#Also I am so terrible at writing smut my mind goes blank and I just

[jadewritesficshere]

Insecurity 18+only

Steve Harrington x female!reader

shoutout to all my girlies who are self conscious about their chests.

Synopsis: You feel insecure about your boobs, but Steve shows you there is nothing to be insecure about 18+ ONLY

Contents: negative body image (descriptive about insecurities, self depreciating thoughts), pet names (Honey, Beautiful), groping, unprotected p in v (YALL PLEASE WRAP IT UP), creampie

The gnawing despair and shame that had started earlier in the night had continued to grow, becoming like lead in your stomach. It was movie night at the Harrington residence. As was the tradition after saving the world once or twice, the young adults would get together and watch a movie, eat pizza, and smoke if you felt so inclined.

Tonight was Eddie's pick, some B horror movie. You hadn't really paid attention, more focused on watching Nancy and Steve talking. The despondent feeling had started then, even if you knew they no longer had feelings for each other, you felt insecure. You felt as though you couldn't compare to Nancy. You loved Nancy, she was amazing. Hell, you weren't sure if you wanted to be her or be with her.

But you definitely knew you liked Steve. You hadn't even told Steve of your feelings for him, having your heart ripped out as you watched him go out on many dates, and feeling like an asshole for being glad they didn't end well.

The feeling grew as the movie started. Robin and Eddie, taking their roles as film critics seriously, talked about the techniques being used and made comments throughout. Nancy told them to hush many times, but they ignored her. It wasn't until one of the female characters had her shirt ripped open, causing her bare chest to be on display, that caused silence to occur. Her breasts were bigger than yours and perfectly even and round. Nipples that were hardened and like a beacon your eyes drifted to. Her breasts swayed in an almost hypnotizing way as she ran. You would have been the first to admit they were attractive.

"Damn," one of the guys had muttered, causing you to look over. Eddie's eyes were glued to the TV and for once he was silent.. Robin was blushing and her mouth was dropped open. Steve shifted on the couch, his hand going to adjust- oh.

Your stomach dropped and you felt like your veins had turned to ice. Of course this is what Steve would like. You didn't have a bad chest persay, but you were always self conscious of it. In fact, yours were uneven. Sure, they weren't an entire cup size different, but one cup of your bra would fit perfectly while the other was just slightly too big or too small depending on the bra. You knew that you were probably making a bigger issue out of things, but you couldn't help your insecurity. You noticed the difference every time you looked in the mirror, even if no one else did.

You hardly even noticed the movie ending. You couldn't even remember the plot. You nodded at the discussion Eddie had started, trying to make it seem like you had paid attention. You could feel Steve's eyes on you. "Are you okay?" Steve mouthed from across the couch. You smiled and nodded, but the look of concern didn't leave his face. Of course the one guy you wanted to seem normal to could tell something was off.

Slowly, everyone gathered their things to leave. Robin and Nancy left together while you were searching for your keys. Eddie had went to the restroom then left, saying something about a deal. You still couldn't find your keys. You always left them on the table in the hall, but they were nowhere to be found. This was just making your night worse. The icing on the cake. Like when you are already mad and your belt loop gets caught on the door handle. You grumble to yourself, when you hear Steve clear his throat.

You turn to glance at him. Steve had your keys in his hand. He jingled them before tossing them at you. You fumble with the catch, but don't drop them. Why the hell would Steve steal your keys?

Steve stood at the end of the hall in front of the front door. He had his arms crossed over his chest. "What's going on?" Steve demanded. You rolled your eyes at his tone, earning a glare," Seriously? You're acting strange, what happened?" "Nothing. Thanks for stealing my keys asshole." "It's called borrowing, you got them back." You attempt to slide by Steve but he blocks you. Almost like a game, you try to slide past and he blocks you.

You fake to the left, making Steve attempt to block you there, but slide past him on the right. You grasp the door handle but-

The handle slips from your grasp as Steve spins you around and pins you to the door. His arms blocking you on either side, holding onto your biceps. You drop your keys on the floor from surprise. A moment of silence between you two as you both realize the position you're in.

"What's going on? Did...did I do something?" Steve frowns at you. Your stomach drops at the look of disappointment on his face," No! Steve just...no." "You can't even look at me without frowning." His words make you realize you are indeed frowning. You must have been frowning at him all night. You attempt to smile, but the attempt is pitiful and Steve sighs," I'm sorry...I dont know what I did, but I am." "Steve you didn't do-" "No, no. Let me finish. I'm sorry that-" "Steve-" "-i never meant to make you uncomfortable, if you tell me what it is I can avoid doing it again-" "Steve I-" "- let me speak! I'm sorry i-"

"It's my boobs!" Your voice is loud, not yelling, but loud enough that there was no way Steve could ignore it. You bite your bottom lip and his mouth drops open slightly. He closes his mouth and swallows, your eyes flicking to his Adam's apple moving. You don't miss how his eyes snap down to your chest that was covered by your shirt.

"Uh I'm sorry?" Steve blinked a few times before looking into your eyes," I think I'm missing something?" Nerves wrack your stomach, embarrassed at the feelings of insecurity you had. You fidget under his gaze," Well I mean...the movie...she...mine don't look..."

Steve's eyes widen slightly with realization. "Oh Honey...there's nothing to be self-conscious about." You scoff at his words making him glare. "Seriously, all boobs are beautiful. Big, small, perky or not, I could go on. Even, uneven, doesn't matter to me.. Boobs are boobs. And they all are beautiful." "Not mine." Steve rolls his eyes," Yes yours." "Nuh-uh" "Yuh-huh!" You and Steve bicker back and forth before the thought fuck it runs through your mind.

You grab the hem of your sweater, yanking it up. You're glad now that you had worn the severely baggy sweater without a bra. Your breasts jiggle slightly with movement, Steve's eyes immediately darting to them.

He licks his lips as he stares at your chest. Your chest rising and falling with every breath you take. His gaze heavy, making you aware of what you just did. You go to lower your sweater and his hands dart out to hold yours up," Now hold on..."

He smirks at you and lowers one hand down to your left boob. He palms at it, making you realize how big his hand really is. He squeezes lightly before lifting your breast and letting go, watching your breast fall and jiggle. He groans and the sound goes straight between your legs. His other hand darts to your other breast. You can tell there is a difference in size against his hands, but Steve doesn't seem to care.

Your nipples start to harden from arousal and the cool air. Steve's eyes focused on the peaks as his thumbs rub over each one. A shudder runs through you and goosebumps run down your arms from Steve's feather light touch. Steve's eyes are lit up with barely contained lust.

"Don't know why you were concerned about these...They're perfect." Steve mumbles, dipping his head close to your chest before looking up at you. The unspoken question has you nodding your consent. Steve grins slightly before slowly kissing your chest. A kiss here and there. A slight bite. Licking and swirling his tongue. He sucks lightly on one nipple, sending shivers down your spine.

You can feel your arousal start to dampen your panties. A light moan escapes your mouth before you bite your lip to hold it back. Steve groans at the sound before pulling back. "Fuck babe..." Steve exhales slowly. He closes his eyes trying to get a grip on himself. You aren't sure if you should lower your top or take it off. Steve shifts and your eyes dart down and-

Oh. A thrill of pride runs through you at seeing Steve's erection. Knowing you gave him that? Knowing you got him worked up just from the part of you that you are the most insecure of? It may not take away that insecurity fully, but it does help to lessen it in this moment. You lick your lips at the sight. Damn, it was big.

Steve's hands slowly grasp yours and lower your sweater. "We uh better put those away. Or I'm gonna have a hard time controlling myself." Steve clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair. You nod absent-mindedly. You pause and then say," Who says you have to control yourself?"

Steve growls and crowds you against the door. Your arms go over his shoulders, a hand in his hair and one on his neck. Your noses knock together slightly before his lips collide against yours. Soft but passionate. Your chest rubs against his as he pushes a leg between yours. The friction hits your pelvis as you both grind against each other.

You can feel the roughness of his jeans through the fabric of your pants, it hitting just right to feel amazing against your clit. You pull back with a gasp, Steve taking the opportunity to kiss down your jaw. You aren't sure if he maneuvers your head, or if you turn it to give him better access. You can feel a hint of pain as he nips his teeth, that turns into pleasure as he sucks and licks the spot. He trails down from your jaw to your neck, to the spot that makes your fingers and thighs clench. You know your underwear must be soaked at this point.

"Steve," you tap his neck to get his attention and he pulls back to look at you," Bedroom?" Steve's eyes light up and a blinding grin spreads across his face. He lets go of you and takes a step back. Steve grabs your hand, interlocking your fingers. His hand bigger then yours, but feeling like a puzzle piece sliding into place. Butterflies in your stomach taking flight as it felt so right.

Steve leads you up the stairs and into his bedroom. He lightly closes the door and pulls his shirt off. You can't help inhaling sharply at the sight. Pale skin scattered with beautiful moles, like stars in the night sky. You want to kiss each one. His chest hair and that stupid happy trail, it made your mouth salivate. Steve flexes his biceps slightly, trying to show off. You wouldn't tell him, but he didn't need to show off for you. You thought he was beautiful just as he was. Even when he was a "loser" (his own words not yours).

You toss your sweater off quickly, not wanting to miss a second. You push your pants and underwear off in the same movement. It hit you suddenly, that you were naked in Steve's room. This had only happened in your dreams, and if this was one, you didn't want to wake up.

Your eyes dart back to Steve as his jeans come off with his boxers. Steve's dick stands to attention, lightly hitting his stomach. A smattering of curls neatly trimmed at the base. A prominent vein on its side. You can see a mole on one of his balls, and you still agree with your earlier thought of kissing every mole. You lick your lips at the thought. Steve goes to take his tube socks off and falters slightly, almost falling.

It takes some nerves away you didn't realize you had as you giggle at the man in front of you. Steve's face flushes with embarrassment, but that feeling goes away as he sees you getting comfy on his bed. In his mind, you look like you belong. Like this was the perfect place for you. Steve gets his socks off and tosses them away, stalking over to you.

Steve slowly crawls onto the bed and over you. You grin up at him as he braced himself over you. "Hi," you murmur before kissing him. You can feel one of his hands snaking down your arm and grabbing your hand. He holds your hand as you kiss, making your head spin. Something so innocent as holding hands mixed with the way his tongue was moving against yours made it feel incredibly dirty. You knew you would think about this moment every time you held hands, because now you weren't going to let his hand go that easily.

Steve slowly lines up, rubbing his dick through your folds. A shiver of pleasure runs down your spine as he rubs against you clit. You whimper slightly, bucking against him. Once his dick is coated thoroughly with your arousal, he teases your hole with his tip. The lightest touch of pressure, just so you know he's there before he pulls away.

You can feel the head of his dick slip in slightly, both of you moaning. "Ready?" He asks and you nod. He slowly pushes in, pausing to give you time to adjust to his length. It has a slight sting of pain as you stretch to adjust for his size. Steve murmurs apologies as he kisses your face, going back to the spot on your neck he found earlier. You relax against him and he pushes in all the way.

You've never felt so full. The feeling was amazing. Steve slowly starts to pull out before pushing back in. Each thrust of his dick sending pleasure coursing through you. You wrap your legs around his waist, allowing him to hit a different angle that causes you to moan.

Panting into each other's mouths as he thrusts into you. Steve moans wantonly, sending shivers down your spine. With every thrust he hits that spot that makes you see stars. You can feel your climax approaching. "Give it to me Honey," Steve murmurs, hand snaking down and circling your clit.

You crash over the edge before you realize you were even there. You spasm from pure unadulterated pleasure. Stars explode in your vision as ecstasy takes over. "Oh fuck you're-" Steve cuts off with a gasp as his hips stutter. You are floating through space, barely tethered to your body. You thought out of body experiences only happened when you were about to die, but the pleasure you felt sent you to new heights.

Steve's thrusts falter as he cums. You start to come back to earth as you feel his release paint your insides. Steve collapses on you, not in an unpleasant manner, but like a weighted blanket was laid on you. You wrap your arms around his waist in a loose hug (and if you squeezed his ass well thats just for you two to know). You can feel his heaving breaths as his chest rubs against yours.

Steve pulls back slightly to stare into your eyes. "Hi again," you giggle. "Hi Beautiful," He grins at you. You try to hide your face in his neck but he laughs and pulls back more, making you whine. "Don't go shy on me," Steve kisses your nose," I've seen you naked now. Nothing left to be shy about." You would argue but Steve kisses you again.

Steve slowly pulls out and you whine at the loss. You can feel his cum slowly drip out of you. He pulls back but you tighten your arms around his waist. "Hey, I'll be right back. Just gonna get a towel to clean up." Steve strokes your jaw. You reluctantly let go of the man so he can go get a towel. Steve leaves and returns quickly. A wet wash cloth in hand, Steve pauses at the sight of his release dripping out of you. You can tell he likes what he sees, making a mental note. He cleans you up, careful as you are still sensitive.

Soon, he is crawling back into bed next to you. He curls into you, wrapping an arm around your waist as his head goes to lay against your chest. You wrap one arm around his waist while the other hand goes to his hair. You both sigh contentedly. "Beautiful," Steve mumbles, kissing your breast. Yeah, your insecurity was definitely lessened in this moment. And you had a feeling that every time it started to grow, Steve would show you how he felt about them.

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

❛ I'M GONNA PROTECT YOU ❜

with Angel Reyes, and reader as Che ‘Taza’ Romero' daughter.

Request: Oooh Could it be where you are a younger sibling to one of the guys or a daughter to either the older three? And you and Angel are somewhat good friends? Well one day you are alone at your house and you hear a noise outside and it freaks you out so you grab your gun and call your brother/dad and they are busy at the moment but they send Angel to check it out and he comes and turns out it's someone trying to break in. Anyway the guy runs away and it ends in some Smut? Then your relative comes!

BY @firebenderwolf

Warnings: brief violence described, I think.

Word count: about 1.8k

Aurora says: I wrote it listening a cover of ‘La Llorona’, by Natalia Doco, so I recommend you to listen this song while you read it. This writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: @angels-reyes

Masterlist.

You can subscribe to my broadcast list, to be notified whenever I post a writing!

The barks coming from the open field, next to the barns, suddenly wakes you up. Your dogs never barks in the middle of the night. You don't give them much importance, lying back on bed again, until they start to howl. Getting up and sticking your head closer to the window, you find some big figures cutting part of the wire fence with a pair of shears. Grabbing your phone, you call your father while leading your feet to his room, to grab the gun under his pillow. A nine millimeters semi automatic, enough to chase them away. Taking off the safety and raising your arms to the high of your eyes, you hang up the call. Probably, Taza will be at Vicki's house getting drunk with Bishop and Tranq, so you type Angel's number by heart. Going downstairs, your eyes looking straight forward, trying to make the least noise possible while you hear the howls and barks getting louder.

“Angel, there's two guys trying to come into my house, and my dad doesn't answer”.

“I'm going, mami. Hide and don' fuckin' move”.

The adrenaline was running through your body, and until you listened to his voice, you didn't notice that you were actually terrified. Gulping, you just hope that they don't hurt your animals. Keeping your phone muttered in a pocket, you hold the gun with both hands. The logic act would be calling the cops, but that is not an option for someone like you, nor your father. Crossing the huge and open living room, you decide to hide yourself into a wardrobe behind a folding screen that your great-grandfather made with his own hands.

Your heart races jumping inside your chest when you are able to hear their voices. Mexicans with a terrible american accent. Sticking your left ear to the door, you try to glimpse if you know them. And it is possible. Biting your bottom lip really nervous, you begin to text your father telling him what's happening, until your body shakes violently when a lot of small glasses fall to the floor after a heavy racket. The thieves are now entering into your house. And actually, they're not going to find anything. Your father is too intelligent to keep his money and valuables belongings inside there. But you're actually terrified because, yes, you know how to fire a gun; but you have never done it to defend yourself. And the only thing you can do right now is to wait. Your father is also coming with the older part of the crew after reading your text messages.

The barks outside don't cease, but your dogs are locked taking care of the animals, and you prefer it. You don't want them to get hurt. And the different noises of more glasses crashing, and different pieces of furniture falling to the floor are turning you anxious. The tears filling up your eyes and your shaky breathing don't help to stay calmed. Resting your back against the wall, with the gun raised to the door, you think that you are ready to fire it as soon as someone opens it.

Gulping a bunch of saliva, when you stop to hear them whispering curses in spanish after some minutes, the heavy steps upstairs call your attention; as the continues buzz of an engine getting closer to the ranch, speeding up in the moment it crosses the main fence. In complete silence, you step out from the wardrobe, with your trembling fingers securing the weapon between them. Checking that there's no one around you, your feet run to the main door to open it. Angel is already there. Without taking off the helmet, the man passes you away with his own gun lifted up in front of his dark eyes. Following him to the stairs, each other take up a side of the wall, waiting for them to go downstairs. The first one appears asking the other to leave, after not finding anything, but before he can warn his sidekick, Angel is already pointing at him, making him a sign to stay silent.

“Mario, where are you?” You hear from the top.

Taking off the gun from the thief's hands, you leave it over the table. But making a false move, the mexican manages to punch Angel, starting to wrestle with him.

“RUN, ANTONIO! MAYA—MAYANS ARE HERE!”

Your mind goes blank by the shock of seeing him fighting, and the weapon sliding itself over the floor, in the meantime the other man runs away jumping through a window and using the bindweeds around the house as stairs. Watching how the other tries to beat the oldest Reyes, you point at them with trembling hands.

“Leave him, pend—”.

Because of the nerves running through your veins, your forefinger presses the trigger shooting the thief by his back. A painful grunt floods the living room. Angel pushes him away, while the mexican writhes between tears and growls. Grabbing the gun from your hands, to not fire anyone else, your friend places an arm over your shoulders to turn you, giving your back to the thief. At the moment he tries to fight again, almost standing up, Angel shoots him again. Twice. Straight to the chest. Clinged to his body, you can't help but break into cries, hiding your face in his neck.

“Look at me… Look at me. Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He mumbles, leaving away the weapon, so he can cup your cheek in his hands.

You just nod swallowing, feeling his lips pressed on your forehead, before stretching an arm to the wall to turn on the lights.

“Com'ere, baby”. He says, urging you to slightly jump into him, wrapping your legs around his waist.

Your tears wet the franel shirt he's wearing inconsolably, leading his steps to the kitchen, away from the dead body staining the floor with the blood gushing out of it. Helping you to sit over the island in the middle of the place, Angel hurries up to bring you a glass of water, not knowing how to calm you down more than with leaving some caresses in your hair. You try to swallow but your throat is hermetically closed, coughing some times, while the salty tears keep flowing onto your lips.

“Did I… Did I ki—killed him?”

“No, no, no”. He says, putting the ringed fingers by both sides of your face, affected deeply by the look of horror in your orbs. “I did it, okay? You hear me? I did it”.

You know him from seven years ago, having a special connection from the beginning. You have been through a lot of shit together, but you never expected something like that happening. Putting the glass away from your trembling fingers, Angel holds you against his body, tightly hugging you, trying to make you feel somewhat better while the crew come to the ranch.

“Please… Stop crying… It's okay”. He mutters with a broken voice, not used to feel you so terrified. “I'm here, baby… I'm gonna protect you”.

“I'm sor—sorry, Angel”.

“Don' be silly. You don' have to be sorry 'bout nothing”. He chuckles softly, leaving a kiss on your right cheek. “Am your superhero, remember?”

The Reyes finally breathes when he hears you laughing with a low, low tone.

“I would never let anyone hurt you”. Sticking his forehead on yours, he closes his eyes for a second, feeling how your fingers get intertwined in his shirt.

You just nod, trying to catch back your breath, almost drinking his. The strokes by his thumbs over your skin helps to maintain a calmed pulse, beating your heart with a low pace; only focused on his touches. Your mind plays a dirt trick on you, making you lean forward some inches until his lips are being pressed by yours. But Angel isn't surprised, and doesn't have any intention to pull himself away, strengthening his fingers on your neck. Your mouths look like two pieces from a puzzle, destined to fit perfectly. Settling himself between your legs to be closer, your hands travel to the back of his head, as your lips start to move softly, tasting every single inch of his. Sliding his tongue inside your mouth to find yours, you can't help but feel a mix of feelings about it. Now you are confused about the fact that you don't know if you're doing it because of the horror lived, or because you really wanted to do it since long ago.

Running out of air, Angel continues kissing your cheek up to your temple with short and gentle gestures, clinging his arms around your body. You have never felt so serene, even if there's a dead body in the middle of your living room and the buzz of some engines are getting louder. He is warm, and seems like he smells better than never, resting your face on his chest with closed eyes. Angel's heart beat is like a hypnotic melody that could make you fall asleep just like that, as if you two were completely alone and you haven't been about to kill a man, for the first time, some minutes ago.

“BAB—HOLY SHIT! BABY! BABY, WHERE ARE YOU?”

As soon as Angel pulls away himself from you, your legs jump down to the floor, running to the place where your father's voice comes from. Your body collides with his surrounding him, breaking in crying again when you feel him finally holding you. Bishop, Tranq and Riz are also there, examining the man lying on the floor with no breath of life in him.

“¿Estás bien? ¿Estás herida, mi amor?” (Are you okay? Are you hurt?) Taza is desperate, looking at you with reddened eyes as you nod in silence. “What happened?”

“There were two men. This… son of a bitch's name is Mario. The other ran away by a window. Antonio, I think he said”. Angel explains under the gaze from his brothers. “Man… they knew where they were getting into”.

“Why?” Bishop asks.

“They knew we are Mayans”. Angel shakes his head slightly, rubbing his forehead with two fingers. “And they were mexicans”.

“I think I know him”. Tranq is squatted close to the dead body, narrowing his eyes as he studies his face. “Vatos or Coyotes, I am not sure, Bishop”.

“Figure it out and put in on the table”. Taza demands with the rage consuming him, hugging you tightly under his arms.

“Let's go”. Bishop moves his head to the main door, making the others know that they must go. “Angel, calls the guys. Take care of the trash”.

“Come here, mi vida”. Your father whispers carrying you into his arms upstairs, not wanting you to continue there. “We're going to take some clothes and leave to the club, okay?”

✨ Tag list:

@starrynite7114 ​ @chibsytelford ​ @dazzledamazon ​ @mara-mpou ​ @sammskellington ​ @gemini0410 ​ @1-800-imagines ​ @briana-mishell24 ​@sassymox @aquamento @sadeyesgf @viviansafizada @samcrobae @jade770 @witchy-wish @rebel-without-cause-x @xx--day-dreamer--xx @spiced-reads @tita127 @ifoundmyhappythought @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @angelxshiba @destynelseclipsa @sheeshgivemeabreak @abbiesthings @knowles-morgan @lady-pswrld @minnicelli @marquelapage @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @jadesamhart @mycupoffanfiction @claytoncardenasbabymama @thesandbeneathmytoes @phoenixhalliwell @thewarriorprincessxo @sugary-x-sweet @multiyfandomgirl40 @imanerdychubbyqueen @iambabyharry @firebenderwolf @itsanofrommesir @noz4a2 @peaches007 @edonaspanca @irenne-stans @skyofficialxx @that-chick212

[walker-lister]

Fic writer review

Tagged by @picnokinesis thank you Taka! 

1. How many works do you have on Ao3?

Twelve! (I’ll have to write another to make it 13 lol!)

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count?

665,232

3. How many fandoms have you written for?

Just the one that I’ve posted online- Doctor Who, and specifically Thirteen! 

4. Top 5 fics by kudos?

1. Rising Tides (270)- I’m incredibly touched this has the most kudos as this was the first that I put a lot of effort into, I had with my previous works but this one was longer and covered complex themes, so it’s very touching! 

2. Timeless (214)- This is the first fic I wrote! I remember doing it right after the series 12 finale as I was so compelled by the ending! I’m very pleased it’s been appreciated, a very kind way to be welcomed into the writing community!

3. On Hallowed Ground (127)- This one I also find so touching and I’m so pleased this many people enjoyed it as I became consumed by this and wrote it over 6 days so to know so many others also enjoyed something that quite literally consumed me and basically wrote itself is just fantastic! 

4. Ipseity (123)- I have a soft spot for this one, too, my first longer (ish) fic that I planned out and I’m really pleased people enjoyed it! I think it all started because I wanted to see 13 in a leather jacket and was very intrigued by the prospect of her having past lives she didn’t know about! 

5. Heaven Sent (110)- Ahh, I’m so happy this has made it to this list! I’m writing the final two chapters now and it’s been a passion project, my whole heart’s gone into it so to know this many have enjoyed thus far and we’ve still got a while to go (just coming up to halfway!) is really... ahh, I’m chuffed! 

5. Do you respond to comments? Why/why not?

Absolutely, they’re so precious to writers and I really appreciate people taking the time to leave one! Also, it’s nice to chat with your readers and it’s how I’ve made many friends! 

6. A fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Hmmm I had to think about this for a while, I don’t really think I’ve got any with an angsty ending, I think bittersweet might be the closest, in which case I’ll say ‘On Hallowed Ground’ as it’s angsty with the circumstances but also hopeful at the end.

7. Do you write crossovers?

No, although sometimes my mind wanders over doing a Doctor Who/Merlin crossover fic, all for the bants of seeing those characters interact (Graham and Gauis immediate besties), but I don’t think I’ll ever write it!

8. Ever received hate on a fic?

I have not, which is nice! 

9. Do you write smut?

hahaha nope! I do include sexual themes in my work, but do that annoying thing where it cuts away before they get to the actual smut bit! I just can’t do it, it’d be terrible, although I know someone who wants me to ( @ivyinspace 😉)

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Wait that happens? 

11. Ever had a fic translated?

Nope but if anyone wants to please don’t hesitate to get in touch!

12. Have you ever co-written a fic?

I have not, although had talks about it!

13. All time fav ship?

All time?! Gotta be the Titanic. Lmao no I’d say Thasmin, although I am partial to some Thoscei 

14. WIP you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I’ll be honest, I don’t think I’ll ever finish Cosmic Fireworks. I wish I’d left it as a one shot tbh but I don’t want to delete the second chapter off ao3. But I can’t see myself finishing it, I wasn’t into it as much as I am normally with my fics, but we’ll see, who knows, perhaps one day I’ll wake up with the inclination! 

15. Writing strengths?

*mind goes blank* 

ermm... I think I’m quite good at taking complex themes and exploring them well- I find that the pieces come together easily in my mind and (provided I write it all out and plan first) it’s like I can lay out a problem and carefully craft the solution. I suppose that might make me good at characterisation? I also think that I’m good at setting the scene and describing places maybe.  

16. Writing weaknesses?

I write way too much, I need to be more concise. Also I think I have a habit of needing my characters to show they’re good people, and that means sometimes my own voice carries over into theirs, and perhaps I could be better at exploring the complexities of characters, if that makes sense (something that goes beyond characterisation is what I mean, like maybe I’m making the point too hard sometimes). I also think that sometimes I need to chill- there doesn’t have to be a big point to scenes sometimes, no great narrative or thing to take away, sometimes it’s just the pleasure of reading something that’s important, even if it’s silly. 

17. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic?

I wish I could speak another language, but alas I cannot, otherwise I would, but I would then put translation. 

18. First fandom you wrote for?

It was actually Merlin, I never published it online but it was when I was about 13/14 and first discovered fanfic and was a huge fan of Merlin I thought, ‘that sounds fun let’s do it’! I was already writing little silly stories anyway so it was like a whole new concept which also felt familiar, although they were awful so I’m glad they never went online! 

19. What’s your fav fic you’ve written so far?

Agh idk! In terms of a story I think is good quality and engaging, I’d say ‘On Hallowed Ground’ as it’s concise, the plot and emotions mix well, I think, and overall I’m really proud of it. But in terms of my favourite one to write, I’m not sure if I can pick one. I enjoy writing them all, although tbh with some there are chapters I just have to grit my teeth through to write (by my own fault because I make things way too complicated!), but enjoyment is what it’s about! But maybe I’d single out my aus because they’re more my own invention that the others, in particular Heaven Sent- so that and Rising Tides, final answer! (see, this is what I mean, I write too much jfc...)

This is open to anyone who wants to do it!! 😊

[ladyfogg]

Cold is the Night - 10/20

Cold is the Night - 10/20

Fic Summary: You and Pat have known each other for years but this summer, everything will change. As the two of you start to grow close, your matching tempers threaten the foundation of your rocky friendship and prevent both of you from realizing your true feelings. Cold is the Night Masterpost. 

A/N: You guys have been so amazing, I am blown away by your messages and responses. I can’t believe how quickly this has taken off! I love this story and it makes me all warm and fuzzy that you guys seem to love it too.

Fic Song: Cold is the Night by The Oh Hellos. Fic playlist can be found here. 

Pairing: Pat Murray/Female Reader

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: Language, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Multiple Chapters

Gif by @joemazzellos-blog

By some miracle, you didn't get fired. Mostly your boss wanted to make sure you were okay and to ask for the complete story so he could write up a report for the managers. Drunk Guy wasn’t allowed anywhere near the bar and he was determined to let the others know why. 

You were still furious with Vinnie and Pat. You had had the situation under control until they jumped in and made everything worse. 

Vinnie stepping in was understandable. He was your big brother and though you and he fought constantly, he would be damned if someone else tried anything. 

You were more bothered by Pat stepping in than you thought you would be. Part of it definitely had to do with possibly losing your job. But it was much more than that. At least it felt like it was. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it and you didn’t want to get into a discussion with Pat until you could fully explain your feelings. 

So, you did what you always do. You turned your phone off and gave yourself time to fume.

When you turned your phone on Monday morning, you had several missed calls and texts from him. But they didn’t keep coming, and you weren’t sure if you were happy or bummed about it. You distracted yourself with work and arranging your house. It helped. Somewhat. 

On the day of the game, you couldn't bring yourself to go. You wanted to, badly, but you were worried about getting into another fight with Pat. Or worse, seeing him and instantly forgiving him. You had done that in the past before and it always came back to bite you in the ass. 

"Nellie, it's all a fucking mess."

You were currently slumped over your kitchen table as Nellie cleaned the coffee mugs you two had just used. It was the day after the game and while you wanted to talk to Pat more than anything, you still couldn’t figure out your feelings.

"Yes, yes it is," Nellie said. "You want to know how to fix it?"

"Yes, please tell me."

"Fucking call him."

“You know I can’t do that. Not yet.”

“Why not?”

You sighed heavily and sat back in your chair. “Because I honestly don’t know what to tell him. Every time I think about it, my anxiety goes through the roof and my mind goes blank. Also, what if he doesn't want to hear from me?"

"He does."

"How do you know? I was pretty bitchy to him."

"He’s crazy about you, he’ll understand. Besides, he’s been more than bitchy to you on numerous occasions.”

You were torn. One part of you told you to hold strong to your feelings, another said to let them go and just forgive him. The latter part of you came from years of keeping your emotions bottled up and you were working on telling that part to fuck off. Your emotions were valid, no matter how confusing they were. 

“He's going to want to know why I reacted the way I did. How can I explain it?" you asked.

"Just be honest," Nellie said. "You were right to be pissed that he picked a fight at your job."

"It's more than that though," you said. "When he threw that punch, I just had a flashback of my ex doing the same thing."

"Pat's not your ex. And if he says it wasn't jealousy, then you should listen to him."

"My ex said the same thing too."

Nellie sighed your name. "Don't blame Pat for the past actions of someone else."

“That’s easier said than done. I can’t just undo years of emotional abuse.”

“And I’m not asking you to. No one is. But you can’t approach Pat like he’s your ex. He doesn’t deserve that. He’s his own person, this is a completely different situation. You have to try to remind yourself of that. I’m not saying to up and forgive him. I’m just telling you to talk it out.”

She was right. Pat had reacted instinctively. He had no idea what you had been through. How could he? You hadn't told him. 

But what if you did tell him and he didn't understand? What if he thought you were too much work and decided he wasn't up to dealing with your baggage? 

While talking it out seemed like the most logical step, anxiety didn’t play nice with logic. It took your worst fears and convinced you they were the truth, no matter how hard you tried to remind yourself they weren't. 

Just then, a knock came at the door. Confused, you went to answer it only to find a delivery woman holding a large bouquet of flowers. She said your name in confirmation before she handed them over.

"These are for you."

Stunned, you took the bouquet, your heart racing. “Um, I didn’t order any flowers.”

“Someone ordered them for you,” she smiled. “He was pretty insistent they be delivered today.”

He.

Pat.

It had to be. He was the only one to ever give you flowers. 

Burying your nose in the rose petals, you inhaled their scent with a smile. “I’m sure he was.”

“Where should I put the others?”

“The what now?”

Ten minutes later she left and you found yourself in the living room, every surface covered in various flower arrangements. They were a rainbow of colors, all bright and fresh as if they had just been cut that morning.

In the largest bouquet, you found a small card written in untidy handwriting. All it said was: I’m ready to talk when you are.

Nellie came in from the kitchen just as you set the card down. “Vinnie just called, he’s--holy shit! Who died? Oh my god, did one of us die?”

You laughed, face flushed. “No one died. They’re from Pat.”

Nellie gave you a smug smile and crossed her arms. “I told you he’s crazy about you.”

“Apparently so.”

She plucked a flower for herself, tucking it behind her ear. “I was going to ask if you wanted to come with Vinnie and me to dinner but I think you have a phone call to make.”

“Yes, yes I do.”

"What are you going to say?"

"I have no fucking idea."

Nellie left a short while later, but it still took you some time to work up the nerve to grab your phone. Even when you did, you quickly put it back down. You admired the flowers, realizing Pat must have ordered every arrangement they had. While it was overkill, it was incredibly sweet. And very Pat.

You glanced down at the sweatshirt you were wearing, the one he had left the day after your party. You had worn it every time you were home. At first it was because it smelled like him, even after you had washed it. Once that faded, you kept wearing it because it reminded you of him.

Finally, unable to stand it any longer, you took a deep breath, picked up the phone, and called him. 

It only rang once before he answered breathlessly. “Hello?”

Just the sound of his voice made your heart skip a beat. You swallowed thickly before answering. “Hey, Murray."

He paused, almost as if it took him a moment to register it was actually you on the other line. "You called."

"I just got your little presents.”

“Do you like them? I didn’t know what kind of flowers you liked so I just got them all.”

“Uh, yeah, I can see that.”

There was a beat of awkward silence before he spoke up. “I’m really glad you reached out,” he said, sounding relieved. “I thought you wouldn’t.”

“I’m sorry for ignoring you. I just...I needed to work some stuff out.”

“Are you home? Can I come over? I want to see you.”

“I want to see you too,” you said. “But, we shouldn’t right now. I still need some space.”

“Oh...okay. Of course. Whatever you need.” Pat sounded like he was trying to come across as understanding but you could tell he was hurting just as bad as you were.

It brought tears to your eyes and you squeezed them shut, trying to will them away. The last thing you wanted was to hurt him.

Hearing his voice was so much worse than you thought it would be. How had this happened? How had Pat Murray become so important to you that just hearing him made your heart try to leap out of your chest?

Pat said your name when you didn’t respond for a while. “Are you still there?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m here, sorry,” you said, clearing your throat. 

“We don’t need to talk right now if you aren’t up for it,” Pat said. “I don’t mind staying on the line. I’ve got nowhere else to be.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. “You just want to sit in silence on the phone with me?” 

"Yes."

"Why?"

“Because at least I know you’re there.”

“Murray, why do you have to say such cute shit when I’m being emotional? How dare you?”

“I’m terribly sorry,” he teased. “Let me fix it.” He cleared his throat before speaking in a forced, nonchalant voice. “It’s whatever, babe. I mean, you can just call me later. It’s cool.”

“Ugh, never talk like that again. You sound like Barone."

Pat chuckled, speaking regularly. “Noted. I wanted to punch myself if that makes you feel better.”

“A little.”

Silence followed again, this time more comfortable than before. You absentmindedly played with one of the roses, thinking of how the softness of the petal reminded you of Pat’s lips. 

“For what it's worth, I really am sorry,” Pat said in a soft voice. “I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.”

“I know you didn’t, Pat. Besides, I didn’t actually get in trouble. So it’s okay.”

“No, not it’s not okay,” he said. “People are always telling me to get a grip on my anger and I don’t care if it affects me personally, but I care if my anger affects you.”

In that moment, you realized how incredibly different Pat was from anyone you had ever been with before. His consideration in the face of his own shitty behavior made you want to take stock of yourself and make sure you also owned up to your actions. 

“Thank you. It means a lot to me to hear you say that.”

“You’re welcome.”

More silence.

"So…" You didn't know what to say but you felt like you should say something. "How was the game?"

"Ugh, fucking miserable."

"I'm sorry. Did you guys lose?"

"No. We won."

"Then why was it miserable?"

Pat didn't answer right away. When he did, his voice was quiet. "I was distracted."

Well shit.

"I'm sorry, Pat. I didn't mean to…"

"Don't. It's not your fault," Pat interrupted, stopping you from blaming yourself. "If I was better at baseball I wouldn't get distracted so easily."

"Don't do that. Don't put yourself down. You know I hate when you do."

"I can't help it."

"Well try. For me."

"For you? Anything."

You smiled, hugging your knees to your chest. You happened to look at the clock and sighed when you caught sight of the time. “I need to get ready for work,” you said sadly. “I should probably hang up now.”

“Can we...are you comfortable texting me again? I miss talking to you.”

You almost said no, but you knew deep down it wasn’t what you wanted. You missed talking to him too much. “Yeah. We can text again.”

“Cool...great.” You could hear him smiling. “Have a good night at work.”

“I’ll try.”

When you hung up, you felt much better. There was still a lot you needed to figure out on your own, but knowing Pat would be there waiting made all the difference.