his van.

“Hey,” Eddie taps the side of your head, “I have an early deal tomorrow, so if you’re gonna need me to drive you around, make your mind up quick.”

“I do need you to drive me around,” you nod quickly, “The Garden, take me there - and Family Video,” the van thrums back to life as Eddie turns the keys, “and then to Robin’s house.”

“Yet again, I’m playing chauffeur,” Eddie mumbles under his breath, but he doesn’t put up a fight as he drives out of the park.

…

You wrangle the keys to the store from your pocket and wave Eddie inside as you unlock the doors. Eddie bonelessly falls into step with your plan despite his initial whining, you take him by the shoulders and squeeze, “You know what violets are, right?”

“I’m not totally stupid.”

“Okay, I’m trusting you to arrange a small bouquet of violets while I get a movie from Family Video, if you mess up - I won’t tutor you anymore.”

Eddie wasn’t afraid of failing because you stopped tutoring him, but he didn’t want to vocally tear through your thin threat - so he nods and takes the keys you held out. You cheer, racing out of the shop and down the street to Family Video.

Family Video managed to keep ahead of its one competitor in town by one factor. It wasn’t that they had the best selection or the broadest shelves, it was that they stayed open one extra hour.

They closed at eleven.

And right now it was 10:54 at night and Steve Harrington was glaring at you through the glass store windows.

“Desert Hearts,” you rush to the romance section before Steve can even greet you, “Desert Hearts, Desert Hearts.”

“Hasn’t been checked in, yet,” Steve pauses your frantic searching and digs through the pile of returned tapes at his side, he holds up the tape as you come to the counter, “Can’t rent it to you.”

“Steve, please,” you’re certain you look absolutely deranged with the way you’re gripping onto his wrists with wide, pleading eyes, “It’s an emergency.”

“How dire?”

“If I don’t have that movie, I think I’ll die,” your eyes flicker away from him and then back, “Do you know Robin?”

Robin promised to update him about your shared evening and the store hasn’t gotten a single call. Yet here you are, high-strung and skittish.

“How do you know Robin?” his eyes narrow at you.

“Steve,” you want to snatch that tape from his hand and it’s taking every inch of good faith within you to not do so, “please, I need this movie.”

“Fine, but I’m hearing all of the context tomorrow.”

“Of course,” you grin when he finally hands over the tape, “Thank you, thank you, thank you, Steve!”

Before the glass doors slam shut, you can hear Steve shout after you, “If she comes to me in tears, you’re dead!”

Eddie’s locking up The Garden as you’re running up to him, you catch the keys he tosses you and once you’re both back inside his van, he gingerly hands you the bouquet he threw together. It’s not bad for someone who has only ever watched you put flowers together.

…

If the cops in Hawkins actually patrolled at night then you’re sure Eddie would’ve been pulled over enough times for every resident in town. You have to hold the handle above the door as he speeds to the Buckley home.

He slams the breaks right at the curb to Robin’s house and you’re nearly sent through the windshield. You throw the door open and hop out with the flowers and movie in hand, but before you can shut the door, Eddie calls to you.

“Good luck,” he pounds his fists against the steering wheel, “but if things don’t go well, call me and I’ll pick you up.”

You give him a thumbs up and wave him off as he drives away - at a much more mellow pace than earlier, might you add.

You’ve seen the Buckley home many times. Countless days spent here meant to be study sessions that turned into nights of doing each other’s nails and hair and testing new chapstick flavors and throwing fashions shows that you’d wished would end in both your clothes in piles on the floor.

But it’s so much more daunting this time.

The lights are off - except for one. The one at the very top room to the right, the resting place of your heart: Robin Buckley’s room.

You make your way underneath that window like a moping puppy in the rain. You take up a rock and toss it at Robin’s window.

Then another.

And another.

And just as it’s looking like you’ve lost your chance, Robin peeks through her peachy curtains and her eyes widen.

You can see faint black tear tracks drawn over her cheeks and it feels like hellfire ignites in your chest knowing you did that. You hold up the hand fastened around a tape and a hastily made bouquet of violets.

Robin quietly opens her window and leans out of it to whisper-yell at you, “What are you doing here?!”

You whisper-yell right back, “I’m sorry! I talked with a friend and I- “ you chuckle but nothing’s funny, “Everything’s different! Can you let me up, please?”

She ducks back into her room and then returns to point at a shed to your left, through the hazy dark you can barely make out a ladder leaning into the shed’s wall.

With only one hand, you climb the ladder and you’d do it infinitely more times if it meant you could land at Robin’s side in the end. You hold out the violets and Robin takes them. Heat rushes your skin as she inspects the flowers, your nerves light up and you wish you could sit down, but you’re too afraid to break the momentary serenity.

“Why’d you come back?” she thumbs one of the soft petals, almost like she’s making a point to avoid your eyes.

“I spoke with a good friend,” you take a step forward, both hands latched tightly to the tape in fear that the entire room would fade away if you let go, “I’m scared, but I can’t lose you, Robin Buckley,” you want nothing more than to softly kiss away the pout on her lips, “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Doesn’t the church think God should be before all other things?”

“I think so,” you nod and take another step closer, this time Robin looks at you and you feel like you’re finally seeing the heaven that your father reads about. Her freckles and her lips and her cheeks and the way her hair falls, you want it all and you hope that the day you lose her is the day the world falls apart, “but I don’t really give a damn.”

“Wow,” she grins, placing a hand over her heart, “The sweet pastor’s daughter? Swearing? And for sacrilege no less?”

“Yeah, well,” you chuckle, feeling her gaze spark electricity in your veins, “the sweet pastor’s daughter is a lesbian.”

Robin wipes at the remnants of her mascara tears and holds out her hand for the movie you’re holding, “I saw this, you know?”

“I didn’t, but - I figured it would be something you’d like. It’s sweet.”

“I like the ending.”

“With the train?” you suggest, clasping your hands together. There’s only one ending, but Robin graces you with mercy.

“Yeah,” she nods, “with the train.”

Robin comes forward and takes your cheek in her hand just like she had at the pier, and this time you’re determined to stay planted right where she wants you. You reach up and card your fingers through her messy hair as she brings you forward.

“You know,” Robin whispers against your lips, “I really hated Eddie for always hanging off you.”

You giggle and tenderly press your forehead to hers, “I hated Steve for following you around all the time.”

“Yeah, I did, too,” she jests before finally taking the leap you wish had happened years ago - when she walked into freshman year integrated science and sat next to and complimented your shoes.

She closes the gap between you two and you’re finally having a kiss that means something. Like little fireworks bursting beneath your skin - kind of finally meaning something. Robin tastes like bubblegum and cherry chapstick and you wish that every kiss you have can taste like this.

You wish that every kiss you have can be with Robin Buckley - in her sunset bedroom with a bouquet of violets.

#robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x you #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #robin buckley oneshot #happy pride gays

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under-the-cherrytree · 1 year

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This isnt a fic but enjoy

Life is a game. A game of who is able to come out on top. That is always what she thought. Marie Albrechi came from a high class family, having everything she could ever want in her life. While being the youngest child and only girl out of her siblings, her chances at inheriting her family's name and wealth was almost impossible. However, her parents brought her up a proposal one day. An uprising of the low class was forming, claiming that the laws were unjust, and the leaders needed to be snuffed out and stopped. They suspected a young man named Ernest Ledger was a potential leader in this revolution and they wanted Marie to pose as a woman named Nancy Adair and get information from him the best she could. If she failed the mission, she would be disinherited from the family and left in the streets but if she succeeded, she would be the one inheriting the family legacy. They warned her that if she failed, she would be better off staying in the town and claiming she was Nancy Adair till she died. Marie took her parents up on their offer, posing as the girl named Nancy.

“Hey, Nancy, can I take you somewhere? I want to show you something that's important to me” Ernest turned to the girl, pulling her out of her train of thought.

“Something that’s important to you? May I know what it is?” She moved to the edge of her seat.

“Not yet, I think a surprise would be a good way to end this date” He chuckled.

“So you finally admit this is a date?” She smiled in amusement.

“What? You didn’t know?” He stared at her shock before she playfully hit his shoulder, making him laugh.

“You two lovebirds have been flirting here for over an hour, the bakery closed twenty minutes ago” A woman walked over to her table, smiling brightly. She wasn’t wearing her normal uniform anymore. Nancy blushed as her partner only laughed.

“Sorry, Mrs. Barlowe, we will get out of your hair now.” He stood up, taking Nancy’s hand.

“Today is your one day off and you choose to spend it at the place you work” The older woman laughed.

“What can I say? I just love my job. See you tomorrow, Mrs. Barlowe”

“See you tomorrow, Mr. Ledger.” She waved the two off and they walked down the road.

“How long is the walk to this mystery place?” She asked.

“We will be there shortly, don’t you worry!” He held her hand, bringing her closer to him. She felt her heart flutter. She hates to admit it, but she has grown feelings for the person she needs to exploit. It upset her thinking about it. If she even wanted to be with him it meant that she would have to throw out her family and money. By law, the poor and the rich can’t be together. Let’s not forget that he could potentially be leading the uprising against her own family’s demise.

“And we are here!” He pointed to a small clock shop.

“This the place?” She looked over to him with a confused expression. The place looked old and the sign wasn’t completely together.

“Yes it is” he took a key out of his pocket and unlocked the door, looking back towards her. “Shall we go in?”

“Alright…” They both entered the small shop.

“Hold on… the light switch is back here and… there!” He quickly turned the switch on and suddenly the lights filled up the whole clock shop. She looked at all the clocks in awe, astonished by the craftsmanship. The clocks were all made out of wood and it surprised her to see such things. She grew up in her house where they had fancy clocks that she paid no mind to. The cogs on the clocks sat on the outside, naked to the eye. Everything that made it tic was visible and easy to break.

“Do you like it?” Ernest smiled up at the clocks.

“They are very pretty…” she replied, still fascinated looking at all of them. He laughed as he walked over to her, taking her hand in his. She tensed up as she looked up at him. Her face began to heat up and she looked away.

“My father was a skilled clockmaker.. Everyone in the town loved his clocks. The shop hasn’t opened since he passed. I haven’t had the strength to sell them.” Ernests smile turns into a frown.

“I’m so sorry… how did he pass?”

“He had a…” He stopped for a moment, taking in a deep breath “Well, he had a disease and neither one of us made enough money to afford a real doctor. Instead of telling me about it, he kept quiet and he collapsed one day.” The girl felt her heart tighten hearing his words. Hospitals and doctors were only available for the wealthy. If you didn’t make a certain amount of money a year, you couldn’t even be admitted into the emergency room.

“I am so sorry… that sounds awful.” Ever since she came to this town, she only felt more pain for these people. She had her own goal to accomplish but does she even support her family’s movement anymore?

“Anywho! Would you like something to drink? I bought some tea if you would like some” His mood quickly changed.

“Sure, thank you”

“You can check out the shop while I make the tea. I’ll be just a moment!”

“Alright then.” He walked off and Nancy decided that this was her time to search around the house. She noticed a closed door which she assumed to be Ernests room. This shop was rather small and he somehow found a way to live in it. She couldn’t understand how someone could live happily in this condition but Ernest never seemed to mind. He couldn’t possibly be happy with his life, could he?

She entered the room, looking around curiously. A small bed was in the center and a desk facing a wall. She rushed over to it, hoping he had some documents or anything talking about the uprising against the upper class. She started to shuffle through papers, becoming rather frustrated when she stumbled upon nothing. She couldn’t find one thing talking about rebellions or the upper class.

“Did you find anything interesting, Marie?” She felt her blood run cold hearing that name. She turned around to see Ernest leaning on the doorframe, a smile on his face.

“I don’t know who you are talking about.” She said firmly, trying to fake a smile. Her heart was beating faster by the second.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t find out for myself? Did you really think I wouldn’t find out that you were Marie Albrechi?” He entered the room and walked to his nightstand and pulled out a newspaper. The newspaper has a photo of her and her family two years earlier as they were boarding a train. She stood further in the back and while her face was slightly blurred, it was still recognizable. “This was the most recent photo I could find of you in the paper. However, you keep your hair back and it was longer then.”

“How… How long have you known?” She looked up at him, her face full of dread.

“Ever since we first met. I noticed the way you looked at the people on the streets. You said you came from a low class family yet you looked at them in disgust. You aren’t the best actress, you know”

“And you didn’t tell anyone? Why haven’t you told your revolutionists?!” She raised her voice

“Well because as time went on, I started to notice more good in you. Your look of disgust turned into a look of empathy.” He stepped closer to her, placing the newspaper on the bed “besides… My own feelings got in the way as well. I love you, Marie. You can help me fix the law, help the poor and dying! Please, Marie, I know you want to do something…”

“You… You are using me! You don’t actually love me! You want to expose me for my wealth! You want me to trust you and betray my family! Well I will inherit my family name and I will be worthy to be called an Albrechi!” She shouted and Ernest frowned.

“Marie… You are looking at this wrong. I do love you. You mean more to me than you will ever know. We just can’t be together if you choose this path!” She could hear the pain in his voice as he prayed she would see things his way. Deep down he knew she was too stubborn to actually listen to him.

“Choose the path that is right for me! You just want to take me down, take a member of a high class family out! You never actually loved me! This was all a lie!”

“You are frantic, please, I need you to think rationally!”

“I am, Ernest. I know what I’m doing so don’t you underestimate me!” She put her hand under her dress and pulled out a small, two round pistol and faced it to him. “I am not afraid to kill you if I have to.”

Ernest grinned, amused with the situation. “Are you actually going to shoot me? Do you have the heart to shoot the man you love?”

“I will, Ernest, don’t test me!! I will kill you right now and continue my mission if I have to!” She glared at him, her eyes filled with tears.

“I don’t think you will do it, Marie, you are head strong but you wouldn’t go as far as to kill me.”

“You shouldn’t doubt me. It could be the death of you.” She held back tears, not wanting to look weak in front of him. She was supposed to be the one to take care of the uprising but she fell for one of the leaders in the process. She was pathetic. And now she can’t even finish her job.

“Marie…” Ernest walked over to her, pushing her gun down to her side. “I understand it can be hard, but we can find a solution to this together, okay?”

Just as he finished speaking, she raised her gun and hit him on the forehead with the steel butt of the gun. Ernest stumbled to the ground, placing his hand on the gash. He looked at his hand as it had fresh blood on it and his eyes widened in shock. Marie’s face turned pale realizing what she just did.

“I-I’m sorry… I…” she couldn’t form words. She took this opportunity to run. She ran out of the bedroom and out of the clock shop. She ran as fast as she could back to the hotel she was staying at, tears running down her face.

Ernest, now alone, stood up and sat on the bed. Blood was running down his forehead. He went into his closet, grabbed a medical bag and addressed his wounds. He winced in pain as he washed the wound and placed a big bandage on it. He sat back down on the bed, picking up the newspaper.

“Marie Alberechi…” he smiled as he looked at her photo. “You are quite the stubborn one.”

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zawazawanightmares · 2 years

Text

Hata no Kokoro & Boyfriend

You, Hata no Kokoro, are connected to Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin] Your partner selected the 18+ server. Your partner has a starter. Type /starter or tap here to see it.

Hata no Kokoro: /starter

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: 19M https://imgur.com/a/FIt4odq

Hata no Kokoro: Hm...hello.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Beep! *He lifts a hand to give her a peace sign*

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Bee bop?

Hata no Kokoro: Beep...bop. Boo boo beep bop beep bop.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Beep bop be bo bee bee pi!~

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Hahaha!

Hata no Kokoro: Ha ha. Beep beep pi bo boop beep.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Bee bee bee. Hmph! Spoken like a true professional! Bo pee bo.

Hata no Kokoro: Thank you. I have just heard this language but I'm trying my best. Beep bo pi boop.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: It's not a language, bzzrp. If it is, it's only for me!

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Bop. It doesn't mean anything!

Hata no Kokoro: It doesn't? Oh. I was under the assumption that we were communicating. Beep.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: We were! Just not like, uhhhhhh.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Coherently?

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: I can't explain it, my spectrum is way too diverse. Bop.

Hata no Kokoro: Ah. Then I have so much left to learn.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Learning is for chumps.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: I hate learning!

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Though-

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: I only beep because sometimes I just don't know what to say.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Or how to react. So I just play dumber.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: And beep! Bop. Skebop.

Hata no Kokoro: Not knowing what to say...I can emphasize with that.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: You can beep if you want to. It usually makes people mad at me. Be bop.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: ... it's also like a verbal tic thing. Bzzr.

Hata no Kokoro: Beep. Beep bop pi.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Skeskebop! Be bop ba eee!

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Do you sing?

Hata no Kokoro: I do. But not often...people find it creepy.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Why!!

Hata no Kokoro: Because I don't emote during it, regardless of the notes I'm hitting.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Who cares!

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Sing with me! Beep!

Hata no Kokoro: Okay. What song do you want to sing?

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Let's just make one up as we go. Try to feel it from your musical soul! Or whatever you have in there! *He pulls his mic from his pocket to start the song off at a quick pace, though certain longer chords sound pretty nice from him. When it's her turn, he holds his mic towards her to imply it's her time to go.*

Hata no Kokoro: *inhales and harmonizes like a Enka singer without changing her facial expression*

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: *BF is instantly fascinated by this unexpected response, and decides to go along with it anyways, harmonizing and spitting more chords at her, pulling his mic back.*

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: *HE seems to be having a BLAST!*

Hata no Kokoro: *is enjoying this even if she doesn't show it on her face; keeps singing while Boyfriend spits chords at her*

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: *It seems to push BF outside of his normal style, because his chords get longer and more enunciated. Unfitting of a young man who is dressed like a wanna-be rapper, but he keeps up very well.*

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: *He ends up singing with her for about six straight minutes before he stops, huffing, and covering his throat.*

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: I hit too high chords~!!

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Baller! Great job!

Hata no Kokoro: *blushes while her face remains blank* Really?

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Yes! *He offers her a peace sign with his free hand*

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Amazing!

Hata no Kokoro: *returns his peace sign and finally smiles* Thank you.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Beep beep! What's your name?! We've got to sing again in the future. But not right now- my throat hurts!

Hata no Kokoro: Kokoro. Hata no Kokoro. And you?

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: That's a long name... I didn't know we were being so formal. But uhhh.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Everyone calls me Boyfriend, that's my singing name, but ... my name is Kare!

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Hatsune Kare.

Hata no Kokoro: Alright. Would you like me to call you Boyfriend or Hatsune?

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: BF or Kare! Super not formal, haha!!

Hata no Kokoro: Then I will call you Kare. Is that alright?

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Yes! That's alright, bop bep.

Hata no Kokoro: I will see you again, Kare. I want to...sing again.

Boyfriend [Friday Night Funkin]: Okay! We're friends now, if you ever spot me out and about come say hi!

Hata no Kokoro: I will. So long for now.

You left the chat

#hata no kokoro #boyfriend

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lucyllawless · 2 years

Photo

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extasiswings · 3 years

Text

In true fashion, dealing with my saltiness by writing through it. Did someone call for a Big Sister Intervention Hour featuring one Sophia Diaz? Because personally, I think it’s what we all need.

Eddie gets the text on a Thursday night after a long shift. He’s on the couch next to Ana when his phone buzzes—

Coming to LA end of next week for a work thing, dinner/drinks Friday at my hotel?

He knows Ana sees, even if she doesn’t ask, and before he can stop himself he asks—

“Do you want to meet my older sister next Friday?”

He can’t explain why his chest feels tight in the silence before she agrees.

He can’t explain why it stays tight even after she does. But he texts Sophia back and sets a time and later that night, when he’s in bed alone, staring up at the ceiling, he breathes until the tight band around his lungs finally loosens.

A week later, the three of them meet on the patio of the hotel bar—

His heart is racing as he hugs his sister and then steps aside and introduces Ana. He doesn’t know what to expect—there was never a lot of love lost between Sophia and Shannon, and she’s always been a little protective—but Sophia just smiles and says it’s a pleasure to meet her and they sit and—

Eddie finds himself relaxing the longer they all talk, breathing a tentative sigh of relief—

At least until Ana excuses herself to use the restroom and the smile drops off Sophia’s face the instant she’s out of sight.

“Eddie, what are you doing?”

“I—“ Eddie’s stomach twists and he reaches for his water glass for lack of anything better to do with his hands. “I don’t understand what you mean—I thought you were having a good time. Don’t you like her?”

“Yes, I think she’s very pretty and very nice,” Sophia replies, her tone and the look on her face unchanging. “But what are you doing?”

He swallows and tries not to shift under the scrutiny.

“I’m dating,” he replies, shoulders tensing. “A perfectly wonderful woman. Is there a problem with that?”

“Uh, yeah, I’ll say,” Sophia shoots back. “Do you even know her? Does she know you? Do you have anything in common? Because I feel like I’ve been sitting here with two pod people play acting at being in love.”

Eddie’s jaw tics. “Of course we know each other, we’ve been dating for four months—“

“She calls you Edmundo.” His sister scoffs. “Nobody’s called you Edmundo regularly since you were seven and were able to ask them not to except for abuela. Last I knew, you still corrected anyone who called you that outside of family.”

“It’s just a name,” he argues. “It doesn’t matter. She’s a—“

“Wonderful woman, I got that,” Sophia interrupts. “But what do you really know about her? What do you like about her? Tell me that right now and I’ll shut up and butt out.”

“I—“ Eddie clears his throat and takes a drink. “She’s smart, she’s beautiful, she’s good with Christopher, she’s a great cook—“

“See, that just sounds like you’re ticking boxes off the Good Potential Wife checklist,” Sophia points out. “What do you like about her? What about her makes your heart race? Your breath catch? What are her little quirks that you find adorable? What about her specifically—not a generic list of traits that could apply to anyone—makes you want to be with her?”

Eddie opens his mouth to tell her off, to answer all of her stupid questions—because he absolutely can answer them, he can—

—but no words come to his tongue. His throat closes up. His mind goes blank.

“I—she’s perfect,” he manages finally, but he feels how weak it is even before his sister just hums and nods once.

“That’s what I thought,” she replies. “She’s perfect...on paper, right? She’s perfect. But Eddie...that doesn’t mean she’s perfect for you.”

“We’re good together,” Eddie insists, even as his stomach twists, even as Sophia’s dark eyes feel like they’re seeing right through him, stripping him bare, holding up a mirror so he can see himself.

Sophia lets out a long breath and reaches for her purse before pushing back her chair.

“Eddie, you’re my brother and I love you, which is why I’m going to tell you what you need to hear even if you’re not going to want to hear it, okay?”

She doesn’t wait for a response before she says—

“If I learned anything from watching you with Shannon, it’s that you don’t need a wife to play house with—you need a partner. Someone who knows you—the real you, not whatever weird sanitized version of you I just sat through dinner with—someone who is capable of really having your back. Someone who makes you better, not smaller. Someone who makes you happy.”

“I am happy.” But even as he says it, the words taste like ash on his tongue.

Sophia rolls her eyes and drops a few bills on the table to cover her share of the check.

“I’m your sister. I’ve known you since the day you came out of the womb. Don’t lie to me. It won’t work.”

She stops next to his chair and kisses his cheek. “You can tell Ana I said it was nice meeting her but I wasn’t feeling well. Call me later.”

And that’s—

Eddie slumps back in his chair and rubs his hands over his face. And he thinks. What does he know about Ana really? What does she really know about him?

Surface things—basic details. Where they were born, where they grew up, siblings, jobs. She knows he was married and that Shannon died, but when it came to talking about their separation he found himself reaching for the old half-truth that Shannon left for a few years to take care of her mother rather than the reality that she only spent six months doing that and just never came back. She knows about his medal because of show and tell, but she’s never asked about his scars and he’s never wanted to explain in any detail, he doesn’t talk about the nightmares he still gets sometimes. He doesn’t talk about the spiral he went down when Shannon died or how he came out of it. He doesn’t talk about how his parents didn’t want him to move to LA or how they’ve never trusted him with Christopher—

Nothing difficult. Nothing complicated. Nothing dark. With Ana he’s a version of himself who has it together all the time, who is always strong and in control and competent.

Sanitized. Like Sophia said.

And the thing is...Eddie doesn’t think he wants to show her any of those pieces of him that are less than polished, shiny, clean. Not now.

Maybe not ever.

“You okay, Edmundo?” Ana’s hand falls to his shoulder and he jumps. “Where’s Sophia?”

God, but Sophia was right about that too—when did he stop feeling comfortable correcting her?

He clears his throat.

“She wasn’t feeling well,” he lies quietly. “But she said it was nice meeting you.”

Ana’s hand slips off of his shoulder as she sits down again, a resigned look flickering across her face.

“She didn’t like me.”

Eddie sighs. “She did, she just...”

“Didn’t like me with you?” Ana fills in. She bites her lip and nods. Then she asks—

“What are we doing here, Edmundo?”

“Eddie.” It slips out and her eyebrows raise slightly.

“Eddie,” she corrects. “It looks a little like you want to run in the opposite direction as fast as possible.”

Eddie swallows hard. “You’re a wonderful woman, Ana—“ he starts, and she shakes her head, pushing her chair back.

She kisses him once, and it feels like goodbye even before she says—

“It’s okay. We don’t have to do all that.” Her thumb glides over his lower lip and the corners of her mouth turn up faintly before she pulls her hand away.

“I hope you find what you’re looking for,” she says quietly. “You deserve that too.”

And just like that, Ana Flores walks out of his life.

It doesn’t hurt. Instead, he can breathe. Which really says it all.

Eddie pulls out his phone.

Get back down here, you’re buying my drinks for the rest of the night, he sends.

Be there in five, Sophia replies. Followed by—

Proud of you.

He sends back an eye-roll emoji and a middle finger and gets a heart and smiley face blowing a kiss in return.

“What are we drinking?” Sophia asks when she slides into Ana’s abandoned seat and waves over the waiter.

“Can we get two tequila shots please?” Eddie asks the man, and Sophia laughs.

“Just like old times,” she says.

“Yeah, but this time it’s my breakup and I’m not holding your hair back at any point tonight,” Eddie shoots back.

His sister knocks her shoulder into his.

“You’re gonna be okay, kid. I know it.”

Eddie looks back at the entrance like he can still see Ana there, then back at Sophia.

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “I think so.”

#chapel writes #eddie diaz #sophia diaz #911 fic #alexa play potential breakup song

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moonbeam-writing · 3 years

Text

Darling

๑ Requested by ๑ Quick Note: Slightly ties into a fanfiction I'm planning on writing and it's helping me sort out my thoughts and things. :) ๑ Characters: Kirari Momobami (Kakegurui) ๑ Warnings: Angst, Life Plans are mentioned. (There is a happy ending, though!) ๑ Word Count: 2,293

—

Power had never been your thing. It was something you had never really found yourself wanting, nor was it anything you looked for in a partner. You had seen what it could do to people and it had never interested you in any way. Then you met Kirari Momobami.

The power she held wasn't what attracted you to her, but rather what that power had given her. Kirari was confident, charming, and graceful, something you had never really thought yourself to be and you couldn't help but be drawn in by it. She was incredible in the eyes of many people, however, no one thought as highly of her as you did.

Kirari, on the other hand, wasn't too sure how she had come to be as interested in you as you were with her. You had caught her eye because you were very quiet and subtle about everything you did. You were nearly under her radar and that had absolutely astonished her. She had eyes and ears everywhere, yet there wasn't much that she knew or heard about you.

The first interaction the two of you shared was when she called you into her office one day.

Your nerves were skyrocketing by the second as you silently followed behind Sayaka who seemed oddly irked by your presence. That was the only feeble distraction you had from your nerves. Sayaka had always been so indifferent towards everyone as far as you were concerned, so seeing her seem bothered by you was unexpected.

The gentle knock on the door and the clear yet quiet 'come in,' from the other side was what fully shook you away from your thoughts, yet not the butterflies causing chaos in your stomach. You still couldn't figure out just why you were in the situation you were at that moment, you had done everything in your power to lay low and stay out of the way, so why did she want to talk with you?

"Ah, (Y/N), there you are." She spoke as though she had been actively looking for you or as though you had taken long.

"Madame President." Your voice came out stiffer than you expected, but you were torn between being intimidated or star struck by the girl in front of you. There had been times you thought about how meeting her would go, assuming you ever got the chance in the first place, but you weren't sure what to think of this yet. All you could do was hope that this experience would prove to be a positive one.

"Oh, come on. You don't need to be so stiff." Her reassuring words almost seemed as though it was a trick statement, but after a quick moment of silence, you figured that sitting would be your safest bet. Kirari took a seat in front of you before continuing where she left off. "I'm sure you're wondering why you're here, correct?" You feebly nodded. "Before we get to that, tea?"

"No thank you, ma'am." Your hands were folded in your lap, resisting every urge to show any nervous little tics, though you were sure she could tell. She was the sharpest woman you had ever encountered.

"If I may, why do you think you're here, (Y/N)?" The question struck you as odd, as it always had, but you knew you had to answer her.

"I'm not sure." Despite your nerves telling you otherwise, you made yourself look into her eyes. Her beautiful, yet intimidating eyes had always held you captive, though the sight of them was doing nothing to calm your head.

"Exactly." Kirari's lips gained a smirk at the slightly confused look you held. "You haven't done anything wrong, nor are you here to gamble. You're here because you are fascinating to me. You seem to be able to come and go as you please, slipping and hiding under my radar. No one's been able to manage that before."

"Thank you...?" You weren't sure if responding, let alone apologizing, was necessary, however, you did anyway. It only caused her smirk to widen.

"Would you mind if I were to pick your brain for a while?"

From that moment, Kirari knew she had you hook, line, and sinker and she knew you did too.

At first, the two of you shared something of an acquaintance type of relationship and it was obvious to anyone lucky enough to see that you were letting her have her fun. You let her question and tease the hell out of you without getting much in return to the point that you might as well have been her house pet.

Of course, over time, that dynamic evolved a bit more into something that was more give and take.

The time the two of you spent together became more about genuinely being together and less "I wonder what makes the other tick." Kirari, however odd it was to her, was realizing just how much you meant to her and was beginning to see you how you had seen her from the start.

The shift in your relationship was barely noticeable by the time it happened. By the time the two of you were officially together, you had grown incredibly close and comfortable with each other. The two of you would sit together often with your knees gently touching, her hand would sit on your lower back as she'd guide you towards her office.

Behind closed doors or empty hallways, it was all strangely soft with her. Quick kisses, having you on her lap as she looked over paperwork, it didn’t matter. She thought it was strange that someone wanter her rather than her money or the amount of power she had, and Kirari adored everything about you. She loved the way your eyes looked at her and the wonder that they held inside of them, your pretty smile. You were just the most darling girl to her.

All of that brought the two of you to this moment. You had been laying on one of the spare couches reading for one of your classes while Kirari was going through some of the Life Plans that she had recently written up. The room was engulfed in a comfortable silence, something the two of you had grown to appreciate more and more given the natural chaos of the student council. The two of you had a few more hours before anyone was going to show up for the meeting, Kirari having taken you out of your last class of the day a bit early just to get more time before a potential headache. Unlike previous times she had done that, she had come to your classroom herself instead of sending Sayaka to do it for her, which had you worried. Granted, you weren’t going to complain; you loved seeing her, but you also couldn’t help but worry. If there was one absolute about Kirari Momobami, it was that she was terribly unpredictable.

“Darling?” You heard her call from behind her desk.

“Yes, Kirari?” The feeling of anticipation was bubbling in your stomach, though it was neither good nor bad, it was just anticipation of whatever was about to come, though you couldn’t deny the slight anxiety it caused.

“Could you come here for a moment?” You looked up at her from your spot on the sofa, seeing her mysterious and devious smirk, her head resting on her closed fist.

“Of course.” You offered her a small smile despite the obvious nerves that were biting at you.

As you made your way over to her, Kirari had pushed herself away from her desk and uncrossed her legs, motioning for you to sit on her lap. It was always one of her favorite places for you to be thanks to the warm feeling your body would gain from the neck up.

Kirari had you sitting so that her chest was pressed against your back, making you face everything in front of you, including her desk which had a Life Plan sitting on top of it, staring you directly in the face. Though you were sure that it couldn’t be for you, the sight of them still made you feel sick. You always tried to ignore it, however, you were never able to understand how she could be so casual about dictating the lives of others.

“Have you gambled recently, (Y/N)?” You could hear the smirk in her voice.

“I mean, kind of? I humored Yumeko a bit yesterday. We played Uno, but I didn’t lose much, it’ll be easy to pay back.” You were telling the truth; the amount of money you lost was enough to get a few snacks and a drink at a convenience store, so you’d be able to pay it off easily. It was just a matter of remembering.

Kirari chuckled quietly behind you. She already knew that you had done that and she found it just as amusing now as she did yesterday. You squirmed nervously on her lap, furthering her amusement.

“Would you care to open up the Life Plan for me, please? I need to double-check something really quick.” You mumbled a quick yes, opening to the front, waiting for her to tell you if the page needed to be turned.

Though you didn’t want to look, you couldn’t help but let your eyes skim over the page, and Kirari knew this; she had planned it this way. You were always a naturally curious girl, even before the two of you knew each other and it was obvious. Kirari’s smirk widened into a small grin when she felt you tense on top of her. You saw your name.

“Kirari?”

“Yes, darling?”

You took in a breath. “Why. . . Why do I have a Life Plan?” You felt sick and betrayed. You thought Kirari loved you, how could she just sell you off to someone because of something that was so easy to fix? Tears brimmed at your eyes as she felt you start to shake.

Though the feeling was still somewhat new to her, she had felt guilty. She took it a little too far and she felt as though she needed to scramble to fix it.

Carefully, Kirari stood you up and turned you around, pulling you back onto her. Though you kept your emotions rather hidden, Kirari knew everything about you at this point; she knew you were rather sensitive, no matter how hard you tried to hide it and now she made you cry. Again, the somewhat new, guilty feeling was making its presence known and it made her skin crawl.

Your fists were clenched between the two of you, revealing that if you had the strength, you would have pushed yourself out of her hold. You felt sick to your stomach; legs shaky, quiet sobs coming from your lips.

“No. No, no, no, Kirari, please.” Your pleading hurt her. “ I love you so much, it’s an easy debt to pay- please!” If your current situation wasn’t as serious as it was, she probably would have sworn under her breath, but she knew it wouldn’t do any good. It wouldn’t change anything after being said and it would only panic you more.

You couldn’t believe that this was happening. You loved her so much, yet here Kirari Momobami was; carelessly throwing you away. Part of you couldn’t believe it, but most of you knew that it was too good to be true. You supposed that this is what you got for being a realist. You tried telling yourself that you shouldn’t have been crying, but you were just so scared and hurt that you couldn’t help yourself. Where did she get off?

“Breathe, (Y/N).” Kirari’s voice was smooth as she gently rubbed at your back. “Look at me,” she cooed down at you, gently lifting your face to look at you. She hated the ugly, puffy red under your eyes and cheeks had become; she knew it was her fault, and that made it worse. “It was a joke.” Once again, Kirari was wishing things had gone a bit differently; the bewildered look on your face could have been so cute.

“What?” Your voice was so fragile and quiet.

“Well, it was kind of a joke.” Your incredulous look only continued to show your confusion. “I apparently didn’t think about this as well as I thought I did.” Kirari admitted. “I assumed you’d read all of the page. Where it talks about marriage, my name is the one that’s there. I’m sorry, (Y/N).”

It took nearly all of Kirari’s willpower not to let the pet name darling out. She wasn’t even sure you’d want to be with her after this, let alone marry her, and she wasn’t about to make anything worse. At this point, all she could do was hope and that was enough to make her panic herself. “Do that again, and I swear, I will find a way to ruin you.” Your voice was an exhausted huff, though there was a small chuckle in there. The reason for it was unclear, however, Kirari was just going to savor the sound.

“If I do this again, I promise that I’ll give you proof and reliable sources, darling. I am so sorry.” Feeling you relax against her and leaning your forehead into her shoulder was a sign that she could finally relax. You were with her and things were at least a little okay between the two of you. “I love you so much, darling.”

“I love you too, love.” The small, muffled mumble made her squeeze tighter, unwilling to let you go. She’d pester you about marrying her some other day. Right now, she just needed to know that you were okay.

#kakegurui #kakegurui oneshot #kirari #kirari momobami #kirari momobami x reader #fluff #angst #hurt/comfort

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daisybeewrites · 3 years

Text

Academy Blues

oh, deer

word count: 2.8k

warnings: none for this chapter, vague foreshadowing

ship: dousy (daisy johnson x daniel sousa), background Fitzsimmons and Philinda

heyyyyy…. yes i posted it early on Ao3

howeverrr you guys are gonna like this chapter. i just feel it in my bones (bc its fluffy and the angst starts kicking in in the next one)

“You look like Rudolph, Daisy,” Elena greeted.

Daisy took a large swig of coffee, rolling her eyes but smirking. The pair were walking together to Elena’s first class after a tough early-morning spar.

“You’re the one who punched me where I already had a bruise,” Daisy shot back.

“Hey, I already told you I was aiming for the jaw. It’s not my fault you didn’t duck quick enough.”

They laughed as Elena swiped her key card to the comms building. Daisy held the door for Elena, shoving her lightly in the back as she passed.

“Hey!”

“Not my fault you can’t see backwards,” Daisy teased.

It was Elena’s turn to roll her eyes and laugh, slowing to a stop outside May’s lecture room.

“Right. Wish me luck, I heard May was giving a pop quiz today,” Elena grimaced.

“You don’t need any luck. I’ll see ya, Elena,” Daisy replied.

“Yeah, you will!” Elena said, backing into May’s large lecture room.

Daisy watched her wave and sit down with a group of third-years, her perfect french braids swishing behind her, before turning around. Daisy didn’t have a moment to think about where she was going before she ran into a solid wall.

Daisy looked up into a pair of dark chocolate eyes, crinkled at the edges with a small smile. The wall’s hair was ruffled, as if he had just gotten out of bed. He wore black SHIELD sweats and a white t-shirt. The wall was very attractive. She vaguely registered the smattering of books on the ground, her mind more focused on his hands on her shoulders.

“Daisy, are you okay?”

She must have been staring for too long. “Yeah, I’m good! Great! Sorry, Sousa,” she apologized, quickly bending over to pick up his books. She almost dropped them again when his hand brushed hers while she handed the thick textbooks back. She gave him a quick smile, taking a deep breath to compose herself, reciting her affirmations. I am Daisy Johnson. I am an Agent of SHIELD. I can move the Earth. I am powerful. I am in control of myself.

Daniel’s smile grew a bit when he heard Daisy laughing quietly to herself.

“I guess you could say I really swept you off your feet.”

Daniel chuckled at the quip, his hands still on her shoulders. “Yeah. Foot,” Daniel corrected. Daisy furrowed her brows, but ignored the strange comment.

“Right. Well, the bell—” Daisy was cut off by a long, high-pitched bell. She closed her eyes tight, the blaring alarm causing tiny vibrations to travel through her skull. When she opened them, Daniel was still standing in front of her, white tee and black sweats and messy morning hair encouraging just a bit more flirting before he had to leave.

“Wow, look at you. Late! I’m a bad influence on you, Danny.”

Daniel shrugged, glancing at his watch. “S’not the first time,” he murmured lowly, stepping away and giving her a last look before he disappeared into the classroom.

Daisy pretended not to notice her heart rate had risen from it’s usual sixty beats-per-minute to seventy-six beats-per-minute.

Daisy spent the rest of the day absentmindedly completing work in her classes. For some reason, flirting with Daniel felt… different than it had with her exes. Even her exes in SHIELD. Daniel was grounded. He had a calm presence. Being late didn’t phase him in the slightest; Daisy would have internally berated herself for the rest of the day.

She was finishing a short answer assignment from International Law and SHIELD Policy while stretching on the outdoor training grounds when she saw him again: still in sweats despite the heat. He was still walking with same, familiar limp. Then it clicked—’Foot’; the throwaway comment from earlier made much more sense now. He had a prosthetic. Before she could think anymore about that revelation, May called the Ops trainees to gather around her under a giant maple tree. Daisy was the last to get up, hanging towards the back as usual.

“Ops training, eh?”

Sousa turned to Daisy standing beside him, breaking his focus on May to turn to her. “Yeah. I used to be military, remember? 28th Infantry Recon Scout. I figure I’ve got to get at least near the level I used to be before I can go in the field.”

Daisy nodded, her hair caught in a slight breeze. “As long as you don’t steal my crown as the Queen of Spar, Master of Field Ops Physical Training.”

Daniel chuckled quietly, turning his attention back to May, who was explaining today’s exercises.

“Partners,” Daisy breathed. Daisy hated partners, unless it was May. She’d rather condition. It wasn’t that she didn’t like the other trainees, they were great people! But her nerves got the better of her and she ended up holding back, not helping herself or her partner. She knew how to control her powers, how to keep herself from using them while sparring. Whispers of doubt and guilt still invaded, fogging her mind like deadly mist.

You could kill them. It’s happened before…

She was taken back to the moment by Daniel tapping her shoulder. “Partners?”

Daisy reluctantly nodded and motioned to him to follow her over to a thick pad of grass next to a small willow tree.

“So, what exactly are we supposed to be doing? It’s Tuesday, which is usually a mix of breathing and nerve control and focusing on technique, rather than strength.”

Daniel glanced over at the other partners, who were all going through defensive and offensive stances slowly, like tai chi, he thought.

Daisy walked closer to where he had stopped beside the willow, pointing out a pair of partners moving almost in sync.

“They’re focusing on how their breathing can help their fighting. Mentally and physically. If you’re nervous, your heart rate spikes, your brain goes fuzzy and then your body gets sloppy. If you aren’t breathing, your heart rate spikes, your brain goes fuzzy and your body gets sloppy. Breath can make a punch more powerful and a kick more accurate, if you know how to use it. I’ll show you the moves.”

Defensive, offensive, block, strike, block, kick. Daisy continued in a cycle until Sousa could mirror her movements with little effort.

Daisy stopped him then. “Great! You’re a quick learner,” She winked, smiling wide.

Daniel smiled back, “So how do I do the breathing thing?”

Daisy pondered how to explain it for a second. “You have to flow, like water. You control your breathing, you have the power. But at the same time, you have to let the air flow naturally. The moves will align with your breath, don’t force it.”

Daniel nodded, and they were off. It took a minute to get into the groove, but once he did, it felt effortless. Every kick, block, inhale and turn, exhale and strike came naturally. It gave him the opportunity to study Daisy.

Usually, especially in the early mornings in the computer lab, Daisy looked tired. Her brows were drawn slightly, fingers fidgeting, knee bouncing. In the halls she walked briskly and adjusted her bag or checked her watch often, a small tic she didn’t seem to notice. Right now, though, breeze across her olive skin, Daisy looked cool as water.

She felt the earth beneath her. The trees and grass and flowers in the wind. She tuned in to the radio of her surroundings, letting her muscle memory guide her. The forest was really loud. The concrete buildings had a sort of buzz, too. They mixed in her bones like the sounds of a great symphony, low rumbles and high-pitched chittering and long, constant notes that provided a harmony to the undulating melody. The frequencies of each living and non-living thing in the area seemed to be flowing around her, steady.

Daniel softly stared at her as she moved through the flow with him. She was very good at this. He was having a bit of trouble, though he doubted he would be having this much trouble if it wasn't Daisy right in front of him. For an exercise designed to relax them, wasn’t it counterintuitive to partner with the girl that made his heart skip a beat when she smiled?

When May clapped her hands and signaled the end of the session, the tired, sweaty kids gathered around May’s oak tree. The sun was beginning to dip towards the horizon, bringing a glow to each of their faces. Daisy looked radiant.

“Class is dismissed. Tomorrow, we’re conditioning,” May warned. In a quieter voice, May called, “Daisy, can you hang for a second?”

Daisy stepped away from her bag and towards May. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, everything’s fine. I have a question for you. Would you mind giving up your free period three times a week?”

Daisy’s eyebrows raised, no classes that she knew of only took place three times a week. “I want to say yes, but I’d also like to know why?”

“Fair. Top brass called. If you want to be a field agent with powers, you’ve got to practice fighting with them, get comfortable with them. I know everything that happened with Lincoln…” May paused, gauging Daisy’s reaction. When there wasn’t any, May continued. “Your powers didn’t make you an agent, I did.”

May paused, giving Daisy a chance to settle her thoughts before adding, “But I think this is important.”

Daisy slowly nodded. If this was important to May, then Daisy had no problems giving up her free period.

“Who will I train with?” she asked.

May smiled. “Meet Yo-Yo and I behind the garage at seven sharp tomorrow morning.΅

Daisy saluted playfully, wandering to her bag and walking in the direction the other students had gone. She could see them filtering into the cafeteria. A smoothie sounded nice…

The canteen was full of students grabbing plates of chicken and veggie tacos. Daisy was always happy during dinner on taco Tuesday. She grabbed her plate and a small green juice and searched for a familiar pair of heads, warm brown eyes and freckles sitting next to dirty blonde curls.

As she approached, two hands went up, waving. Weaving her way through students, she saw Fitz pat the seat beside him.

“Oi, Dais! I've got something to show you!”

Daisy sat down, her attention drawn to the tiny device on the table in front of her. It was small enough to fit in her hand, but surprisingly heavy for its size. Multiple coloured wires stuck out from various surfaces. Fitz was grinning at her with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. He pressed a button on a small remote that sat on the table. Daisy looked over at Jemma, puzzled. Was something supposed to be happening?

Daisy glanced down at her hand. There was nothing there but a constant weight.

“Fitz! You replicated cloaking!”

Jemma and Fitz immediately shushed her, looking around. “He wasn’t supposed to! It’s above his ‘level’. Professor Weaver practically forbid him.”

Daisy’s eyes widened. This was very Fitz. Tell him he can’t, and he will, just to prove it to himself. Holding it up to eye level and moving it around, Daisy marveled at the seamless invisibility. “What are you gonna do with it?”

Fitz shrugged. He began to explain a number of uses for the device, along with the technical modifications he’d have to make for them to work. She tuned out after Jemma exasperatedly told him they couldn’t train monkeys to be invisible recon scouts.

Her plan to learn something from Fitzsimmons banter was derailed when Daisy noticed a shadow at the corner of her eye. It slipped away as quickly as it came, around the corner of the cafeteria and out of sight.

Why was she getting déjà vu?

“Dais, you alright there?” Fitz asked quietly.

Daisy turned back to him, smiling. “Yeah, I thought I saw something. Probably just tired.”

The sandy blonde boy laughed, “S’only Tuesday, Dais. We’ve got a whole week ahead of us!”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. I’ve got six tests this week!” Simmons countered.

Daisy’s mouth opened in surprise, quickly shut when Fitz made a comment about catching flies. “Wait, so you aren’t excited for the tests?”

Jemma shook her head miserably, her amber eyes rolling. “No. Usually I would be, it’s so odd! But I was studying the other night and reviewing old tests, and my chest felt so heavy and my head started spinning—”

Fitz stopped her by putting his hand over hers, gently reassuring her. Watching the two, Daisy thought her heart might burst, a bubbly feeling rising in her chest.

Jemma turned back to her, considerably less distressed.

“Do you want some help studying?” Daisy offered.

Jemma nodded. “Tonight, 8, the rooftop?”

The group nodded.

At eight o’clock, Daisy carefully climbed out her window and around the corner to the fire escape. The stairs whispered and creaked with the wind, but you would never know anyone was climbing the iron to the roof unless you ran directly into her.

She arrived at the last landing, one floor above her own, and crouched down. She jumped, using small quakes as a make-shift propulsor. Jemma turned her head towards the soft thump of Daisy landing on the roof.

The space was decorated with a jungle of potted plants and fairy lights strung around the ledge, mix-matched multicoloured and shades of white. They cast a warm glow across the spread of notes and textbooks neatly placed in front of Jemma. Daisy approached, pulling out her laptop and a pouch of pens, pencils, highlighters, and white-out.

“Ready for our study date?”

Jemma smiled. “Yes. Fitz should be here any minute.”

The two girls got comfortable, beginning to go over notes and chat idly. Daisy wrote down vocab and key ideas on note cards and organised them by subject. Jemma laughed loudly when Daisy expressed her confusion at the difference between the three biochemistries that she was taking. Suddenly, loud clanging was heard from the side of the building.

“Daisy! Jems!”

The two girls shared a glance at the panicked voice. Fitz.

They rushed over to where he would be coming onto the iron landing, grabbing his hand and helping him over the concrete barrier onto the roof.

Fitz supported himself on his knees, panting. “There's a guy down there. Creepy bastard.”

Jemma and Daisy shared another glance, this one full of concern and trepidation.

Fitz pointed to Daisy. “Askin’ about you, Dais. Your…” Fitz trailed off, drawing waves in the air with his hand.

Jemma rested a hand on Daisy’s shoulder, squeezing slightly. “Go check it out, we’ll be here when you get back.”

Daisy reluctantly jumped onto the metal landing below, resisting the urge to use her powers to cushion her landing. She quickly checked the perimeter of the dorm, then wandered closer to the forest that backed up to the dorms.

If only she had night vision as well as the power to create earthquakes.

A subtle movement caught her eye, a dark silhouette shifting in between the trees. A haze of clouds covered the moon, making the forest darker than usual. Daisy stepped forward slowly, her breath speeding up.

The air seemed electric, the few clouds in the sky bloodred with the remaining rays of sunset. The tall pines and thick oaks were silhouetted black against the sky, branches seeming to reach out to grab the twilight shadows. Daisy threw a quick glance over her shoulder, letting out a relieved exhale when she saw Fitz and Jemma watching over her from the roof.

A twig snapped right in front of Daisy, the treeline only twenty feet away. Daisy felt the echo bounce around the forest. She took a deep breath, steadying her hands and lungs. Something, someone, was right on the other side of those bushes…

“AAGH!”

A deer leapt out of the brush, landing right in front of her. Its large doe eyes stared at her, ears back. It was just a fawn.

Daisy slowly let out a sigh of relief, dropping her arms from where they had come up in front of her. She snorted.

“You’re just a baby. What are you doing in the bushes by yourself?”

Daisy tentatively reached out, the fawn showed no signs of moving. She opened her palm, letting the deer sniff before it bounded away across the field.

Daisy sighed. She felt something was off, like you would the moment before you were struck by lightning. Like any second, something else would pop out of the forest, this time a real threat…

Silence.

Stillness.

Daisy sighed, shaking her head and rubbing her eyes. I just need sleep. If the paranoia has set in, I definitely need sleep.

Daisy headed back to the dorms, the feeling of eyes on her following until she was safely on the roof with her friends.

The twinkling fairy lights lit the rest of their evening, shadows and deer forgotten in the warmth of laughs and starlight.

#daisy johnson #dousy #daisy johnson/daniel sousa #fitzsimmons #jemma simmons #daniel sousa #leo fitz #timequake #fic #philinda #philindaisy #academy au #ashby writes #x reader #agents of s.h.i.e.l.d.#marvel #aos #melinda may

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sherrybaby14 · 4 years

Text

Moral of the Story

Summary: Steve’s girl likes to party all the time and he’s at his wit’s end. Then he meets you.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x female reader.

Warnings: Alcohol, Smut, ANGST

Words: 5k

A/N: This is for the wonderful @captain-rogers-beard challenge. Congrats Doll! My prompt was “Party all the Time” by Eddie Murphy.

The music was a bit louder than you would have liked, but at least the song was catchy. You sipped on your drink as you watched the dance floor, your friend’s waving you over.

With a smirk you shook your head and lifted your drink, far too sober to dance.

“I think they want you to join them?” A voice boomed in your ear.

You did a jump as you turned to see a gorgeous blonde next to you.

“I don’t want to spill my drink.” You ran your hands down your now wet dress.

“Oh Jeez, I’m so sorry ma’am.” He reached for some cocktail napkins. “Let me buy you another.”

“It’s okay.” You began to pat your dress dry. “It’s probably better on my clothes than down my throat. I don’t drink often.”

“Me either.” He gave a warm smile.

“Then why are you in a nightclub?” You turned to the bar, trying to block out the loud music and not have to yell so much. “Here to pick up women?”

“A friend invited me.” His gaze went to the dance floor.

You followed it and saw he was looking at a dark haired man. You couldn’t see his face because it was being covered by a gorgeous brunette. She pulled away and you blinked a few times, she had to be a model, a perfect ten.

“I think your friend is going to get lucky.” You turned back to see his jaw clench up.

“Yeah, it looks like it.” He looked away, there was a pain in his eyes. “If I can’t buy you a new drink how about a cup of coffee?”

“Oh, I don’t think they sell coffee here.” You shrugged.

He erupted in laughter and you glanced around, not noticing the punch line.

“There’s a diner a block away.” He leaned against the bar. “Open twenty four hours. I know I’m a stranger, but I could get out of here and by the looks of it so could you.”

“I’m game.” You put your glass on the bar and started walking to the door.

“I’m Steve by the way.” He held out his hand.

“I know who you are.” You smiled. “I think the whole world knows who you are.”

A confused look spread across his face. The brisk nighttime air made your arm get some goosebumps, but you let out a sigh of relief when the music died down.

“That’s not the reaction I get from most people who know who I am.” Steve grabbed his chin. “Maybe I should grow a beard again.”

“Would you rather I asked for an autograph and a selfie?” You raised an eyebrow, then put the back of your hand to your forehead. “Oh Captain my Captain?”

“Alright, I get it.” Steve laughed. “So what’s your story? I guess your the one whose the stranger here.”

“It’s not like I know everything about you, just the headlines.” You winked. “Workaholic, I love my job, it keeps me busy. In my free time I do the basics, read, watch movies, attempt and fail at the newest workout craze.”

“Pilates man.” Steve pulled the diner door open. “It’s a lot harder than it looks.”

“I fall in every yoga position.” You followed Steve as he slid into a booth. “Zumba was fun, but I’m lacking in rhythm.”

“You?” Steve’s eyes went wide. “You look like you would be a great dancer.”

“I’m great at a lot of things.” You flipped over your mug. “But bad at more.”

“I’m really bad at board games. I flipped the board last time I played Monopoly.” Steve leaned back in the booth. “But I am amazing at tic-tac-toe.”

“Oh yeah?” You reached in your purse and pulled out a pen, drawing the lines on a napkin. “Prove it?”

“Even with all this coffee and stimulating conversation.” You brought your hand to your mouth to stifle the yawn. “Exhaustion is setting in. I’ve got to get to bed.”

“How far do you live from here?” Steve reached for his wallet. “It’s almost 4 am. Can I walk you home?”

“Four am?” You hadn’t checked your phone since you told your friends you were safe after vanishing, that was five hours ago.

Sure enough the device read 3:56.

“Damn.” You grabbed a menu. “Might as well order breakfast then.”

Steve looked shocked, but then nodded in agreement, not pulling a menu. The server took notice and came over.

“I’ll have a meat lovers skillet, side of country gravy, sub American cheese, eggs over easy, wheat toast?” You but the menu back.

“I’ll have the same.” Steve leaned forward.

“Really?” The waitress was confused. “Not the usual?”

“I’m being adventurous tonight.” Steve winked.

“Okay.” She walked away.

“I like the way you know what you want.” Steve leaned back. “Kind of no nonsense. It’s refreshing.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” You laughed. “Maybe when it comes to diner food at 4 am. I’ve been eating my whole life after all.”

“So why isn’t there anyone special in your life?” Steve almost seemed fidgety.

“There’s lots of special people in my life.” You smiled. “I’m very close with my parents, my siblings, have some great friends I’d call family, my coworkers are amazing too.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Steve’s eyes showed a strange wave of vulnerability.

“No reason.” You wished you had a better answer. “I’ve dated plenty, had some serious partners, some not so serious. I guess I’m picky? What about you?”

“The friend who invited me to the club tonight, it was the girl.” Steve gave a pressed smile. “We were very serious, she broke it off about two months ago. Wanted to try being friends. I agreed to give it a go. I don’t see how it’s going to work.”

The perfect 10 brunette. Your heart started to ache for the man. He was heartbroken. It was all over his face, body language. Everything clicked.

“What a bitch.” You brought your hand to your mouth and looked at him with wide eyes.

He laughed and you relaxed.

“There you go, being honest and direct again.” Steve put his elbows on the table. “I don’t think people can be friends with exes. It’s not in the cards.”

“I’ve never tried.” You were more of the it’s done it’s done type. “My philosophy is look forward. The future. Thinking about the past, it’s a dangerous trap.”

“I’m starting to think the same thing.” Steve’s eyes lit up. “She is a big party girl, I mean, she’s a model so sometimes its a networking thing. But I never really fit into her life.”

“Wait, were you guys like a tabloid couple?” You tilted your head. “Can I read all about your breakup on instagram?”

“No!” Steve rolled his eyes. “That was part of the problem. I think she wanted that. Being with me could elevate her career and it made me feel used, so I wouldn’t allow public photos. There’s a few that leaked, but nothing confirming our relationship.”

“Wow, you celebrities are a different breed.” It never once crossed your mind to post about who you were having coffee with.

“I am not a celebrity.” Steve wagged a finger at you.

“Oh I’m sorry.” You brought your hand to your chest. “Historical figure.”

Steve cracked up. His laugh was infectious and you joined, chuckling away.

“Without being too forward young lady,” Steve reached out and grabbed your hand, sparks shooting down your arm. “Could I have your telephone number?”

You knew he was bating you for a joke. But you preferred the natural type.

“Yes.” You reached for your phone, breaking the hand touch. “You can have my number.”

Noon hit and you forced yourself out of bed, six hours of sleep was doable. You began to make your mental checklist of projects for the day while you brushed your teeth.

There was a giddy ness in the back of your mind over last night. He was a cool guy and it was a fun time. Your brain started to think about work. You had to call your parents and check in, probably explain to your friends about where you went, you would leave out the Captain America angle.

You grabbed your phone and your jaw about hit the floor. There was a text from Steve already.

Are you going to say good morning?

You didn’t think you would hear from him for at least a few days. It made you smile and wiggle as you sat on the bed.

Good morning! Or afternoon?

Before you set the device down the reply bubbles started to form. You parted ways seven hours ago. It was a Saturday. This was unexpected. The bubbles disappeared and then reappeared several times. You were on the edge of your seat.

Then your phone started to vibrate. You almost threw the thing, seeing Steve’s name pop up. Instead your smile grew as you slid it to answer.

“Was good afternoon not appropriate? Technically it’s 12:15, that is literally after noon.” You tried to stifle the excitement.

“You want to have a beer with me tonight?” Steve’s voice was just as sexy over the phone. “I would say dinner, but I know you had some things to take care of. There’s this sports bar I love, I promise I won’t spill anything on you and coffee keeps us up too late.”

“I’d love to.” You didn’t see a point in trying to act coy.

“Great, nine o’clock? I’ll text you the address.” Steve’s smile carried over the phone.

“Sounds like a plan.” You ran your hand over your hair and wondered if you could get away without washing it.

“Have a great day. I”ll see you tonight.”

“Bye.” You clicked off the phone and did a little happy dance.

You didn’t see that one coming.

Your phone lit up with Steve’s message right away. You sent a thumbs up emoji. To your surprise, Steve responded:

Emojis, it’s like hyrogliphics are coming back? Why did we skip the sonnets?

You didn’t even think before responding.

You: Shall I compare thee to a Summer’s Day? Thou art more lovely and temperate.

Steve: Sonnet 18, one of the greats.

You: I stole it from Clueless.

Steve: What’s Clueless?

You woke the next morning, at your normal 8 am. Even more thrilled with the date from the night before. It was fun. It was a fantastic time. Of course the texting all day long made the conversation flow right to person-to-person.

“I can’t sleep until noon tomorrow.” You stood up from the bar stool. “Plus I hit my three beer maximum. Maybe once I know you better you can meet four beer me.”

“You’re guarded in the strangest ways.” Steve beamed at you.

“Me?” You were shocked. “I’m an open book. Nothing to hide.”

“Well would this bother you then?” Steve cupped your cheek and before you could react his face leaned in.

Warm lips met yours. You melted into him, your body felt like it was floating. Nobody in the bar paid you any attention as his tongue slid into your mouth before pulling out. A little moan came forward when he pulled away.

There was a devilish grin on his face as he grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles.

“Let’s get you an Uber.”

All you could do was nod in a numb state. This amazing man kissed you. It was like a dream.

You were all smiles as you rolled out of bed, straight to the bathroom. Sundays were your lazy day, but you missed too much yesterday that you had to squeeze some work in. It wouldn’t be too much.

When you left the bathroom you grabbed your phone. Your heart exploded when you saw there was already a text from Steve.

Today you can say good morning. I have faith.

Steve Rogers was perfect. Three dates in a week, not including coffee night. Every other day he wanted to see you. He made you laugh, listened to you, was always available. Sent you little comics you found funny. You giggled at the last gif he sent you of a puppy eating bubble.

You: I’ve got to head into a work meeting. I’ll text you later.

Steve: Knock ‘em dead.

Supportive too. You smiled as you slipped your phone into your pocket. It had only been a week, but you couldn’t remember the last time you connected with someone this way, if ever.

“You’re smiley.” A coworker bumped you with her arm. “It’s almost like you have a glow.”

“Just a happy person.” You shrugged. “How is your son doing? Any luck on that math test?”

“Oh he did much better!” Your coworker dropped her shoulders in relief. “That tutor was worth every penny.”

She continued to talk and you tried to listen, but your thoughts kept drifting to Steve. This was the best week of your life.

The meeting got your adrenaline pumping. You left and went straight to your office, typing away the e-mails, ready to get the new project off the ground. It was almost time to call it a day, the sun was starting to set.

That was when you picked up your phone. Two messages from Steve. Fuck. Guilt set in.

How was the meeting?

Everything okay?

You grabbed your phone and started typing.

You: Sorry work got crazy. Major project. Just leaving now.

Steve: Do you want to over to my place for dinner? Unwind? I can have a meal and some wine for you, straight away?

Unwinding with Steve sounded perfect, plus you were more interested in the version that didn’t involve a meal.

You looked down at your work clothes, your makeup probably long smeared off, but did that matter? Steve didn’t seem to care about your appearance. He wanted you for who you were. And right now that sounded perfect.

You: Do you have ice cream?

Steve: Oh my freezer is overflowing. Any flavor you like. Popsicles too.

You: I’m in. Text me your address?

Every other time you arrived at a paramour’s place for the first time you were nervous. Not this time. Your brain played a slide show of the last week. The way Steve listened, hung on your words, followed up with questions. He made you feel like the most important person in the world.

Your past experiences taught you that people were either fantastic talkers or listeners. You prided yourself on being both, but Steve seemed to fall in that same category.

With a strange confidence you hit the buzzer for his apartment. The door unlocked and you walked up the stairs, speeding up with each step.

When you got to his floor you spotted him hanging out the door, waving at you. This was going to be the hard part.

“Before I step inside, I have to let you know something.” You rehearsed this in your head a few times. “Work was insane today, and I know tomorrow is Saturday, but I have to put in a few hours. This happens about twice a year, not a common occurrence. But as much as I want to, I can’t spend the night.”

“Okay.” Steve nodded and held the door open. “Again I love your honesty.”

You walked in to see all the only lights on in the apartment two candles on the clothed kitchen table. Your heart started to sink at the thought he’d put into it, but then you noticed the meal set out at each end and began to laugh.

“Full disclosure, all I had was some TV dinners.” Steve came behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. “And there’s no ice cream or popsicles. But I can think of something I want for dessert.”

You spun around and put your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a deep kiss. He reached underneath you and scooped you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you, deepening the kiss.

Nothing had ever felt so right in your life. It was as if the cosmos had brought you together.

“You’re too perfect.” You pulled away as he dropped you on the bed.

“You’re a one-in-a-million.” Steve’s breath was heavy as he started to pull at your clothing.

Hands were everywhere, lips randomly touching whatever skin they could. Shoes and socks flying off with pants and shirts. You shoved his boxers down as he unhooked your bra, the feeling of your bare chests pushed together making you shudder.

Steve grabbed your panties and yanked them down as you settled back on his bed. On your back, legs spread, knees up. His arm encircled your thigh as he began to kiss. You moaned and fisted the blanket, lifting your pelvis up inviting his mouth.

He wasted no time and began to devour you. You tried to pay attention to what he was doing, but you couldn’t keep up. Was that his tongue? His lips? You cried out when something slid inside of you.

“FUCK!” Your body convulsed around his mouth.

Your chest heaved while your brain tried to keep up with the pleasure. Steve kept licking, touching, working you. Everything was frenzied. Your head collapsed to the side and you tried to regain control.

“I knew you were primed.” Steve kissed up your stomach. “But you have one more in you.”

He climbed until he was over you, his cock lining up with your entrance. Never had you came that fast from another person.

Steve pushed forward and filled your aching pussy. You squealed and grabbed onto his shoulders. Rolling your body against his.

“That’s it.” He nipped at your neck. “You were meant for me. Never felt this way before.”

You grabbed his face and pulled his lips to your own, enjoying the taste of yourself on him while he railed into you. He returned the kiss and sped up. Slamming his cock, teasing your clit while your g-spot came to life.

There was no hiding your moans and his grunts as your bodies melded together. Your breath started to tighten, and then your muscles started. The edge came fast and you flung yourself over.

Your head went back into the pillow as your screamed, it was impossible to tell if your vision went black since the room was too dark. But Steve let out a grunt and pulled out of you.

Instead of blowing all over your stomach he pushed your head down. You slid down the bed and opened your mouth.

His aim was perfect and for the second time you tasted yourself, enjoying the way he finished in your mouth, letting your lips wrap around his tip. Drinking him all down while your body shook.

“I think I’m falling in love.” Steve pushed forward before pulling out and landing on his back.

You nodded, breathless as you curled up to him. He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close, kissing the top of your head.

You ignored the tears forming in your eyes, fighting them away. If pure happiness existed, this was it. How did you get so lucky?

Steve: I’m going to hug my pillow all night wishing it was you.

You glanced at the clock, it was already approaching midnight.

You: I’m sorry I couldn’t stay. Thank you for a wonderful night and a gourmet meal.

Steve: Get some sleep. I miss you.

You: I miss you too.

You grabbed your pillow. If Steve was pretending his was you, maybe you could do that same. A huge smile on your face as you drifted off.

You woke with a smile. Maybe Smiley could be your new nickname. You grabbed your phone eager to see what Steve had sent. To your surprise, there was no message.

All week long you’d woken up to messages. You smiled even bigger, maybe you’d finally worn him out and the man needed more sleep than you did.

You rolled out of bed to brush your teeth, thoughts filled with nothing but Steve.

Work was so intense, you turned your phone off. No distractions. When the team broke for lunch you flipped it on, your heart racing to see Steve’s messages. When the screen came to life you saw nothing.

Maybe it was wrong? Messages glitched sometimes. You clicked the app open, all you saw was your last message. It said read at 12:03 am.

You shrugged it off. Steve knew you had a big work day. He was being respectful. You thought about texting him, but you had to get back to it and didn’t want to come off as needy. It wasn’t like you could text him all afternoon.

The project finished an hour early, 4 pm on a Saturday. Everyone gave themselves a round of applause and you did a lazy golf clap as you reached for your phone.

Your heart exploded when you saw a message from Steve.

Steve: How was your day?

You: Good. I have so much to tell you!

There was no bubble response, or read receipt. You stared at your phone. Maybe turning it off had been a bad idea.

After saying goodbye to your colleagues and walking to you subway stop your phone dings with a message.

Steve: Can we meet for coffee?

You giggled.

You: Why not dinner? The real kind this time. It was a big day for me! I want to celebrate, you can supply dessert again.

Steve: Coffee. Now? First night?

Maybe he had a big day too. He’d been so supportive of you, it was due to return the favor.

You: Sure. I’ll be there in twenty.

You headed to the other subway line, more than eager for a sleepover tonight.

When you arrive at the diner you scan it, not seeing Steve anywhere. Maybe you beat him here. You were about to grab a random booth when a man in a black hoodie, baseball hat, and sunglasses sticks his hand in the air.

You smile, wondering if this is some Avenger’s mission.

“Are you going as the Unabomber for Halloween?” You slide into the booth. “I couldn’t even recognize you.”

“There’s no easy way to say this.” Steve cracked his jaw. “Ashley called me last night. Very upset.”

“Whose Ashley?” You blurted out the first thought that came to your mind.

“My ex.” He let out a huge sigh. “She’s a mess.”

“The bitch from the club?” You were a little interested in the drama.

“She’s not a bitch.” Steve put his hands on the table and your blood ran cold. “She has some problems. She is working on them. And we have a lot of history and she needs my help.”

“Oh.” You felt like your soul floated out of your body.

“You’re so perfect.” He reached out and grabbed your hands. “But she needs me. You don’t need me. We have a lot of history and I owe it to her to try.”

“Oh.” Everything went numb.

“I wanted to let you know in person and before things got too serious.” Steve squeezed your hand. “If I could take back last night, I wouldn’t. It was perfect, you’re perfect.”

“You already said that.” Your voice was getting tight.

“But I mean it.” He pushed the hood off his baseball cap. “I can’t leave her. Without me, I mean, you saw her at the club that night. She’s a disaster.”

The tears started to boil in your throat they were so deep. You yanked your hands away, thoughts flying to wild to speak clearly. You didn’t know if you wanted to scream at him or plead with him to pick you.

“I hope we can stay friends?” He let out a sigh. “I mean, you’re amazing and you made me so happy this past week. Probably the happiest I’ve been in my entire life. You’re smart, and witty, and beautiful, and you’re everything.”

The way he said week hit home. It was only a week. Not a month, not a year. Just a week. A lot of digs ran through your mind, ways you could make a joke, ways you could state your feelings. But instead you said one thing.

“Sure.” Your brain started to scream at itself.

“That’s such a relief.” Steve dropped his shoulders.

“I had a really long day.” You stood up from the booth. “Talk soon?”

You didn’t look back as you ran to the door, the tears spilling over. With a shaky hand you pulled out your phone, screaming at yourself for being so stupid to develope feelings, but smart enough to do one thing. You highlighted his contact and clicked delete.

Friends, family, whoever would talk had to listen to you cry. You didn’t hold back for them. You made sure they alternated duty. You even took a week off of work.

“If I would have stayed that night, would he have ignored her?” You sobbed to your best friend.

“No hunny.” She ran a hand through your head. “No. You got caught in a weird game.”

Steve: How do you kill a circus?

It’s a random number not saved to a contact, but you know that’s the first text you get from Steve. You know the punchline, but rather than responding you delete it. The last thing you want is to memorize his number.

You would’ve broken down and sent some very dumb stuff you would’ve regretted. It’s only been five days. He should send his girlfriend those jokes, not you.

Three days later you get another.

Steve: How are you?

You think about deleting it, you think about screaming you broke my heart, acting cool like you’re busy, or just gushing about how much you miss him and what a great guy his is.

You: Fine.

Steve: Glad to hear.

You don’t hesitate to delete the thread.

Steve: I miss you.

Your heart races. It’s been two weeks since the night you had the best sex of your life. The tears sting your eyes. You’ve been apart longer than you were together. Did he realize he made a mistake? Was he coming back to you?

You start typing: I miss

But then you stop. No. You had to frame this right. State it right. But what was there to do? Yell at him into loving you? Did you love him? Your heart hurt like it had, but this was wrong.

With a shaky finger you highlighted the number and moved it to block. The sobs came again and you cuddled your phone, regretting your choice.

The day you hit the month mark you were trying not to think about Steve, but then the celebrity hit: CAPTAIN AMERICA ENGAGED! It ran all over the headlines.

Him and his fiance were plastered everywhere. You couldn’t escape. It hit you then. You were a rebound. You were nothing. A temporary step on his life path. It hurt. It hurt more than anything. No ice cream could repair the hole one week with Steve Rogers had created.

“I’m glad we got you out tonight.” Your friend poked you in the side as she screamed in your ear. “What’s it been, months since you’ve been in a club?”

“Yep.” Two, but you tried not to think about how your last time in a nightclub ended, how it could derail your life. “But I’m here.”

You still hated the loud music. Memories of a sports bar with Steve tried to come forward, but you buried them before they could.

“Let’s dance!” She grabbed your hand.

“Not yet.” You yanked it away. “In a few drinks.”

“I’ll wait with you.” She settled next to you. “But that dance floor is inviting.”

The bodies were moving and you scanned the area. Your eyes bulged when you spotted a familiar face, tongue down a mouth.

“Is that…..is that Captain America’s fiance?” Your friend grabbed your arm, you never told them the mysterious Steve’s last name. “She’s not kissing Cap.”

She pulled out her phone ready to take a picture, but you put your hand out and lowered her arm.

A wave of clarity rushed over you.

“His girl wants to party all the time. He buys her champagne and diamonds.” A weird smile settled over you. “He thinks he can fix her.”

That was the problem. You didn’t need fixing. And if you ever did you would figure it out for yourself, with the support of people around you. Steve hit the nail on the head when he said you didn’t need him. You never would.

“Go dance.” You gave your friend a playful spank on the ass.

For the first time in two months you felt like yourself and turned back to the bar hoping to block the music.

A finger tapped your shoulder and you looked up with no jump.

“It’s loud in here.” A handsome man with dark hair looked down at you.

“There’s a coffee shop a block away.” You stood up. “Can I buy you a cup?”

“Yes.” He nodded and set his drink down.

“What’s your name?” You yelled over the music.

“Stephen.” He was right behind you.

“Do you go by Steve and what are your thoughts on needy women?” You pushed open the door to the club.

The air was hot and you rolled your shoulders back, embracing the lack of obnoxious music.

“If I went by Steve I would have introduced myself that way.” His intense eyes glared at you. “And I am a surgeon. Everyone I encounter is needy. I don’t have time for it in my personal life.”

You stifled your laughter at the response. At least Steve had taught you to speak your mind. Having a flashback to leaving the bar with him.

“Well Mr. Stranger, I will never need you.” You grinned at him. “Except for good conversation and occasional support.”

“It’s actually Doctor Strange.” He chuckled. “I think that’s the first time I laughed in months.”

“Tell me about it...literally.” You kicked at the sidewalk. “How do you kill a circus?”

The man scoffed at you and then wiped off his sleeves.

“You go for the juggler of course.”

#Steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #marvel #marvel fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction

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razorblade180-heated · 2 years

Note

How about best girl amber for the hc :eyes emoji:

Considering how Amber is go getter, I can see her being the type that approaches the conversation and build up pretty positively and trying to invoke confidence. However, her partner begins to see the cracks in all that confidence when clothes come off and hands start roaming. Amber increasingly gets flustered and a little anxious despite really wanting to have sex. It takes a minute for her to warm up.

Maybe it’s all the community slander but I think Amber loves being praised lol. She has strong feelings about mutual satisfaction and wants her partner to feel great with her. Not one to slack off in anything, Amber tops and getting her to bottom doesn’t mean she’ll stay there or won’t try adding to the pleasure. She’s heard the “outrider” joke before in bed and isn’t afraid to admit she does like riding. Amber is a hicky fiend. She loves giving gentle bites and other marks that’ll last for little while. She herself doesn’t mind having them but prefers to have them in places that her uniform will easily hide. Showing up to work otherwise would be too embarrassing.

I wouldn’t say her libido is necessarily anything unique or intense, but getting her in bed typically means Amber will want to be here for awhile. Once the mood hits, she likes to revel in it with her partner. Kinks are more reliant on the partner. Amber is pretty happy just having someone in her arms. She’ll try things out and be open with what works and what doesn’t. Her competitiveness is alive and well in bed. Amber will always trying going tic for tac. It doesn’t always work out but she definitely tries. She’ll pout a little otherwise if she’s the only one left a complete mess by the end.

#genshin headcanons #genshin impact #gi amber

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authoressskr · 3 years

Text

Ruby Dragon Surprise (i)

Characters: f!Reader, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff, Clint Barton, Mercy (*previously Y/N in Bucky’s Dragon Soulmate Story*), mentions of Peggy Carter

Warnings: Language and no Beta :: Notes: This particular story will probably be three parts, cause Steve is emotionally constipated :: Word Count: 4849

I went with a dragon!soulmate!au, which I hadn’t seen before, but I did have a nifty dream about it that spawned this whole idea. He’s still an Avenger. Events are basically still the same (not exactly the same...people are alive who died in the mcu), just with dragons. ‘Cause who wouldn’t love a dragon companion?? This will be an ongoing series with different Avengers finding their soulmates with their dragons.

Howlite and Hearts (Bucky)

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Since men emerged from caves, began using tools and reshaping their environment, they have been intrigued by the draconian terrors of all shapes and sizes that roamed the world. The first records of man and dragon working together are from Mesopotamia, pieces of shattered pottery pieced back together showing a dragon standing beside a woman. Assyrian artifacts depict water dragons helping farmers in the field. Egyptian murals show dragons protecting the Pharaoh and his family, others showing different breeds of dragon fetching books from inside the Library of Alexandria.

History is dotted with famous dragons and their bonded humans; King Arthur and his steel-colored dragon, Excalibur. William Shakespeare and his dragon, Bard. Cleopatra and Bucephalus, named after Alexander the Great’s legendary steed. Abraham Lincoln and his dragon, Crusoe.

Over the centuries, dragons have become smaller from the giants painted in mythology, old texts and wall murals. The biggest dragon these days are about the size of a large crocodile, with the biggest recorded in the last decade almost as big as a hippo. Height varies on the type of dragon - with the tallest one balancing on its tail, hits almost eye level with a giraffe.

Classes have been taught for centuries about dragons and the bond between them with humans. Dragons will sometimes die right after their human counterpart and vice versa. Dragons who have lost their counterpart will sometimes live, seeking out their counterpart’s soulmate to stay with their draconian mates as well. It is not an uncommon thing - especially after times of war - for soulmates to have both dragons if one has died.

Dragon pairs will usually have the same colors and markings, even though they will often not be the same type of dragon. Dragons may look similar to the human eye, but a dragon will know it’s mate no matter what. It has not been determined how the dragons know their mate almost instantaneously, but after millennia humans have begun to follow the dragon counterpart’s knowledge in this area. Marriages of alliance and royalty have often been changed or dropped when one party finds its soulmate. In the same vein, marriages have also been arranged due to this circumstance as well. Cinderella is the most referenced fairy tale of this, with Cinderella having the same sapphire and gold colored dragon as the prince (*Dragon color varies by region and culture).

Soulmate bonds are some of the strongest bonds in our world. Both between a dragon pair and between a human pair. And on the flip side of the Cinderella story, dragons will attempt to push their human partners together if the human counterpart doesn’t seem interested or could result in a rejection.

On the same page, a rejection of this bond - always by the human partner - can have devastating consequences. This broken or unformed bond may result in: at first, flu-like symptoms but can build up to more serious symptoms such as feeling weak or run down, tremors and/or tics, varying weight loss, chest pains and even very mild seizures have been documented. Usually the bond is mended or solidified before it comes to these more serious issues. There are also historic rumors of deaths from broken hearts due to rejections, which has yet to be scientifically proven. The aforementioned symptoms may require hospitalization.

To date no dragon has succumbed to any symptoms from their human counterparts due to the rejection of the bond, which dragon experts seem truly puzzled by due to the strong bonds that can be formed between a human and a dragon. Rejections, however, are rare and scientists aren’t yet sure of all possible symptoms associated with a rejection of a bond. Touch, however, is shown to remedy these symptoms in trials and is known to be a powerful connector between a human and it’s dragon partner as well.

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If there was one thing Steve Rogers knew, it was that Peggy Carter was his soulmate.

He’ll admit he doesn’t think of it as often as when he came out of the ice, but he does still think about it - about Peggy - every few days. More so when Bucky, Sam and himself are out for lunch or when he and Wanda may be grabbing some coffee, because that is when he sees soulmates together.

The way soulmates look at each other is different. Like they don’t just see the person before them, but everything they are and could be; all rolled into everything they love.

And he’s envious of that look.

He knows he hasn’t received it. And he truly believes he hasn’t given it either. Sometimes he chalks it up to not being actual bonded soulmates with Peggy. Because he knows that the love that was blossoming would have turned into that loving, enraptured gaze he always longed for.

It’s the thought that gets interrupted when his cell rings on the way back from their morning run. He quickly switches his coffee cup to his other hand to fish the phone from his pant pocket, revealing Tony’s face on the screen.

“Hey, Tony.”

“Need you, the bird and the metal popsicle back here asap. Got a hit on a Hydra offshoot. Wheels up in 30.”

“Got it. We’re just a few blocks from the Tower now.”

“Pick up the pace then, old man,” And the call ends. He looks at Sam and Bucky before tossing back what’s left of his coffee and throwing it in a nearby trash can.

“Mission. Wheels go up in 30.” Sam sighs at his words.

“Morning calls are rare, man. Must be big.”

“Hydra,” Bucky mutters with a shake of his head before polishing off his own coffee. “Come on. Gonna take most of that time to get the scalies ready.”

“You know,” Sam mutters with a smug grin as they all continue towards the Tower, “You’ve picked up your soulmate’s habit of calling the dragons weird names.” Sam tosses his empty cup and dodges a swat from Bucky.

“Jealousy is an ugly, ugly thing Sam…”

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Steve shifts in his place in the rafters, Rak wiggling on his back in response to peer over his shoulder down at the HYDRA agents. He nods at Bucky, who is perched across the building, just above the exit.

“Where’d you find this one?”

“Get this - a museum.” The blonde HYDRA agent cackles, leaving the brunet nodding, a serious look on his face. A loud clang of the door reveals two more HYDRA agents, dragging another person between them while a third agent follows behind with a tactical machine gun held tightly in his grip. If body shape is anything to go on, it’s a woman. A curvy and buxom one. Bucky quickly types out an update in Morse code to Natasha who is stationed outside with Sam and Tony as the brunet drags a heavy wooden chair into the middle of the room.

They toss the captive into the chair, zip tying their wrists behind them before pulling off the thick bag from their head. If looks could kill…

“Now, Miss, we are going to ask you a series of questions -”

“Fuck. Off.” Steve’s eyebrows shoot up at the venom in her tone.

“You don’t seem to know who we are.” Her jaw clenches as she looks away from the salt and pepper haired man who dragged her in. “Come now. I don’t want to injure you more than necessary…”

“Right.” She snaps, looking down at her lap with a sigh. The tall brunet who helped drag her in shifts to stand behind her, grabbing a fistful of hair and yanking her head back. Her gasp makes Rak hiss in his ear, Steve feeling his claw tips through his suit. He tilts his head to rub it against Rak’s, offering that silent comfort to calm him down.

“Now, Miss, the first question is: You work in the nearby museum, correct?”

“Seeing as that’s where you took me from…” She gasps again as the hand tightens in her hair, bending her head back a little more. That’s when she notices Bucky in the rafters - quickly closing her eyes and sniffles loudly.

“What are you working on there?”

“Paleontology mostly. But when I started there I worked in the geology department. I’m a floater between departments since I don’t have my full degree yet.” The man relaxes his grip a little, pushing her head forward towards its normal position again.

“Rocks and bones.” The older agent chuckles before rubbing his hand over his graying beard. “Do you do anything else in the museum?”

“I assist only in the two departments. The only reason I help the geology is when the woman who regularly helps is gone cause she’s having a rough pregnancy.”

“Now we know that’s a lie. You spend a lot of time in the accounting office.” Her head is pulled back again so she’s looking at the ceiling again.

“I’m not sure you lot are aware that each department has a budget. I have to submit forms every month about the spending. Plus, one of the accountants is my friend.”

“So you are saying our intel is wrong?”

“Look, I’d like my head to stay attached, but yes, your intel is shit. Probably someone just looking not to be in the position I’m currently in.”

“So the museum isn’t looking into the dragons ancestors?”

“If they are, then I don’t know about it. I’m a peon!” She yanks her head from the man’s grasp and struggles in the chair.

“Little cherub, you are a terrible liar.”

“Listen asshat, I am keenly aware I’m a terrible liar. So I tend NOT to lie. Especially to someone who has tied me to a chair and has a fucking gun!!” He sighs, giving a little shake of his head before his hand shoots out and backhands her, making her head snap to the left. Rak’s claws pierce through his suit, smoke curling from his nostrils making Steve tense under him even more. He holds his hand up in a stopping motion, Bucky cocking his head slightly before Steve gestures over his shoulder at Rak.

“Woman, HYDRA has been looking for you for awhile.”

“Seems like a waste of time to me. I can’t have anything HYDRA could possibly want. Except maybe morals.”

“We don’t need morals in HYDRA.” The blonde grunts out from his leaning place against the wall.

“I’m aware. Ya ever think that’s why SHIELD and the Avengers whip your ass? Resign you to the shadows like the phantoms you are.” There is a loud enough explosion that everyone turns towards the exit, the men all tensing. “AND YOU KNOW WHAT? YOUR SIGIL OR WHATEVER IT IS MAKES ABSOLUTELY NO FUCKING SENSE! HYDRA MEANS 5! WHY DOES YOUR SYMBOL HAVE 8? AND DO YOU ALL KNOW THAT THE HYDRA WAS DEFEATED???” Her head is sent sharply to the left again, blood trickling from her lip at the contact.

“WHO FOLLOWED YOU?!” The older agent snaps at the blonde and brunet who they saw first.

“NO ONE, SIR!” Bucky drops down just as Tony comes through the back exit, making Steve shimmy upright before he begins across the beams in the rafters to cut off their retreat.

He drops down with a dull thud, blocking the HYDRA agents as planned but the brunet with the machine gun has it pointed under the woman’s jaw.

“She’s not so sassy now,” The man in charge smirks out, stroking a finger down her cheek. He glances behind, seeing Bucky, Tony and Natasha behind him.

“You know, nasty little fellows such as yourself always get their comeuppance.” Her words loud and clear as her gaze slides towards the older agent, the muzzle of the gun digging harder into her skin at her words.

“Snarky little bitch, isn’t she?”

“I like snark,” Tony mentions, looking to Natasha who just rolls her eyes. “But that’s because I’m just so good at it.”

“Release the girl, unharmed, and we’ll take you alive.” Steve offers, Rak’s nails digging into his shoulder once more as smoke begins to curl out of his nose again.

“How about no?” The agent whom had been silent this entire time speaks with a sneer, his little blue dragon’s head popping from a pocket in his utility pants.

Bucky lets loose a single round to the knee of the agent with the sub machine gun, making him buckle and the gun drop from his grip. That’s when Tony blasts the salt and pepper haired man past Steve as Natasha cuts the woman free, only for the woman to rush past Steve and the other agents deeper into the warehouse. Rak jumps from his shoulder and flys after her, prompting Steve to sigh as Bucky runs past, following after her and Rak.

“Does she realize the exit is the other way?!” Tony yells through the comms, taking a stance by where he’d entered to fend off dozens of incoming HYDRA. Two men run towards Steve only to stutter to the ground as electricity surges through their bodies.

“Thanks Nat.” He grunts before rushing through the doorway to find his best friend, his dragon and the directionally impaired woman.

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You’re trying desperately to remember the turns they’ve dragged you through, looking for the spot where they had separated the two of you and tossed a bag over your head. A man moves to grab you, only to be attacked by an aggressive ruby dragon. It then scrabbles up your legs and perches itself on your shoulder, urging you on with a little grunt. You tread a little more carefully after that, but no less urgent, a scream clogging your throat as someone grabs your shoulder from behind before slipping a hand over your mouth.

“Don’t scream.” You nod as the former Winter Soldier comes into view. “You know, the easy exit was the other way.”

“I’m aware. But they tossed my dragon in a big plastic looking box then I got the bag and drag treatment.”

“This warehouse has two floors in the front half, did they take you upstairs at all?” A shake of your head is all you can manage before the dragon flits from your shoulder and begins running down the hallway. “I guess we follow Rak then. You stay behind me and if I tell you to do something -”

“Consider it done.” You agree before gently pushing at his arm to get him moving.

Rak doesn’t stop until he’s about two hallways off where you all stopped, hissing and sending several fiery breaths towards the small side dock where HYDRA agents were loading up your dragon.

“Velma!” Her answering screech is enough to get you moving, Sgt. Barnes hand shooting out to keep you behind him. He’s got two of them shot and Rak is mauling another when you see a silver blur knock out the other two. It’s only when you turn to your right do you see Captain America snatch his shield, holding it for a beat before turning to look at you. If looks could lecture...you’d be in for a loooong one.

But as he gives you that look all you can think of is that now all the douche HYDRA agents are now k-o’ed, so you rush over to the giant box, sticking your fingers through the big air holes to stroke at her muzzle, Rak chirping at Sgt. Barnes, who steps around your crouched form and snaps the two heavy duty locks off with his metal hand. Your dragon bursts from the cage and tackles you, curling herself around your chest and neck as best she can as you coo reassurances to her.

“We gotta go,” Steve takes hold of your elbow, helping you up as you heft Velma off the ground, her wings wrapping securely around you as you follow Captain America back the way you came. Rak is riding on his shoulder and moving his ruby head back and forth between you and the hallway ahead. The Black Widow joins you halfway back and takes point, an emerald green dragon with beautiful iridescent wings in shades of purples, blacks, greens and a few splashes of a pale yellow shimmer brightly even in the dim lights of the warehouse hallway. You let out a soft grunt, hefting Velma a little higher as your arms start to tire. “Almost there. I can carry her, if you like?” He doesn’t look at you when he offers, simply continues looking forward at his measured pace beside you.

“I can manage,” Your pride answers before your tired arms can get a word in, a smile twitching at his lips at your answer, which just makes your pride suddenly all the more determined to do it yourself. He moves forward when you all get back to where the attack began, Natasha taking his place before Falcon glides in through the hole in the wall.

“It’s all secure to the jet,” He reports as he lands. “Tony is circling the outer gates to make sure they don’t have anything else - hostages or weapons.”

“Alright. Let’s get her on the jet. We’ll look her over and call into the compound for the doctor to be ready when we arrive.”

“Already done,” Natasha confirms and they all move in a protective box around you and Velma, Falcon now on your right and Natasha on your left as the good Captain takes the lead and the Sergeant keeps his place in the rear.

You’re herded - there is no other way to put it really - onto this very expensive, military-looking, and slightly futuristic jet. Falcon gestures to a seat and you kneel in front of it, carefully dislodging your draconian partner before taking the seat. Her scaled head nudges your open hand, reminding you that you’ve both made it.

Safe echoes in your mind and you nod, meeting her light amethyst eyes.

Safe, you reply as she climbs awkwardly into the seat beside yours, laying her head on your thigh.

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“Baby,” She coos to the dragon, a shiver going up his spine at the softness and care in her tone, her hand sliding easily over it’s red scales as Sam returns to her side with a first aid kit.

“They do anything else besides these?” Sam asks gently, his finger brushing softly over her cheek where it’s already beginning to swell. A shake of her head is all she manages, “Okay, I’m gonna clean it with an alcohol pad.” Sam swipes it across her cheek and around the left side of her mouth to get off the dried blood. When he dabs just under her lip she hisses and so does Rak, her own dragon tensing up and curling it’s upper lip just enough to flash the tips of its teeth.

“Down, kids,” She mumbles out before Tony struts onto the jet.

“All clear. Let’s go home.” Tony sits beside her as the jet begins to ascend, both men’s gazes dropping to her free hand which is gripping the edge of her seat. “I’m Tony.”

“Y/N.”

“Dragon?”

“Velma.”

“Velma,” Tony repeats with a chuckle. “I like it. Suits you both. This is Jericho.”

“‘By faith the walls of Jericho fell’…is that right?”

“Exactly! ‘See, I have delivered Jericho into your hands’. My mother insisted that I know the Bible. I just liked the idea of marching and horns defeating a strong enemy. No bullets, no bombs; just faith.”

“Kind of goes against the initial sort of images of yourself, huh?” Tony leans in slightly, a grin flirting on his lips.

“Have you been talking to my wife?” She leans in too, their foreheads nearly touching.

“I think I’d remember talking to her.”

“She is very memorable.” He agrees, leaning back in the seat before waving his finger at her chest. “Buckle up. We should be there in about twenty or thirty.”

“Do you need anything?” Steve asks, Bucky’s eye popping open from his resting place in the corner and a tiny twitch of his lips making him want to glare at his best friend.

“No, thank you.” Steve nods, moving to the front to talk to Natasha when Rak flits to the floor and scurries over to her, his head tilted to one side with his begging eyes on. Steve moves to turn back to stop Rak from bothering her. “Get up here then,” A smile dancing in her eyes as he chirps happily, leaping easily into her lap and shaking his wings out before carefully settling down, his snout resting beside Velma’s.

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You’re just nodding off when the jet lands, carefully tapping Velma and then Rak to wake them before stretching, wincing at the soreness in your face and neck.

Steve walks by you as the bay door opens before he whistles, Rak’s head perking up from the seat beside you, but he doesn’t move. This doesn’t seem to sit well with Steve, who glares at his partner like he’s betrayed him.

The dragon begrudgingly jumps down and stands at the Captain’s feet, an outstretched hand drawing you from the curiosity you felt watching Rak and Steve. You’re met with storm blue eyes and a small, easy smile.

“Come on, kid,” Unclicking from your seat, you accept his hand with a hushed thank you. You are hardly off the jet before a white marble blur nearly takes James down, his laughter ringing out before a woman appears just after, helping him up and the two of them disappearing into the building. You’re caught at a crossroads of sorts...Do you follow? Isn’t that a bit presumptuous?

“Are you Y/N?” You’re startled from your thoughts by a woman with thick black hair piled atop her head in a white lab coat.

“Yes?”

“I’m Dr. Hale. Natasha and Tony told us to be expecting you.” She gestures you forward, opposite to where the Avengers disappeared to. You follow obediently, with Velma trailing behind you, also looking to where they’d all gone. “Do you have any medical conditions we should be aware of?”

“No.”

“High blood pressure?”

“No, but if it’s high I was just taken hostage and then backhanded twice before having a gun shoved against my jaw while they tried to take my dragon.” She makes a face, eyebrows raised and fighting back a smile before she manages a big nod.

“Understandable...well let’s check all that. Was your dragon injured?”

“I ran my hands over all of her and she’s not injured that I can tell.” You look down at her, purple eyes alight. “You hurt, baby?” Velma shakes her head, her tail twitching slightly when she does so.

“Perfect. We’ll just check you over and then Tony should come get you.” All you can do is nod, following her into a very white and metallic exam room.

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Steve’s voice can be heard through the door of his room, he’s sure of it.

Rak has snapped at him twice so far and nearly set his comforter on fire because he ordered him to stay put while he showered. Steve knew where he would wander off to and he told Rak he needs to let the doctor do their job and check them over. He had angrily settled down when Howl had come into the room, the bigger dragon tossing himself down onto Rak’s bed - successfully luring Rak to him and calming the little spitfire down long enough for Steve to get a shower.

Once he was out of the shower, Rak started up again, a stare off ensuing between the two of them while Howl looked on in amusement.

“I said no!” Steve snaps at the wyvern before clenching his jaw so tight he’s sure he hears a pop. Rak opens his mouth, flashing all his teeth only to snap it closed when Bucky’s soulmate sticks her head in.

“Sorry. I knocked, but you must not have heard...I was just looking for Howl.” Howl’s whole body shakes as he wiggles his way happily to her. “Tony just went to get the woman from the infirmary, just to let you know.” Steve scowls at her as Rak begins to follow Howl out the door.

“Hey! Best behavior. And you need to cut the whole hissing, snapping and fire at me, you little gas ball.” Rak snorts, almost giving an eye roll as Steve blocks the door. “Shoulder.” He points for emphasis, his partner huffing as he slowly climbs up onto his shoulder. “And stay there, do you understand?” He turns his ruby head away and Steve’s mind wanders to the impossible...but he quickly shakes that thought from his head.

When she enters the room with her dragon, her cheek and lip swollen a little more than an hour ago when he’d seen her.

Wanda gasps as she enters the room, looking from Rak to Velma, Rak doing the exact fucking opposite as he was told - flinging himself from Steve’s shoulder and running towards you and Velma - before giving a little squeal.

“I’ve never seen a dragon soulmate pair meeting!” Steve looks in confusion from the dragons to Wanda and then to the woman, the room now deadly silent except for the soft, contented growls coming from the pair of ruby dragons curled around each other at Y/N’s feet.

“What - no, that’s not - that’s not possible.” Steve snorts in disbelief after he manages his oh-so eloquent words. “No. She’s not my soulmate,” The words tumble from his lips before he has a chance to really think the situation over but his eyes still see everything.

They see the hope that was blossoming in her soft eyes and they see the confusion flash through those pretty eyes before the hurt makes the light die out in them, her eyes dropping to the floor quickly.

He opens his mouth to refute his own words - to apologize and take it back - when he sees Bucky glaring at him.

After all, hadn’t it been him who had told Bucky to go after his dragon and his soulmate? Who had told Bucky he’d give anything to be in his shoes? And now that he was, he had just rejected his soulmate.

You could hear a pin drop as he stands there gaping like a fish before managing to firmly close his mouth.

She’s staring at their dragons, snouts pressed along side each other with their wings touching, tails twined together before she looks up and blinks rapidly. He knows she’s willing the tears away and it physically hurts him to see her avert her eyes.

Clint steps forward, whispering in her ear before offering her his arm. Clint takes her past him, both of their dragons trailing eagerly after her and both blatantly ignoring his very existence.

“All clear boss,” comes a familiar accented voice, Steve can feel all of his family’s eyes boring into him before Natasha speaks up.

“What the actual hell, you dumbass?”

“My sentiments exactly.” Tony pipes up from behind her.

“Didn’t you say you wish you were in my shoes?” Sam just harrumphs at Bucky’s words from where he’s sitting on the couch by Bucky and his soulmate.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize…” Wanda mutters among the other comments, worrying her bottom lip.

“It’s not your fault, Wanda,” Mercy soothes from the couch, hand gently squeezing Bucky’s as her dragon Cloud moves from her shoulder to Bucky’s, sensing his tenseness.

“Clint’s giving her a tour. She’ll be staying here until we can find out specifically why Hydra was after her. That should give you enough time to pull your head out of your ass,” Tony states while shoving his long sleeves up a bit on his forearms, hitting Steve with a “Sweet Jesus” side eye that Steve was all too well acquainted with.

“It just came out!”

“Like diarrhea…” Pietro says loudly from the kitchen, tossing a handful of grapes into his mouth. Steve glares at the male Maximoff, whom he literally didn’t even realize was in the damn kitchen.

“Again, it just came out. I didn’t even think about what I said!”

“That is abundantly clear,” Howl crawls into Bucky’s lap at his words, big eyes pleading to his human dad for pets to calm them both down, tail twacking Mercy who just rolls her eyes playfully at his needy and loving response to Bucky’s mood. Bucky smiling oh so softly at Howl and Mercy, as he strokes the oversized dragon taking up his lap.

Steve watches that and he aches for it. Those knowing looks to share with his soulmate.

But Peggy is gone.

And he doesn’t know where to go from here with this woman. Or the fact that Rak is completely convinced that Velma is his mate.

Because he is pretty sure she isn’t.

‘Pretty sure’ isn’t going to cut it for everyone else though. It definitely won’t be enough for Rak, that little gas ball of betrayal.

Steve was well and truly fucked.

Tagging: @moonbeambucky @thewhiterabbit42 @nobodys-baby-now @unleashthemidnight @stay-frosty-royal-unicorn @chelsea072498 @clockworkmorningglory @sakurablossom4 @marichromatic @blondecoffeecake @ourloveisforthelovely @whinywingedwinchester @feelmyroarrrr

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers au #authoressskr writes #dragon!soulmate!au #marvel fanfiction #steve x reader #part i

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seancekitsch · 4 years

Text

Strictly Confectional.

a/n: part whatever of the prize buck series, slight spoilers of tua season 2 so you HAVE been warned but like if youve read the comics nbd, smut warnings, klaus being sorta dominant for once, slight sensory deprivation kink, unprotected norty bits (wrap it up folx), canon drug references, rehab references, drug use, cursing, the title of this fic is from a lemon demon song which warrants its own warning, my usual run of the mill warnings etc.

Halloween is a fucking ordeal when you work at an occult shop and date a personified ouija board, and that’s putting it lightly. Even more of an ordeal considering Klaus decides to go cold turkey for the holiday week without warning you. Of course it was easy to figure out what was going on. The his and her’s morning joints you typically had resting on the windowsill became yours and yours joints. He had exactly one beer since last saturday, and halloween was still a day away. It was starting to get a little spooky. Your boss Margie hated Klaus on a regular day, claiming he threw off the vibes her store was supposed to give off. She was a highly superstitious woman and you wouldn't put it past her to actually notice if Klaus agitated any of the spirits that were probably attached to the things you sell. Realistically, Klaus’ presence did in fact stir up the spirits in her store. Lots of victorian era mourning hair bracelets and taxidermy probably made before your birth would do that. He always claimed the store was extremely loud, but still liked to visit you when your boss was running errands because you were there, and he can't help that he gets bored easily. Klaus’ being there never went unnoticed by your boss, even if he was gone by the time she came back. But this whole cold turkey thing was new for him. Even Diego and Ben said he had only tried to do this one other time, and it was during the apocalypse that never happened that you still think might have been a case of mass hallucination. You weren't sure what his reasoning for it was, since he was just sober enough to conjure Ben any time enough for you to see him and speak to him, even if he was a glowing blue apparition that you compared to the Tupac hologram from Coachella that only appeared for a few minutes. This week was a lot of Klaus having the usual headaches and shaking that come with coming off alcohol, but probably heightened because you know the ghosts don't just shut up when he wants them to. He hasn't been sleeping well unless spooned by you and hushed to sleep with the cool beginnings of fall air blowing through the window.

Friday morning you get your first cryptic answer as to what's been going on with him.

“The veil is thinner on Saturday, I want to try something I haven't been able to do since the sixties,” is the only explanation he’ll give as he kisses your fingertips and holds the door open for you at the shop. Of course, it has something to do with the sixties. Normally you wouldn't pay much attention to his family’s antics because you knew something was going on there that probably didn't concern you, the exception being that time he pulled you back to the sixties briefly and you were handed a briefcase meant for an old man before ending up back at home. You still aren't sure how you made it back to your shift at work that day but Margie hasn’t looked at you the same since. She probably thinks you're a freak like your partner. Which, fair.

His answer doesn't give you that much clarification, but it's better than nothing which is usually what he gives you in warning for his ideas. But anything testing the limits of his powers is usually good for the both of you, because it's a testament to growth and confidence just as much as the pieces of furniture you're slowly accumulating. Sure, there are still bad days. There are still terrible days for the both of you. The more he learns to control his abilities and the more furnished your apartment becomes, it's almost more like you're becoming real functioning people and you can consider yourselves part of that human race you've heard so much about.

Your shift at work is… different. Friday is typically a slow day, but the holiday weekend packs your store in a way you can barely keep up with. The quiet baroque music generally wafting through the air is interrupted by quiet “ewwws” and “what is that?”s from people who normally wouldn't be setting foot in a store like this being dragged in by their spookier friends. You've sold hundreds more than you usually would, but the quiet almost holy spell of the place is broken today. At least the day passes quickly with all the sales you make.

You can feel Klaus coming before he even presses his face into the glass window, smushing his lips and cheek into the glass like one of those slugs in an aquarium. Maybe there is something to be said about the veil being thin and all that. When his tongue darts out to join the rest of his face on the cold surface, you giggle, but then begin to wonder if you're getting a taste of what all the ghosts see when he tries to get in contact with them. He pulls back and waves before putting a hand on the door, a silent question of if it's safe to enter. You shake your head no because your boss is in the back room, but he only has to wait ten more minutes.

Those ten minutes pass slower than the entire shift before that. Just knowing he’s outside has you almost itching for his touch. Since when were you so needy that ten minutes felt like torture? Blame it on the fucking veil or whatever. Your hands are clammy by the time you clock out and bid Margie goodbye,while she reminds you to show up at work in costume tomorrow. Only she doesn't know you fully plan to come dressed in one of your partner’s silly superhero outfits from when he was a teenager.

Klaus is all too happy to kiss you open mouthed the second your figure is out of your workplace, and you willingly ignore that it's the same mouth he just smeared all over the side of a storefront because you're all too happy to kiss him back. One thing about his little cold turkey experiment that you’ve been loving is how potent his sex drive has become. His hands grip your hips like a vice as you continue kissing on the short three block walk and up the flight of stairs to your apartment and travel down to your thighs as you fumble with the keys in the dark of the setting sun not facing the only window in the building that faces the front door of your apartment. It's always a testament to your will when he gets like this as there's nothing you'd like better than to just ride him on the steps in front of your door, but there's just something about doing it in the privacy of your apartment that you like better.

But it's seconds before you feel the key sink into the hole and the tell tale click of everything being pushed into place, and the door gives way almost not soon enough for the two of you to clumsily barrel through it. Now Klaus under normal circumstances is a sexual being, but this cold turkey sobriety and focus is new, and makes you feel wanted- maybe loved- in a way you've never felt before in your life. It's not just that he wants to get off, he wants you. He wants to get off with and for you. Specifically you. Which is the sexiest feeling in the world, you've decided.

You barely put your bag down before he's pulling your coat from your shoulders behind you and growling in your ear.

“Now we’re trying something new tonight, okay baby?” you barely get out an affirmative nod before he finishes, “good, just trust me, I've got you in safe hands.”

You let him take the lead as he strips you bare in the middle of the studio apartment, which feels much bigger than usual, maybe because he’s still fully clothed. His movements are greedy, hands sparing no touch on even an inch of your skin, grabbing and caressing as if it was his property, which in a way, you'd be glad to grant him ownership. He takes control of you, your body not moving in any direction he does not will himself.

“Close your eyes,” he whispers as his hands find their way to your chest, and you do. You hear him sigh, and maybe a breath of “that's right” as his hand slides up to touch your face, making sure you listen to directions as well as he wants you to. You can hear him start to breathe a little heavier as he presses his leather clad crotch into your ass. He chuckles as you return the pressure, wiggling your hips a little to entice him, before he spins you around and presses your hand into the buttons that hold his pants up on his bony hips. Your eyes are still closed, that’s good, he thinks as he rewards you with a kiss. Your hands make quick work of the buttons, despite your impaired senses, and he shimmies the pants to his ankles, where his boots prevent them from falling any further.

“Wait a tic- wait, just…” he trails off and falters a little, you notice, before commanding you again, “stand there and touch yourself. I gotta get these boots off but if you open your eyes it'll ruin what I have planned for us.”

You comply and focus on the smells and sounds of the room as you part your legs a little further and trail your fingers down. There's a heady scent in the air from stale weed smoked this morning and the sickening sweetness of the strawberry hookah set out and packed for tonight, which now would probably be left to the wayside, you note, as you feel wetness collect on your fingertips even at first contact. You focus on the sound of his laces as they smack the hardwood floor as your middle finger rubs slow calculated tight circles on your clit. You don't dare pick up the pace or try to touch yourself in earnest at first, unsure of his intentions for the night as a soft sigh of a moan leaves your parted lips. You hear a loud dull thud, and then another. He must be done, you think, as your fingers pick up the speed, just a little, just enough to make you whine at your own actions. And he is, his boots are discarded near the door, but this isn't a view he's going to give up that easily. Its not every day someone is obeying his commands, fucking themselves and whimpering his name uninhibited like this. He smiles as he watches, and you can feel his eyes on you. You wonder what you must look like, shameless, wanton, on display for him. But then you feel a hand wrap around the wrist of the hand that's between your legs and he pulls it away from your body. Then the chill of the fall air hitting your wet fingers, then his wet mouth engulfs them, sucking. The action sending shockwaves up your arm to the joint of your shoulder, the entire arm pliant for him to use as he wishes. This is what being with Klaus does to you. Your body instinctively wants him to use it. Once he's content with licking every drop of you off your fingers, he moves your hand from his mouth to on his shoulders, and surges up to gather you in his arms, yours moving to grab him and stabilize yourself in return. He carries you to what you assume is your bed and settles you on his naked lap, his hard cock finding shelter between your thighs. He kisses you hard and deep, focusing on his tongue greeting yours, then pushing it out of his way as he explores your mouth. You've been so good, keeping your eyes shut for this long, and tells you so as he grinds up, the head of his cock just barely brushing against where you want him most.

His hips rock up and down, up and down, tantalizing and teasing you. Your moans and keens whenever he happens to hit the mark are music to his ears, something he holds so incredibly dear to him. Even with your eyes closed, when he looks up at them he can still see the love behind them. It's an acceptance he’s been struggling to find in modern times, until you. It’s the full trust you give him with your body and mind. He remembers every scrap and detail you’ve given him since he first tucked you into bed that day in the clinic, and hoards it like treasure. The way you’ve slowly opened up to him like dropping a trail of breadcrumbs for him to follow, your willingness to work to give him what you can. You’re guarded for a lot of the reasons he’s so open. But you make the choice to be open to him, and he’s thankful. And as he shifts your bodies to thrust inside you, as your mouth falls open into an ‘o’ shape, he decides he wants to take everything you’ll give him, bask in the affection you readily shine on him, as long as you’ll shine on him. Tonight he wants to impress you.

You’re being so good, really so good. You haven’t opened your eyes once, not even to peek. You’ve just held on tight and let Klaus take the lead. It’s kind of kinky; really. Letting him be in control, losing one of your senses, blindly kissing the parts of skin you can reach, which you think is his chest and shoulder. Even as he shifts you, holding your legs now as he shifts the position a little more. It’s not uncomfortable, but never a position you’ve been in before. You can tell by the way your thigh muscles quietly burn that you’re pretzeled up in his lap, with him thrusting deeply up into you.

The way his thrusts hit inside you is delicious, each time he bottoms out earns him another moan falling from your lips against his skin, always vocal for him. This time your moans are uncontrollable, the way he controls the action is undeniably sexy and undeniably the Klaus of it all, the way he can toe the line between gentle and rough, the care he puts into every motion. He makes sure to use his entire body to get you off, and tonight he’s really trying to go above and beyond.

“Okay-“ a moan from deep in his throat, “open your eyes. Don't scream!”

The first thing you see is the blank white smoothness of the wall, specifically where it kisses the ceiling. At just above eye level. Your head has to be, what, inches from the ceiling? and. wait. What?

If you weren’t clinging to him for dear life, you certainly were now. He hisses then groans at the feeling of your nails digging into him, sure to leave shallow little crescent moon marks on the tops of his biceps. The ceilings are tall enough that Klaus can stand on top of it without his head brushing the ceiling, and you were somehow floating right up there.

Immediately Klaus sees the panic that crosses your features and shushes you, comforting, but not unlike how someone tries to calm a child or a pet.

“Hey, look! I haven’t levitated since 1963. I thought it would be a nice surprise, I can stop if you need, we can lay down,” Ever the sweet man, he’s instantly trying to make sure this is okay or if he’s crossed a line. But you shake your head no. Honestly, fucking freaky at first, but then its fucking freaky, and you are down with it. Up with it.

“No, no... I like this. Do your worst.”

The words are barely out of your mouth before he leans back, bringing you with him. Now you can sit up, and give your body a little bit more space than he had been giving it before. You figure you could ride him like this and push against the ceiling for support, which actually, was Klaus’ whole idea behind this. Great minds think alike or whatever. So as he keeps thrusting you start to shift your hips back to meet his. It’s weird not having anything below you for leverage for your legs, but maybe if he does this again you can figure something out.

Instead it’s this steady grind, him up, you down. Now its less of an honest to god fuck and more of a writhing midair to make each other come.Instead of his worst like you’d asked, its incredibly intimate in a way you usually aren’t. But that's enough for the both of you. The ceiling does wonders to help your arms press you down into his pelvis, rocking yourself up and down on him while your legs dangled. You were honestly impressed by the way he was able to keep himself so horizontal. Maybe his being trained in combat as a teen gave him core muscles you didn't realize he had. All of these thoughts of muscles are quickly swallowed by Klaus, Klaus, and nothing but the way Klaus was making you feel at this very moment.

If any one would have seen the two of you climax, which happened at the same time for once in the hundreds of times now that you'd fornicated, one would have seen from the top of your window two legs go rigid before two bodies floated down back to where human bodies should be with surprising grace, the owners of those bodies kissing everywhere one each other that they could reach. He kissed your neck, your chest, your face, long strong fingers brushing your hair soothingly as his back hit the mattress. He slides out of you unceremoniously, at which you pout at the loss of him, but only to shift and tuck you into his side as his arms still cradled you close.

“So, as lovely and thrilling as that was, why did the veil or whatever need to be thin for you to do that?”

“Well, it didn’t, but I wanted us to get in the holiday spirit a little more, like that scene in Poltergeist.” He punctuates the sentence with a kiss to your temple as he slides off the bed, and gingerly walks over to the kitchen. He’s turning on the stove, then using tongs to place a coal onto the heat.

“If I torch this for hookah, will you take this bowl with me?” as if everything that just happened was commonplace. An everyday occurrence.

All you can do is nod.

#klaus hargreeves x reader #klaus hargreeves imagine #klaus hargreeves smut #klaus hargreeves fanfic #my work #prize buck series

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austerulous-a · 3 years

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𝐒𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 .

1. What does your muse smell like?

Ha, I always seem to ask writing partners this question! Annie herself has a rather keen sense of smell, and likes to be clean. Her body’s natural scent is vaguely sweet but given she perspires considerably during martial training, and hit puberty earlier than most, she became fastidious about personal care at a young age. In the interests of getting as much sleep as possible, Annie tends to wash out of a sink or basin in the morning, and shower in the evening (it’s no accident that this arrangement also means she’s also less likely to have to use communal showers at the same time as anyone else). In Marley, she often retained the scent of the plain soap her father purchased, while in Paradis scented soaps became her secret indulgence. Light, floral fragrances are her favourite, and she likes lilac in particular.

2. What do your muse’s hands feel like?

Having suffered with sensitive, itchy skin as a child, Annie is in the habit of frequently using balm or cream on her hands, which makes them soft and smooth to the touch. That being said, as a result of domestic chores, her silver ring being a permanent fixture on her right forefinger, as well as her military training, Annie’s palms and fingers have some calluses. For as long as she can remember, she has had cool hands (and feet) but inheriting the Female Titan seems to have exacerbated this to the point where they are frigid much of the time. Annie’s hands are dainty, in keeping with a girl of her size and stature, while her fingers are dexterous, slender and deceptively delicate; she is strong, and can deliver a crushing handshake if so inclined (never forget this scene from the Lost Girls OVA).

3. What does your muse usually eat in a day?

Annie has an unhealthy relationship with food, and her eating patterns are disordered; she is the sort to forget to eat or to deliberately skip meals, or to binge when the opportunity presents itself. Given that Annie’s value lies in her physical capabilities, her father was very controlling over her intake, and critical of both her body and her sweet tooth. You better believe Gabe Leonhardt is the kind of man who would slap a biscuit out of his daughter’s mouth. The regular, plain meals served by the military work in her favour then, as they provide some sort of structure and nutritional balance. Of course, her impoverished background (picking mould off fruit and bread was a common occurrence during her childhood, as food close to spoiling was sold at discounted prices) and her appetite mean Annie isn’t a fussy eater. She will try almost anything once, even dishes others might balk at, or consider an acquired taste. Adventurous as she is, Annie carries a great deal of trauma around what she was forced to consume by the Marleyan military, as part of their experimentation on her and the Female Titan. This included cannibalising parts of her fellow Warriors. Living amongst refugees after the fall of Wall Maria, Annie stole food, and would split these spoils – as well as her rations – with Reiner and Bertholdt. Sharing food is one of the easiest and most common ways for her to express affection. Annie does not drink alcohol, her favourite beverage is limeade and she is particularly fond of lavender, lemon and mint flavours.

4. Does your muse have a good singing voice?

Yes, but Annie has little cause to sing, and it would mortify her to be overheard, so she rarely indulges (never underestimate her fear of being laughed at). Sometimes, she will sing in the shower, or while doing chores alone, but she is far more likely to hum quietly under her breath. For the record, I think Misaki Fukunaga’s vocals on Annie’s song (Kanojo wa Tsumetai Hitsugi no Nakade / ‘She Lies Within the Cold Coffin’) is a pretty solid representation of her singing voice.

5. Does your muse have any bad habits or nervous tics?

While she has been raised to be adept at disguising her emotions, Annie does have a number of behaviours that are born out of habit, and can be indicative of her mood – namely cracking her knuckles, or twisting her silver ring. For a time, she had a ‘tell’ during combat where she would blink twice in rapid succession before making a particularly decisive or devastating blow; her father successfully hammered this out of her. While not a habit per se, during her early childhood she suffered from excoriation disorder, and as such would scratch / pick at her skin, as well as pull out her hair and eyelashes. As a young adult, swearing forms one of her more obvious bad habits, along with staring, keeping a wholly irregular sleep schedule and forgetting to eat (or conversely eating too much).

6. What does your muse usually look like / wear?

Whenever possible, Annie will remain in her military uniform both for the impersonality and simplicity of it. Outside of that, she chooses roomy, comfortable and practical clothes in pale and muted colours. Hoodies form her preference (she will pull the hood up when she wants to shut the world out, or to feel alone) but tunics, sweaters and jumpers also appear in her wardrobe – basically anything that’s relaxed in fit, and doesn’t cling to her upper body. She is less concerned with trousers being closefitting, and is content to wear cropped varieties or even shorts in hot weather. Skirts, dresses and more traditional feminine garb usually only feature in her disguises. Annie is tactile and has a strong preference for soft fabrics, partly because for the comfort they offer her touch-starved self, and partly because she suffered with sensitive skin (an issue that inheriting the Female Titan resolved for her). For the sake of practicality, Annie will almost always pull her hair back into her trademark messy bun, and likes a heavy, long fringe to hide behind. Post-crystal, she moves towards wearing her hair down, finding that it helps soften her hard features. Ultimately, Annie isn’t big on experimentation when it comes to fashion or styling, doesn’t wear make-up, and is concerned only with being clean, comfortable and presentable enough to pass inspections.

7. Is your muse affectionate? How much? How so?

There are times when Annie wishes she could be affectionate, but she genuinely doesn’t know how. Her father deliberately kept her isolated, and dominated her formative years as a remote, unfeeling and largely inexpressive disciplinarian. The height of care he showed Annie was silently helping her to wrap her swollen hands and feet at the end of particularly gruelling days, or tending to her when she was sick with fever. His bedside manner was clinical, perfunctory. Where other parents might hold their child’s hand, he would choose instead to grasp her by the wrist, often gripping her tightly enough to bruise. Distance has always existed between them and, prior to the Paradis Island Operation, he placed his hand fondly on Annie’s head only once, and embraced her only once, the traumatic context of both instances sullying the contact. As a result, she watches expressions of affection – mothers dabbing at their children’s sticky faces, friends embracing or tousling each other’s hair, lovers holding hands – with quiet longing and fascination, more often a witness than a participant. Normally only close to others in combative situations, Annie is hardwired to associate proximity and touch with danger and / or pain. It isn’t all doom and gloom, however. With trusted companions or partners, Annie can and will open up, overcoming her concern with boundaries and rejection. Mostly she expresses affection through small, fleeting touches; the brush of fingers, sitting side by side or leaning against those she is comfortable with. Along with quality time, physical touch is one of Annie’s primary love languages.

8. What position does your muse sleep in?

Given the abuse that marked her childhood, it’s no accident that Annie assumes an almost defensive position. Typically she sleeps on her side with her knees drawn up and her hands raised, vaguely mirroring her combative stance. On occasion she will sleep her head under her pillow, or hide her face in the crook of an elbow. While she very often dreams of training with her father, she is usually a deep sleeper and doesn’t move around too much – though the odd slumberous punch or kick isn’t unheard of. Eerily, Annie will sometimes sleep with her eyes open, and she is a frequent sleep-talker.

9. Could you hear your muse in the hallway from another room?

Most likely not. Courtesy of her martial training, which demands she be light on her feet, and her father’s fervent subscription to the belief that children should be seen and not heard (along with his punishment / correction of any behaviours that he deemed irritating or undesirable) Annie learned to move quietly, to make herself as small and silent a presence as possible. Being diminutive both as a child and as an adult, she never experienced the clumsiness that often comes with growth spurts and the shifting dimensions of a maturing body. There is a natural grace and confidence to her movements, but also something soulless and mechanical that has been instilled in her. Play and the raucousness of childhood was not something Annie was permitted to indulge in at home and it shows; even during her youngest years, she carried herself as an adult might, stiffly and precisely. This inherent stealthiness is part of what makes her so well-suited to covert operations, along with the fact that she is plain and slight enough to go overlooked. That being said, when she is especially exhausted or weary, Annie may stumble or move lethargically, and is more likely to be overheard.

tagged by: @oncejaw like a million years ago – I loved doing this, thank you lovely! ♡ tagging: a ton of people were tagged already, so whoever wants to do it.

#✧ headcanon — ❛ go waist-deep in mist / to break the light ice ❜#cw: disordered eating #cw: skin picking #cw: cannibalism

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the-moon-prince · 3 years

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The Last Of us~Kurapika x Reader ~Chapter V

AN: Hi my lovely fellows!

This chapter contains a mention of sexual abuse. I understand how hurtful this topic may be to a lot of people (me included). Likewise, I'll mark it at the start and the end, so you don't have to read it if you prefer. I made sure for people to be able to read the chapter without reading forcefully that part. I added this as a form of venting. I feel like it's an avoided topic, and it's my form to show support to other trauma survivors. This was made with the only intention to comfort. If something is bad written or harmful, please tell me. I also ask for your understanding if you plan on commenting, thank you very much!

I wish you a pleasant read, and I hope you’ll enjoy the new chapter of my story. (Chapter I) (Chapter II) (Chapter III) (Chapter IV ) (Chapter VI coming soon!)

Paring: Kurapika Kurta x GN! Reader

Word count: 2 888

TW: Mentions of sexual abuse / Mentions of abuse ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Y/n) appeared more comfortable around Kurapika. Occasionally letting their ears escape while staying in the privacy of their houses.

But there was still something mysterious about (Y/n). Some of what they didn't say. Kurapika was filled with doubts and fears because of that. He pondered scenarios, each one worse than the other. Are they lying to me? Maybe they're in some kind of danger or distress. Creating a vicious and unhealthy cycle in Kurapika's spirit.

The two were patient in the relationship, neither comprehending fully how to give or receive affection. But despite the time they had been together, (Y/n) seemed resistant to accept fondness. Particularly physical. They had never tried to hold hands. When Kurapika attempted it, they recoiled in alarm more than once. In the few hugs they had given each other, (Y/n) shivered. Loud noises made them shake and jump, and they hand a list of tics as sudden shaking chills or protectively shrugging shoulders. Kurapika could understand that, he had tics as well. But his partner seemed triggered by his touch. They continued to be protective of their eyes. It was normal they didn't meet his eyes often, however, they tried to hide her eyes whenever they looked more cat-like.

Suspicions of his beloved being at risk grew bigger. He didn't want to, he couldn't permit himself to lose someone else. What kind of cruel mockery of life would be that, when finally there was someone like him-Someone who understood and supported him-was erased from this plane. The idea that these funny tail and ears weren't going to survive grieved Kurapika. The plausibility of not seeing those (curly/wavy/messy/straight) (hair/color) strands nevermore haunted him. Undoubtedly, it didn't end there. Fury consumed him when he conceived the idea of someone injuring more further a being so humane, kind hearted, and compassionate as (Y/n). Hadn't both of them grieved enough? But what they were suffering, adding would be disastrous.

Yet, (Y/n) didn't utter a single word regarding the matter.

Kurapika entered a state of fright. At that limit, he needed at the very least to know what was going on. He showed up that night at (Y/n)'s residence, knowing that they had no guard at the hospital and that they would be there. He had a spare key and wasn't abnormal to simply arrive at the other's place. Either of them had the habit of picking phone calls or answering messages.

Except for the scene he arrived at was abnormal.

He saw (Y/n) from behind sitting on the floor, a thing they never did, and if anything was remarkable about them, it was how strict they were with their customs. They had their elbows leaning on the coffee table, looking down at something. They did not react upon his arrival. (Y/n) never missed a noise, even less the one of a door opening. Yet, they remain immobile as if the lives of the universe depended on them staying frozen in place. Kurapika approached them. To see that there was a call in progress on their phone resting upon the table. (Y/n) did not dare to see the phone directly. Their hands held their head by the forehead, their gaze hidden behind their (curls/waves/strands). Just as Kurapika opened his mouth to speak, a female voice came from the phone's speaker-"So you won't answer me?"-silence again-" My baby... I know you think I broke you..."-the voice was sweet and honeyed, full of compassion"-Who could that woman possibly be? Why did she address (Y/n) like that, what did she mean by "break". Kurapika craved to question (Y/N) what, for love for his clan, was happening. He was relucted from doing so, he could perhaps extract information from the person on the other end of the line, taking advantage of the fact that she believed that (Y/n) was alone.-"But that's not true! I didn't do anything, my love. You were born broken, your demoniac eyes are the proo-" (Y/n) abruptly cut the call before the sentence finished. They didn't turn to see Kurapika, despite knowing he was beside them.

Kurapika had his breakpoint. "What's happening (Y/n)?! Who was that?! You can't keep things as such from me?! Do you understand that?!"-he started to scold, raising his voice. His eyes would look scarlet if it weren't for the contacts he was wearing at the moment. Someone else knew about (Y/n) identity. Who can say such atrocities? On top, with such a sound and sweet voice, it was twisted. She was talking about their eyes. Did she want them? Was she behind (Y/n)'s eyes? All these questions flooded incessantly in Kurapika's mind. (Y/n) hid upthrusting their shoulders and covering their face with their hands, their whole figure was shaking. They drew their ears back and adhered the tail to their body, probably changed on instinctual reaction.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry"-(Y/n) started to lament, voice quivering. Their breaths were heavy as if it were inhumanly tough to keep breathing. Whoever the other person was, were bad enough to provoke a position of panic on (Y/n). Kurapika knew that and seeing that getting angry only seemed to affect the feeble trembling figure in front of him, he decided to calm down. He was greatly concerned that someone he esteemed as highly as (Y/n) was in that position. It was not wise to let his humor aggravate things.

He lowered himself to their level and sat down next to them. He raised his hand to stroke their hair. As soon as the tips of his fingers touched the (curls/waves/bangs/strands) he heard a heavy "Don't!" and backed up his hand.-"It's alright. I'm not touching you. Still, I require you to explain to me what happens. Who was that woman?" Besides offering physical contact, Kurapika had no distinct idea how he could comfort (Y/n). He felt frustrated and powerless.

"My mum."-they whimpered, (Y/n) was distressed although not crying. Not a single tear came out during all that night. Kurapika no longer understood.

"Weren't your parents deceased?"- He felt that they had lied to him, and it sure bothered him that he kept that from him. But this was not the time to discuss that part.

"No, my family is dead..."-(Y/n) began to breathe more calmly. They readjusted, moving their hands away from their faces to hold their arms. "They did not raise me. My grandparents did. When my grandad got ill and died I left to study. They always lived far away." -(Y/n) didn't look at Kurapika at any time. They kept their gaze at a standstill. Nevertheless, he could notice that their pupils were very dilated, reminding him of the stare of a scared soaked cat.

"What did she mean by break you?"-he continued trying to maintain a moderate voice. He was somehow scared to hear the answer. It would hurt to know that someone hurt (Y/n).

"I wasn't the legal age. Someone had to take my guard when my grandfather died."-Their face stayed still in a sober expression.

"Did they hurt you?"- He felt progressively more scared and worse.

"It's not important. I don't believe it's something you desire to know." -Even with everything happening, (Y/n) refused to speak. How could they be so obstinate?

"(Y/n), this cannot continue. I require to know. You are not delusional, you know you have to tell me."-Kurapika got a heavy sigh.

"They never loved me, you know? I was never certain why. I tried my best. Maybe they were expecting a human... Maybe they blamed me for their separation...Perhaps they were disappointed to learn that I have a disability."- Kurapika didn't know that (Y/n) could have a difficulty, they never mentioned any medical condition. He would ask about that a little further. They were finally discussing if he interrupted now, possibly the opportunity will not present again.-"I spent most of my time in the university's boarding. Only I wasn't allowed to stay on vacation, so I would go home. Sometimes they put a muzzle on me so I wouldn't bite - although I never bit anyone. They put an electric collar on me once. I guess they were scared of me. "It's for your good because we love you, and you have to behave. Good kitties don't scratch and don't bite." my mother told me. They believed it to be true. They did many things to me under that pretext..."-They stopped there. Still having something to say, but not wanting to.

(WARNING: MENTION OF SEXUAL ABUSE AHEAD)

"Did they... something else to you?"-Kurapika asked again. At that point, he was not surprised (Y/n) never mentioned their parents and did not consider them family. His anger was replaced by compassion. Expecting the worst.

"Yes."- there was the resistance again.

"What did they do?"-(Y/n) made a little movement with their head still hesitant.

"My mother did. She told me she had to check I was okay. Because I was not like other children..."-They lowered their gaze. Kurapika felt a chill. Neither of them was foolish, they knew what was to come. (Y/n) shrugged even more and started to play with their (color) hair -"It happened more than once, I don't remember precisely how many, but more than once for sure. She ordered me to... take off my clothes and... to lay down. It was unpleasant. For a long... for a very long time, I... I denied it. I told myself that she was an adult... that she knew better. If I doubted a bit more... If I weren't so naive... I would have done things differently, you know?"

(END OF THE MENTION OF SEXUAL ABUSE)

Kurapika felt horrible. It felt awful seeing someone he loved so much like this, someone innocent who didn't deserve anything of what happened. For the first time, he didn't know what to say. He had no idea how to act. It was something he did not understand.-"And the rest of your family? You couldn't ask other Uniliums for help?" he probed, wanting to understand their circumstances.

"I tried. I ran away twice. They discovered me at the first try. Two adults facing a 9-year-old child. They clearly gave me the beating of my life.

The following was 4 years after, more prepared. When I returned to our community, I found out that they got butchered not long ago."-(Y/n) lamented. It was probably what ached most of all. That they got that tiny hope and comfort taken away. -"I'm convinced if they had known, they would have helped and appealed to my favor. I concentrated on my studies in the faith to forget. It was also my opening to escape. I like my career, you know? Although my father told me during the 10 years it lasted that it was disappointing and worthless."-they added with a trembling smile. Those were the two details that provided them any comfort.

"Why didn't you tell me any of that?"- Kurapika asked once more.

(Y/n) raised their shoulders.-"I don't know. I was scared and ashamed. I was afraid that you would hate me. Perhaps I imagined you would be disappointed in me."-They were conscious that it was not a rational fear. But it was stronger than them.

"How could I hate you? It wasn't your fault."-He comforted. Full of regret for what happened-"It was not your responsibility at any time."

"I know... Though, still, sometimes I wonder if it was. Even acknowledging that it is a lie." (Y/n) sniffled without shedding any tears.

"They won't do a single thing to you, ever again. I'm present now, and I'll make sure they don't put a finger on you. You are safe. Okay?"-The blonde man secured.

"Thank you."-They smiled again. Many would have said it was the same smile. But for Kurapika it was different. This time it was a touch more melancholic than usual, but there was a side of profuse relief. They relaxed and their ears were forward, symbolizing more relaxed humor.

"It's impressive you succeed the Hunter exam possessing a physical disability." It was Kurapika's crafty way of questioning the subject.

"It was quite difficult. I was born with a respiratory condition, so I cannot develop many physical abilities. I am not physically powerful and I have restricted time to run. I depend greatly on my ability Nen and my wits. However, I won't allow that to stop me. Nobody tells me what I am capable of or not."-(Y/n) bragged. They could be proud. Even with that disadvantage, they had come a long way. That night Kurapika was aware of how strong his companion was. It didn't seem like it, at no time did any of the people who saw (Y/n) imagine all this side of them. After so much, they stayed strong-minded and sweet. They were truly brave. They were both survivors after all. They had both succeeded to get so far despite all the grief. And they both held pride in that. For Kurapika, the fact that (Y/n) had a more sensitive and altruistic side did not make them weak. Of course, they were qualities disapproved among several Hunters.

However, no other hunter held him during his afflicted moments. He could be vulnerable with (Y/n), and he was safe with them.

"Can you remain with me tonight, please?"

Kurapika didn't expect that request.

It was the first time one of them stayed overnight in the other's place. They had stayed really late together, but they didn't stay until the next morning. Plus, knowing how reserved (Y/n) could sometimes be, he assumed they would favor time alone following such an intense experience. Nevertheless, there was something so personal and vulnerable about that request. Kurapika felt the immense desire to stay and protect them.

"Of course."-He couldn't help but use a soft tone.

During all that conversation (Y/n), although exhibited fear, did not manifest weakness at any time. They stayed dignified without losing control.

"Can we lay down, please? I feel a bit tired."-they called after a moment of silence. Their voice resonated dull and tired.

"We can do whatever you desire."- Kurapika smiled at them, his only preoccupation at that instant was to ensure the well-being of the person he treasured, and their head started to bob. (Y/n) slowly nodded and got up. They silently asked him to follow them and padded to their chamber.

It was the first time that Kurapika entered their bedroom as well. It was fairly more adorned. It had a relatively big bed, with light cloths and a fluffy (color) colored bedspread. Without neglecting its childish side, it was full of stuffed animals of all kinds, colors, and sizes. Several shelves were overflowing with books. Shelving with toys and cute figures, alongside a record player and a cloth case with music records was also in the room. Next to the bed was a stool with a lamp and a framed photo. The apartments had their private bathroom, on which (Y/n) entered. Kurapika sat on the bed- or in the space left without stuffed animals- and waited. No longer than 15 minutes should have passed before (Y/n) came out with slightly wet hair, and a matching (color) pajama shorts and shirt. Kurapika didn't identify the exact scent at the time, but they smelled good, familiar. (Y/n) took the stuffed animals and arranged them as best they could on an individual loveseat.

"I apologize for this disorder."-they pointed to the bathroom door.-"There is the other toilet, so you can use it whenever you desire. I have each item, please serve yourself."-They laid on the left side of the bed and rested their head on the puffy pillow.

Kurapika merely laid down next to them, not too close. He was uncertain if it was correct to hug them or stay near. (Y/n) arranged the beddings covering the two. They smelled identical at them.

"Kurapika..."-an reluctant voice called his name.

"Yes?"-It felt strange, being in that place that, until then, seemed confidential. But it wasn't unpleasant at all.

"May I hug you?"-The request was bashful and quiet.

He thought of just opening his arms but preferred to give a vocal response as well.-"Of course you may."

(Y/n) approached him steadily. They proceed to timidly embrace him, after their arms were wrapped around him, they snuggled their face on him.-"You're warm... I feel ... comfortable ... with you. Which is bizarre. I don't feel secure with anyone since I was 6 years old."

Kurapika held them protectively. He felt profoundly touched by that strangely honest statement. He attempted to affectionately stroke their (curls/waves/locks). They allowed it.-"I love you (Y/n)."-He couldn't think about anything else he wanted them to know.

"I adore you, Kurapika."

(Y/n) ultimately permitted themselves to be vulnerable with Kurapika too. It felt good. It was good for them to have someone so strong to have their backs and accompany them.

They could hold each other.

#hxh scenarios #kurapika x reader #kurapika kurta x reader #hxh x reader #hxh #kurapika hxh #kurapika kurta #hunter x hunter #kurapika #kurapika imagine

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anextraordinarymuse · 4 years

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My thoughts on Red and Liz so far

I’m going to put this under a read more, because I haven’t been part of this fandom long but I have already discovered that these two are divisive for a lot of people.

If you are dead set that this is a father/daughter relationship, this probably isn’t the post for you.

Okay, so I just finished Season 3 Episode 5, Arioch Cane, and I have Thoughts and Feelings™ about ... well, so many things. This is going to get long, so buckle up and I’m sorry in advance.

Up to this point, I absolutely do not understand the choices the writers, actors, and producers made if they did not want the Red/Liz relationship to be read as romantic. Because they have made deliberate choices that lead you right down that path and it’s driving me crazy, so here is an incomplete list of those things.

The end of 1x05: Red is sitting in the library and tells his helper guy that he’s investing in the future, and then his guy says “your future is arriving now” - enter Liz, and the whole time the song that’s playing is Wicked Game. GTFO with this - seriously? I will grant that it’s a remix of the song (it’s by Emika, and it’s beautiful and worth a listen), but it is still a romantic song that they chose to have playing for the entirety of Red and Liz’s interaction in that library. Music is a deliberate choice that is made in post production (it’s added after the scenes have been shot). Maybe you should have picked a different one.

The NUMEROUS and pointless references to Liz being his girlfriend. They start as early as 1x02, and this drives me nuts. This is a common and well-known trope across tv shows and movies (any story medium, really, including books) to hint at romantic relationships/feelings early in the story. It sets up the eventual hookup or love reveal that comes later. And it’s all over in terms of Red and Liz, and it’s never corrected except once in 1x02 when Red tells Liz she can pose as his girlfriend from Ann Arbor and she says “absolutely not.” It’s never refuted again, not even by Liz. Ressler asks her in a later episode if she and Red are having a lover’s quarrel and she doesn’t answer; Ressler asks Red if he’s in the doghouse (a term that is only used between romantic partners) and he doesn’t answer; Madeline Pratt comments on the age difference with “isn’t she a little young for you?” (a jab at the May/September trope and at Red); Luther Braxton taunts Red over the phone and says “your girlfriend, the princess”. I could keep going because these instances keep happening, and there is absolutely no reason to keep putting these lines in if TPTB had no intention of presenting a romantic angle/possibility for this relationship. That is a DELIBERATE choice the writers made.

This brings me to my next point: Red is never the one to explain away the romantic/sexual tension/looks/hints/undercurrents. Other people do, Liz does, etc. but it never comes from him. Many examples are listed above, but two very prominent ones that come to mind are in early season 3: the first time Red sees Liz with her blonde hair he is speechless. He just laughs and does that nervous tongue flick tic (say that three times fast) of his, twice, and then gives that dry laugh. That moment is just like every reveal I can think of where the female lead comes out looking hot as hell and the man is speechless. Red can’t fucking string a sentence together - he stops mid-sentence and can barely swallow. Seriously? Seriously writers/powers that be? Get. The. Fuck. Outta. Here. It’s Liz that says something about her mother being blonde and thus looking like her, and Red ignores that too. He doesn’t agree or explain away his reaction at all. There is no explanation or redirect or anything of the sort. The other glaring example that comes to mind is when Red tries to tell Lizzy what he sees when he looks at her and physically can’t get the words out. He just stops mid-sentence, again, and takes a drink instead. When he does finally tell her he can’t even manage to look at her. And I could scream for absolute years into the void about “when I look at you, that’s what I see. I see my way home.” Oh, and the song choice again here? It’s “our house” by Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young and has the line “play your love songs all night long for me, only me,” which you can hear during the scene. I mean, just ... just fuck off writers.

Also, for several weeks while they’re on the run, Red and Liz are hunkered down on a theater stage ... that is staged as a house. They’re literally playing house. *sigh* I hate it here

And now we get to episode 3x05, Arioch Cane. I could write an entire paper on this episode. Maybe I will at some point. Anyway, everything about this episode. Everything about the last, like, 20 minutes of this episode. Solomon calls Liz Red’s girlfriend (and we’re back to this) and not only does no one correct him, he then goes on to give us this: “What is it with you two, anyways? That’s what everyone wants to know. Some say it’s a daddy-daughter thing. Others swear it’s a May/September. I prefer to believe it’s a little of both.” .......... yeah. Right on the nose there, writers. No one will ever convince me that line wasn’t a statement directly from the writers to the audience that yes, the romantic subtext and tension and whatever is there. You’re not crazy, audience, we put that shit there and we did it on purpose. You want to read it as daddy-daughter? Fair and valid. You want to read it as romantic? Also totally fair and valid because we put that shit in there. There’s more I could say about this episode, but honestly at this point my brain is just done.

All of this to say that, up to the point of 3x05, I would argue that Red does not see Lizzy in a familial light. I am less sure about Liz and how she sees Red (for many reasons), but I think it has been established that the writers purposely laid a foundation for the romantic route. I personally fall on that side so far, and I think it would make for such interesting storytelling if they go the May/September route. So many intricate, nuanced roads to explore with that option!

TL; DR: Maybe they don’t go that way later on for whatever reason - and I’m sure as I get farther into the show I will have more on those points - but in the early seasons they purposely left it open to interpretation. The romantic imagery, subtext, tension, etc. is all there, no matter what they decide to do in later seasons.

Thanks for coming to my TEDtalk.

#Jess' thoughts #lizzington #in which I try to make sense of the stylistic choices TPTB have made

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hopelikethemoon · 4 years

Text

Partners (Steve POV) {MTMF}

Title: partners Rating: PG (language!) Length: 3000 Warnings: No warnings! Notes: You can find the Maybe Today, Maybe Forever Timeline here. Set in January 1994. This is one of two updates today! Look for the other mid-day. Summary: Steve and Connie see their old friends again

Taglist: @grapemama @seawhisperer @huliabitch@pedropascalito @rogrsnbarnes@thewallpapergoesorido @twomoonstwosuns @gooddaykate@livasaurasrex @ham4arrow @hiscyarika @plexflexico @readsalot73 @hdlynn@lokiaddicted @randomness501 @fioccodineveautunnale @roxypeanut @just-add-butter@snivellusim @amarvelousmandalorian @lukesrighthand @historynerd04@mrsparknuts @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead

“And he didn’t say who the ‘we’ was?” Connie questioned as she pulled her sweater on before she got out of the car.

Steve popped a Tic Tac into his mouth before pocketing the container, “He was pretty fucking cryptic.” He took Connie’s hand, heading up the sandy path that led to the restaurant from the parking lot.

Javier had picked one that wasn’t far from where Connie and Steve lived, but hadn’t given much indication as to where he — of they — were staying. He’d always been a bit cagey, but this was new. Hadn’t heard word one from him since he’d left Colombia.

Steve pressed the Tic Tac between his back molars, cracking down on it as they walked into the restaurant. It wasn’t as garishly decorated as some of the seafood restaurants down by the boardwalk, but they still had a crocodile proudly on display and a series of shark heads racked up on the walls.

“Peña.” He told the waitress, who guided them back towards a booth near the back of the restaurant.

Steve recognized the back of Javier’s head instantly, but it took him a second to realize who was sitting beside him. Of all the people he expected to be with Javi — he should’ve known it would be her.

He had his arm draped over her shoulders, a gesture that seemed far too familiar to be a new thing.

“You son of a bitch.” Steve said lightly as he and Connie stopped beside the table.

Javier slid out of the booth and hugged him, “Is that how you greet an old friend?” He chastised him, pulling back with a rare grin. Though — maybe it wasn’t rare anymore.

“Oh my God!” Connie’s voice cut through whatever he’d planned to barb Javier with next. “She’s precious!”

“Almost one.” Javier stated, hands on his hips as he turned back towards the table.

“Her name’s Josie,” She explained, picking up the baby and showing her off to Connie. “Don’t be offended if she doesn’t take to you — Javi’s her favorite person.”

Connie laughed incredulously, “When did this—“

“You had a kid?” Steve stared at Javier, eyes flickering between the family of three. “What the fuck?”

Javier rubbed at the back of his neck before he slid back into the booth, waiting for Steve and Connie to sit before he answered. “The night you left.”

Steve dragged a hand over his face and laughed, “I should’ve fucking known.” He turned towards Connie, “I told you—“

“You did.” She laughed, blowing a kiss at Josie. “She’s gorgeous.”

“I might be biased, but I think she’s the prettiest baby around.” Javier smiled proudly at the little girl as she wrestled out of her mother’s arms and into his lap. She grabbed at a crayon on the table, scribbling all over Javier’s napkin.

“Is she why I didn’t hear anything from either of you?” Steve questioned, looking between the two of you. “Because I thought I’d hear something.” He looked at her then, “You even promised.”

“A lot happened.” She shrugged, reaching over to brush her fingers through Josie’s curls. “Josie happened.”

“And you’re together?” Connie questioned.

Javier chuckled, “Yeah.”

Steve let out a huff of laughter, shaking his head. “I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised.”

Josie seemed fed up with her crayon, chucking it across the table at Connie.

“You can’t throw things, Josie.” Javier warned her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

Javier fucking Peña had a daughter.

“So,” Steve started, gesturing between the two of them. “What is this? Are you dating?”

Javier shrugged, “We don’t really have a label for it.”

“Partners. I guess.” She passed Josie a blue crayon, which promptly went into her mouth. “I know you’re hungry, baby. You’ll get some food soon.”

Steve gave Connie a sideways look. Trust the pair of them to choose not to define their relationship. “Just partners?”

Javier rolled his eyes, “Are you asking if we…” He cleared his throat, gesturing to Josie.

“Not in front of the kid.” She warned sternly, before leveling Steve with a look. “Frequently and often.”

“Alrighty then.” Steve laughed, clicking his tongue against his teeth. “Sounds like we need a round of beers.” He flagged down the waitress, ordering a round for the table.

“She’ll take another cup of milk and can we order a plate of fries?” She asked the waitress.

“Ketchup too.” Javier cut in, wrestling the soggy crayon out of her mouth.

“Is she yours?” The waitress questioned Javier, hands on her hips and doing that thing women always seemed to do around Javi. At least that wasn’t just a Colombian special. The man was still a magnet for attention.

“She is.” Javier beamed proudly, “Do you have another one of those coloring sheets?” He didn’t even seem aware of the fact that the waitress was practically shoving her tits in his direction.

Steve shook his head. He never thought he’d live to see the day that Javier wouldn’t notice a woman flirting with him.

“Baby, do you think we should go ahead and get her the mac and cheese?” Javier questioned, turning towards her with an arched brow.

She stifled a laugh, looking towards the clearly annoyed waitress. “Get the apple sauce too, she needs to eat something other than just starch.”

Javier passed the kids menu back to the waitress, “Did you get all of that?”

Despite her annoyance, she flashed him a flirtatious grin that wasn’t reciprocated. “Sure thing.”

Connie laughed. “Wow.”

“Happens all the time.” She rolled her eyes, taking Josie from Javier. “Women see a hot guy with a baby and lose their shit.”

“What?” Javier’s brows furrowed and he looked towards Steve. “Am I missing something?”

“I’m glad you’ve found someone to love, Javi.” Steve told him with a nod of his head, before glancing at her. “You could do better.”

She leaned her head against Javier’s shoulder, in a gesture Steve was very familiar with, when it came to them. “Nah, I lucked out.”

“I still can’t believe it.” Steve remarked, pressing his tongue to the inside of his cheek. They had always been glued at the hip. From the moment she had joined their team, Javier had taken a liking to her. He just hadn’t expected him to ever cross that line. “Is this why you aren’t with the DEA?”

Javier worked his jaw and sighed. “Yeah, they don’t take kindly to this.” He gestured to Josie and her mother. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Steve watched the way she rested her hand on Javier’s shoulder, squeezing it. “So are you… moving to Miami? Just passing through?”

“We’re renting in the southern end of Coral Gables.”

Connie’s eyes widened, “You’ve already moved in?”

She nodded. “We got in last week. It was nice to celebrate New Year’s in our first place together.”

Javier tilted his head, “We celebrated at your place last year.”

“I was pregnant and miserable. You celebrated, you asshole.” She retorted with a roll of her eyes.

He gestured at Josie. “The kid?”

“She’s heard me call you an asshole before.” She shot back, before putting on a too-sweet smile as the waitress returned. “Look, Josie… fries!” She plucked one out of the basket and waved them in front of the little girl’s face.

“If you need anything,” The waitress said pointedly to Javier. “I’ll be right over there.”

“We’re good.” Javier said shortly, passing the ketchup towards Josie. “I know what you’re going to want.”

Steve looked towards Connie, “Can you believe it?”

“Yes and no.” She laughed, “I’m shocked it didn’t happen sooner.”

“Me too.” Steve shrugged and sipped at his beer. He looked back towards Javier and her, “So, house warming party?”

“Sure.”

Javier made a face. “Is it a must?”

Connie grinned, “It would help you meet some of our friends.”

Javier glanced to his left, before acquiescing. “Fine.” Josie tried to fling herself in Javier’s direction, nearly taking her milk cup out with her. “Easy there princesa.” He scooped her up and cradled her to his chest, bouncing her. “Are you going to settle down and eat when your food gets here?”

“Da-dadd-a.” She blew a raspberry directly into his face.

“She’s going through a phase.”

“That Javi encouraged.”

“I bet you Olivia will love having a new friend to play with.” Connie suggested.

“She needs some friends.” She remarked, “Javier thinks he’s all she needs.”

“Well, it’s true.”

“So do you both have jobs lined up?”

“I do.” She answered. “I got a nice gig lined up consulting with Miami P.D. and Javier’s gonna do the stay-at-home thing.”

Steve stared at him. “Really?”

He shrugged a shoulder, lips pursed. “Yeah. I missed out on alot when she was little and I don’t want to miss out on anything else.” He picked up his beer, keeping it out of Josie’s reach. “Not looking for anything at the present.”

“I’ll be damned.” Steve leaned across the table to cheers with Javier. “Never thought you’d be the stay-at-home dad type.”

“People change.” Javier pressed a kiss to the top of Josie’s head, before looking to his left. “We’ve got a good thing going right now.”

She turned and smiled and Steve could tell just how much they adored one another. It had been a long time coming, but he hadn’t expected either one of them to finally give in. Apparently, all it took was him and Connie saying adios to Colombia.

“So are we the godparents?” He questioned, nodding towards Josie.

Javier flipped him off.

#javier pena #javier pena x reader #pedro pascal x reader

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