#and I’m having a hard time keeping from crying so I can like function | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

seitmai · 2 days ago

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Very late and very many thoughts, so I'm gonna utilize the read more function

“How the hell are you still consistently finding this much alcohol? We’re barely finding enough food.” Heaving himself up until he’s sitting on the edge of his mattress, Jake rests his head heavily in his hands as the world continues to spin around him. Still slurring slightly, he mutters, “‘s not enough. Two bottles a night aren’t helpin’ anymore. Nightmare’s back.”

😬😬😬

The water heater broke a few months ago and with no one left in their dwindling group who knew how to fix it, freezing showers had become the norm.

Not me adding "learn basics of fixing a water heater" to my to do list lmao

Jake used to use the board as his motivation to keep fighting, to not let more names be added to the list. But now that it contains so many faces of the people he cared deeply for or respected—you, Coyote, Iceman, Cyclone, Payback—it has become a constant reminder of all the ways he failed.

💔💔💔

Next to her, Bob scans the area just beyond the fence, his blue eyes alert behind his cracked glasses. With his unusual prescription, it’s been impossible to find a replacement after they slipped off his face running from a pack of creatures. He made it safely to the church in one piece—one of his lenses did not. Yet, he has never once complained or made excuses for his impaired vision.

Bob is just such a good soul 🥺

“Oh, Jake…” Your hands fly up to cover your mouth as your eyes continue to roam over his body. Yet even covered, he can see your jaw trembling as you cry, “Baby, what…We promised if something ever happened to the other, we wouldn’t give up. We would keep fighting.” “I’m still here, aren’t I?” Jake snaps. But then he wilts under the weight of your gaze. Scrubbing his hand over his face, he whispers, “I almost ended it—a few times. Drugs, booze, even thought I’d take my nickname literally. Made a noose and everything. But the thing that always stopped me was that promise. So, yeah, I–I’ve been a bit of a mess since you—” he gestures at your transformed self “—and I’m sorry. I tried to be strong but losing you was the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. We were supposed to face this hellscape together and I didn’t know how to cope without you so I let myself become someone that I hate. But now that you’re back—”

This broke my heart.. it shows how truly broken Jake is and that every day is a struggle with her for him💔

You turn to gaze into the darkness surrounding you. “It’s like acid in my veins, a constant burning fire in my gut that only grows stronger if it’s not satisfied. Blood’s the only thing that soothes the pain for even a few hours, but it’s never enough. I’ve tried to stop myself, I have, but each time I drink it gets hard to fight. And with every life I take, I feel a little more of myself slip away. I’m not the woman you loved anymore, Jake. I’m just a monster with her face.” Jake shakes his head with a firm set in his jaw. “No. I don't believe that. It's still you. Why else would you have looked for me? The woman I love is still here and she needed to see me just as much as I needed to see her.”

He is still so in love 🥺

“And I don’t care what you think.” Without hesitation, Jake crosses the remainder of his little haven of sunlight and steps forward to join you in the inky darkness. You cower back again but he takes another step to maintain the same distance between you. “You're not going to hurt me. I know that. Because you're so strong and brave and you can fight this–”

The way he believes and trust in her more than she does herself 🥹

This newest revelation is the last straw for Jake. A man can only process so much trauma at once before he reaches his breaking point. Falling to his knees, he hangs his head, tears dripping off his face onto the dusty tile beneath him as his shoulders shake with stifled sobs.

I just wanna give him a hug, this is a lot 😭

You fall silent again, but Jake just continues to cry with no acknowledgment of what you said. After a moment of this, you plead, “Jake, talk to me. Tell me what you’re thinking. If you want me to go—” “Please…” Jake breathes, the weight of the past two years pressing down on him. “Please let me hold you.” “W-what?” Based on the utter shock in your voice, that is not what you were expecting him to say. It takes everything in him, but Jake lifts his eyes so they meet yours. “Baby, I need you in my arms again. To feel you, touch you, prove this is real. I have dreamed about you every night for two years. Horrible, bloody nightmares that have destroyed my life. I need you to chase those nightmares away.”

He is desperate for a moment of solace and how it was 2 years ago that he is willing to die for that 😭

“Jake, have you not heard a word I’ve said? I’ve killed our friends and I’ll kill you too. Or worse, I’ll turn you.” “I want you to,” he whispers.

He is so done with this life 🥺

“Please…” Jake sobs loudly, too emotionally and mentally drained to get to his feet and walk to you. “I can’t live without you anymore. I need us to be together, whatever that looks like.” “You don’t know what you’re asking.” “You’ve made it pretty clear. But I’m willing to bear the pain, the…the consequences of this choice if it means I can be with you. So, please, don’t make me spend one more second without you. Either kill me or turn me, but I can’t do this anymore.”

😭😭😭

Jake can’t wait any longer. He grabs your hand and pulls you into his chest, squeezing you as tightly as he possibly can. Your skin is icy beneath his touch, but he doesn’t care. He’s holding you in his arms again and nothing else in the world matters. Squeezing you tighter, Jake mutters, “No. It’s okay, baby. I want this. Just let go.”

He has already made his peace 🥺

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, black tears falling on his chest. “I’ll be as gentle as I can.”

❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

Soft moans and gasps that have Jake flashing back to all those times you were beneath him as he drove you closer and closer to the edge. And for just a second, he can bear the pain knowing he is giving you some semblance of pleasure.

He truly would do anything for her 🥺

Jake picks up the soft sound as it is breathed across the empty warehouse, his ears already tuning into sounds humans shouldn’t be able to hear. His eyes flutter open and just over your shoulder, he can see Bob and Phoenix bathed in sunlight standing at the entrance to the building. Bob has tears in his eyes, his lips whispering your name in horror as he watches the growing gory mess you are making of Jake’s neck. He glances back and forth between Jake and Phoenix, silently pleading with her to find a way to fix this.

Poor Bob 🥺

But Phoenix just stares at the pair of reunited lovers, her jaw set tightly. And Jake knows she understands. Phoenix always understands.

Of course she does 🥹

Jake is weak from blood loss and pain, but he manages the slightest of nods. Lifting two fingers to her forehead, Phoenix gives Jake a small salute in return.

What a small but beautiful goodbye between them 😭

Then she raises her flashlight. As the beam of light strikes your shoulder, your mouth instantly disappears from Jake’s throat with an agonized hiss as you try to flee from the pain. But using what strength he has left, Jake holds you in place. Smiling as every cell in his body begins to burn differently from before, he whispers, “Together.” And he holds up his hand which is cracking and disintegrating in the light just like yours. Though still pained, your face softens as you realize what he is doing. Transformation or death, those had been his choices. However, it turns out it wasn’t an “or” but an “and”. Reaching out, you link your fingers with his, your skin flaky and fragile in his grasp. You snuggle your head against the unbitten crook of his neck, whimpering slightly as the light does its job, and you whisper back, “Together.” Jake wraps his other arm around you and holds you close, silently vowing to never let go again.

Together 😭❤️😭❤️😭

The last thing he sees before his world slips away is the strangely beautiful swirl of particles of your two disintegrating bodies intermingling in the beam of sunlight.

A beautiful ending together, like they deserved🥹

Drink With Me (Part 2)

AI-Less Whumptober 2024: Day 6. self-sacrifice Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Jake "Hangman" Seresin, f!reader, Vampire Apocalypse AU Summary: Two years after Jake was forced to watch you ripped apart by the creatures that now terrorize the world, he is a shell of the man he once was. However, a familiar voice calling to him in the dark may give him a second chance. Word Count: 5911 TW: Hurt/Comfort, Blood, Vampires, Character Death, Murder, Grief, Biting, Mention of Suicidal Thoughts, Drinking (alcohol and blood), Language Notes: Not beta read so sorry for any mistakes! Part of @ailesswhumptober's event! 💗

Series Masterlist

“No….No!”

He tries to race to your side, to stop the torment playing out before his eyes, but he is held back by hundreds of hands wrapping around him, pulling him away. Fighting against them with every ounce of his strength, he screams, “Get the fuck off of me! We need to help her! No! What the fuck are you doing?”

“She’s gone, Hangman,” dozens of disembodied voices whisper in unison from the darkness behind him. “I’m so sorry, but there’s nothing else anyone can do for her now. It’s over. It’s been over for years. You failed. Just as you continue to fail every night.”

“No! I can save her! Please, let me save her this time!” Jake sobs as he continues to struggle against whatever is holding him back. “Please!”

But it’s no use. He’s not strong enough. As he is dragged farther and farther away, he sees you lift your head one last time, panic and pain etched across your face. You lock eyes with him and just have time to scream a terrified, “Jake!” before one of the creatures rips your throat out with its teeth—

Jake bolts upright with a deep gasp, only to immediately collapse back onto his mattress with a pitiful moan. He grabs his head as it throbs painfully with every beat of his racing heart and he squeezes his eyes together tightly in an attempt to stop the world from spinning around him. But it does little to help. His nearly naked body feels sticky and gross tangled in his soiled sheet and he wonders if it’s just sweat from the nightmare, or if he vomited in his sleep again. Maybe both…probably both.

At least he is fairly certain he hadn’t pissed himself this time if the intense pressure in his bladder is any indication. However, he doesn’t have the faintest desire to crawl to the bathroom so he’ll worry about those consequences later. Instead, he rolls over and tries to push your final agonized scream from his mind so he can go back to some semblance of sleep.

Just as he begins to pass out again, he hears the curtain hanging around his small space being pushed back and the toe of a boot digs into his side. Without opening his eyes, he swats at the foot, trying to shove it away. “‘uck off, Phe,” he mumbles somewhat coherently. “‘s too early.”

“Tell that to the rest of us who have already been awake for several hours,” Phoenix snaps, driving her boot deeper into Jake’s ribs. When he tries to roll away, she sighs, “Do we really have to do this every morning? I’m not your fucking babysitter. Get up! Bob and I need your help setting up the trap while the light’s in the right position.”

There is nothing in the world that Jake wants to do more than ignore her and go back to sleep. However, she’s right. They do go through this every morning and by now he has accepted the fact that he can not win this argument. So, reluctantly, he peels open his eyes and squints up at her.

Seeing that some progress is being made, Phoenix removes her boot from his side and takes a few steps back. In doing so, she almost slips on the drink Jake had spilled the night before. Looking around his small space, she shakes her head.

“Jesus, Hangman,” she grumbles as she kicks a few empty wine bottles out of the way, sending them clinking across the floor only to crash into piles of more. “How the hell are you still consistently finding this much alcohol? We’re barely finding enough food.”

Heaving himself up until he’s sitting on the edge of his mattress, Jake rests his head heavily in his hands as the world continues to spin around him. Still slurring slightly, he mutters, “‘s not enough. Two bottles a night aren’t helpin’ anymore. Nightmare’s back.”

“Yeah, well, we’ve all got our own nightmares that haunt us and you don’t see the rest of us pickling our livers to deal with it.” She hurls a half-empty backpack at him which smacks into the side of his head, nearly knocking over his unsteady form. “Now get your shit together and meet us out front in thirty minutes. We’ve got work to do.” She stomps out of his little alcove to give him some privacy but then pivots to add, “And for fuck’s sake, take a shower.”

Forty-five minutes later, Jake steps out of the shower stall, a thread-bare towel wrapped low on his hips. He shivers slightly as he pads across the cold tile floor towards the sinks. The water heater broke a few months ago and with no one left in their dwindling group who knew how to fix it, freezing showers had become the norm. While they should be grateful they even had any water at all, Jake can’t help but recall a time when a hot shower was the best part of his day.

A soft gasp leaves your lips as he presses his bare body against yours, pinning you to the cool tile wall. Your eyes sparkle in the muted light filtered through the shower curtain as you gaze hungrily at him. Warm water flows over his back as he sinks into you—

No. No memories. Not now. Not when he doesn’t have the luxury of going back to his “room” and drowning them in booze.

Instead, Jake quickly dresses, trying his best not to catch a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Half the time—when there is still enough lingering alcohol in his system—he sees your mangled corpse standing behind his reflection. The other half, he left staring at the shell of the man he had become. In some ways, that’s worse because he knows it would break your heart to see what losing you has done to him.

Even though sanitation supplies had only really become a scarcity in the last few months, Jake had given up the will for self-grooming long before that. The tangled beard covering his sunken cheeks is a clear indication of that as is the long greasy strands of hair hanging limply in front of the dark circles surrounding his bloodshot eyes. You had always preferred him clean-shaven and with shorter hair. But you were gone so he didn’t give a fuck.

Exiting the bathroom, Jake heads toward the front of the church. He averts his eyes as he passes the bulletin board that had been converted into a memorial shrine for those they had lost. He remembers the days when there had only been a few names and pictures up there. Now, the fallen takes up every inch of the board and spills out across the wall. Jake used to use the board as his motivation to keep fighting, to not let more names be added to the list. But now that it contains so many faces of the people he cared deeply for or respected—you, Coyote, Iceman, Cyclone, Payback—it has become a constant reminder of all the ways he failed.

Once, this rag-tag group of survivors who had dubbed themselves The Daggers had numbered in the dozens. But now, there are only a handful left. And with supplies and food dwindling quickly, there is no telling how long it’ll be before the rest of them earn a place on the board.

As he pushes his way through the church doors, Jake recoils as he is hit with the full brightness of the sunny day. His headache which had previously dulled slightly in the cold shower came rushing back with a vengeance. Groaning, he digs his sunglasses out of the backpack Phoenix had thrown him earlier and places them on his face. They were a cheap plastic pair Coyote had picked up for him on one of his runs to the pharmacy over a year ago, but they at least cut out some of the glare.

Phoenix is leaning against the fence with her arms folded across her chest, a scowl carved deep into her face. Now that most of those originally in charge were no longer with them, the title of leader had fallen on her shoulders. For the past few months, she had done everything in her power to hold the group together despite the increasingly dire conditions—and one jackass of a drunk who makes her life that much more difficult.

They were the best of the remaining survivors and had become the only real hope the Daggers had left. Yet they spent most of their days dragging Jake’s sorry ass around to ensure he didn’t drink himself to death.

Jake had been like them once: always stepping up when volunteers were needed, doing what he could to fix what was broken, protecting the people within their group. But he hadn’t been that person for the past two years. Not since he had watched you devoured before his eyes as he stood on these very steps.

It was that moment he tried desperately to avoid every night in his dreams. Reliving that day over and over again. Knowing all the moments he could have done something differently or acted faster that would have saved you yet being unable to change anything. Just forced to hear your agonizing final screams before catching his last glimpse of you whispering his name…

He needs to find more alcohol.

“About fucking time,” Phoenix mutters under her breath, pushing herself off the fence.

Bob shoots her a stern look, one that softens as he turns his attention to the new arrival. “Thanks for helping us out, Jake. We appreciate the extra hands.”

“Not like she gave me much of a choice,” Jake mutters under his breath. But seeing the way Bob’s shoulders slump at his words, he does his best to smile at him. “But I’m here now so let’s do this.”

Bob’s smile returns and he nods happily at the other man. As he turns to exit the churchyard, Phoenix shoots Jake another dirty look. He knows despite Bob’s insistence that she keeps dragging Jake along with them, she’s afraid Jake’ll screw up and cost her or Bob their lives. And it’s a fair concern. After all, it’s his fault Bob was almost killed the time his glasses were damaged. Jake had been drunk on patrol and hadn’t seen the creatures until it was almost too late to warn the rest of the team. While Bob never blamed him, Phoenix did. She tried to be as supportive as possible when Jake first began to spiral, but after the incident with Bob, she only tolerated his antics for the sake of her partner. Though not even she despised this version of Jake as much as Jake despised himself.

Jake knew what a failure and a screwup he had become. Yet as much as he wished he could pull himself together and become the man he used to be, he also knew that there was only one person who could help him do that.

But you were never coming back.

It’s amazing how much the world can change in such a short amount of time. In the three short years since the creatures first appeared, the center of town is now virtually unrecognizable. Vines and various foliage scale the sides of all the buildings. Cars are abandoned in the middle of the street, some with their doors still open as their passengers fled from them. Every window has been dark since the power grid failed. And without the constant upkeep, everything is starting to decay.

The warehouse is no exception. Once bustling and full of life, it has now is a shadow of its former self. With very few windows save those by the entrance and no interior lights left to brighten the space, the interior becomes a black hole after walking just a few feet into it. However due to a collapse in the roof, at certain times of the day, a single shaft of light shines all the way down to the ground floor creating a small illuminated circle on the floor.

It is in this small safe haven that Jake finds himself. Echos bounce off the walls of the cavernous space as he puts the finishing touches on the trap in front of him. Four months ago, a few survivors passing through had shared what they had discovered with The Daggers—a way to kill the creatures. Jake still doesn’t understand how it works, something to do with converting normal light into an artificial sunlight of sorts, but luckily there were those smarter than him around who understood and harnessed this knowledge into weapons. Since then, The Daggers had managed to take out a few of the creatures. However, they quickly learned that attacking the creatures in the large packs they usually hunted in resulted in costly casualties on both sides.

It was Phoenix’s brilliant idea to take the stealth approach instead of the head-on one. They began setting traps in the area using motion lights in the hopes of eliminating some of the creatures stalking near their hideout in the middle of the night when they were at their most active. So far, they have had promising results.

Jake is almost done setting this trap. Then he can test it and use his flashlight to get himself from this shaft of light back outside. Hopefully, he’ll then have time to sneak off to try to find more alcohol before Phoenix and Bob return for him. He hasn’t checked the houses a few blocks to the east yet and maybe—

“Jake…”

Jake’s head snaps up as his heart freezes in his chest, the trap instantly forgotten. His eyes dart around the room searching for the source of the sound. But there’s no one else there. He’s alone…he’s always alone.

Yet, just as he begins to return to his job at hand, he sees something. Squinting, he peers deeper into the heart of the building and just makes out the faint outline of a single figure within the darkness.

Instincts kicking in, Jake draws his knife from his boot and drops into a defensive stance in the center of the beam of light, waiting for the attack he knows is coming. His eyes flicker around the space, searching the darkness for signs of the rest of the swarm, yet for now all he can see is the one in front of him. But he knows that can’t be it. The creatures hunt in groups, using their numbers to overwhelm and incapacitate their victims so escape is nigh on impossible. The only few loners they had come across over the years were ones that had been injured or were too malnourished to contribute to the next hunt.

But the figure standing before Jake doesn’t seem injured or blood-crazed. It stands straight and still, completely unmoving. For several moments, nothing happens. Though still cautious, Jake begins to relax his stance a little, wondering if his eyes or mind is just playing tricks on him.

But then, a voice cuts through the silence. “I was three blocks away when I caught your scent. I don’t know how, but I immediately knew it was you.”

The knife slips from Jake’s fingers, the clatter of metal on tile echoing around the cavernous room. The voice that he had not heard outside of his dreams for the past two years punches him in the chest, nearly bringing him to his knees as tears welled up in his eyes. “B-baby?”

There is a pause before the voice continues, unemotional and flat. “I should have bolted in any other direction, put as much space between us as possible but…I couldn’t. I’m selfish enough that I had to risk seeing you one last time.”

“Oh my god,” Jake breathes. “It’s really you.”

He takes a few stumbling steps towards the figure—towards you—but you draw back further into the shadows. “No! Stop! Stay in the light.” There is a panicked edge in your tone, the first sign of emotion you have let slip in, and it is enough to make Jake listen.

As much as he longs to launch himself into your arms, he reluctantly does what you ask. He lingers just shy of the darkness, the toes of his boots resting at the point where the last of the sunbeams fade on the tiles.

“How are you here?” he asks, his voice breaking.

“You know how.”

He did. It was a fear that had nestled in the back of his mind these past two years that he didn’t dare consider. Whether that was out of the fear of falling into despair or building up false hope, he didn’t know. But he had never let himself imagine this moment and, now that it was happening, he didn’t know what to do.

Swallowing the lump forming in his throat, he says, “You said you caught my scent…Do I smell as sexy as you remember?”

A surprised snort of laughter echoes throughout the room as you are taken aback by his question. But when you speak, he hears tears in your voice, “Yeah, Jake. As sexy as always.”

Whatever cold, distant shell you had put in place when you first arrived crumbled and Jake can now hear the real you behind the words. Swallowing, he murmurs, “Please…let me see you.”

Your outline shifts in the darkness. “I-I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Please, baby. For the last two years, all I could see was that last memory of you. I need this.”

“No. Seeing me like this is not going to be any better than seeing me like that. I’ve changed.”

“So have I. But I love you and I’ll still love you no matter what.”

For a moment, there is only silence. Then you whisper, “Step to the other side of the light.”

Jake immediately scrambles backward, almost falling as he stumbles over the long-forgotten trap. But he makes it to the outer rim of the circle of light and waits.

Slowly, your shape edges closer to the light. At first, Jake still can’t make out any details of the person in front of him. But when he does, his heart clenches in his chest.

There is no denying that it is the woman he loves standing before him but yet it’s not the you he remembers. Your skin has been drained of its color and now resembles that of a corpse, cold and lifeless. Sharp, pointed teeth jut out your mouth over bloodless lips and your fingers end in claw-like talons. You are still wearing the same clothes you had on the day you were attacked but they are shredded and stiff with dried blood in various colors ranging from bright red to rusty-brown. Jake wonders how much of it is yours and how much is your victims.

Any lingering doubt he had about how you are here, any sliver of hope you had escaped your fate, is shattered instantly. This isn’t a miracle. It is a nightmare, a curse.

But based on the gasp that escapes your trembling lips, you must be thinking the same thing as you get a good look at the man he has become.

“I’m still here, aren’t I?” Jake snaps. But then he wilts under the weight of your gaze. Scrubbing his hand over his face, he whispers, “I almost ended it—a few times. Drugs, booze, even thought I’d take my nickname literally. Made a noose and everything. But the thing that always stopped me was that promise. So, yeah, I–I’ve been a bit of a mess since you—” he gestures at your transformed self “—and I’m sorry. I tried to be strong but losing you was the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. We were supposed to face this hellscape together and I didn’t know how to cope without you so I let myself become someone that I hate. But now that you’re back—”

“I’m not back, Jake. That’s not why—” You shake your head, letting your hands drop. “I shouldn’t be here. This was a mistake and I never should have come. I should have just let you think I was dead. I-I have to go.”

“No! Please–” As Jake takes a few steps across the circle of light, you cower back, retreating further into the darkness.

“Stop!” There is a pained quiver in your voice. “I’m barely controlling myself as it is. If you get closer…I can’t hurt you, Jake. I can’t. But I know if you get any closer, I will and there’ll be nothing I can do to stop it.”

Jake shakes his head. “No. I don’t believe it. You would never hurt me.”

“You don’t get it. It’s not a choice, it’s an undeniable force. It’s hard enough to control myself when I’m fully satiated, but I haven’t fed in almost a week. Your blood—” You squeeze your eyes closed tightly. When you open them again, they have darkened significantly. There is still some color in them, not the pitch-black orbs Jake is used to seeing when the creatures were attacking, but the change still makes him inhale sharply. “The venom doesn’t just turn us into these…these things. It drives us to hunt, to kill. And that need is neverending.”

It breaks Jake’s heart to hear the pain in your voice and he can’t imagine what you’ve been dealing with the past two years. However, as much as it horrifies him, he also wants to know more. “Wh-what does it feel like?”

Jake shakes his head with a firm set in his jaw. “No. I don't believe that. It's still you. Why else would you have looked for me? The woman I love is still here and she needed to see me just as much as I needed to see her.”

“Jake–”

“It’s not that simple—”

“Yes, it is.”

“Jake, stop—”

“No. Not until you believe that—”

“I've killed Daggers.”

Your admission hangs like a dense fog between you. Obviously, Jake had realized what being turned into a creature meant for your feeding habits, but he had been trying not to focus on that. However, now faced with the truth, Jake suddenly connects a few horrifying dots in his head.

He swallows before asking, “Coyote?”

Last year, he had gotten there just a moment too late. There was nothing he could do but watch as what was left of his best friend was ripped apart by a mass of creatures. But then, just for a second before Fanboy grabbed his arm and pulled him away, he caught a flash of one of the creatures and he could have sworn…

Your eyes widen, clearly not expecting him to know that, but you nod slightly. Then, in a small voice, say, “And Rooster.”

“Roo….Rooster?” The truth about Coyote had been painful, yet regardless of who killed him, Jake had come to terms with his best friend’s death months ago. But Rooster…

He had left the group a few weeks ago after hearing a rumor of someone sounding suspiciously similar to his godfather leading another group out in the desert. They all knew it was dangerous but if anyone could make it, it would have been Rooster. Yet if what you said was true…

“I never wanted you to find out.” Tears begin to stream down your cheeks, thick, black goo that leaves streaks in their wake. “I tried to stop myself but I couldn't. Coyote was already being attacked when I found him and the blood…this thing took over. And the worst part was he…he recognized me just before I tore his throat out. There was this mix of elation I was ‘alive’ and horror at what I had become. I still see it when I close my eyes. With Rooster it was different. I was alone when I found him. We’ve been starving since you found a way to destroy us and I needed blood so badly. He was dead before he even knew I was there.”

“Jake…I…” Your voice is brimming with tears as Jake sees your feet take one hesitant step closer to him. But then, you stop.

For a moment, there is only the sound of his soft cries echoing through the empty space. However, when you finally speak again, your voice has more of the defiance and strength he loves most about you. “You don’t understand what it’s like. When I slip into a frenzy, nothing in this world exists except for blood. Faces…names…past relationships…none of it means anything at that moment. All that’s left is the pure animalistic need to feed. It’s only after I’ve been sated that I come back, that I can remember what happened or what I did. Standing over what’s left of a person, realizing I’m to blame, knowing I’ve murdered them or I’ve forced them to become a monster just like me. I couldn’t stop myself from killing Coyote and Rooster, but I made sure neither of them could turn. They may not have deserved their deaths, but more than that, they didn’t deserve this afterlife. It was the least I could do for them. And I’m sorry it wasn’t more.”

“Please…” Jake breathes, the weight of the past two years pressing down on him. “Please let me hold you.”

“W-what?” Based on the utter shock in your voice, that is not what you were expecting him to say.

It takes everything in him, but Jake lifts his eyes so they meet yours. “Baby, I need you in my arms again. To feel you, touch you, prove this is real. I have dreamed about you every night for two years. Horrible, bloody nightmares that have destroyed my life. I need you to chase those nightmares away.”

“Jake, have you not heard a word I’ve said? I’ve killed our friends and I’ll kill you too. Or worse, I’ll turn you.”

“I want you to,” he whispers.

“Jake!” Normally when discussions became this heated between you and you resorted to that sharp tone, your chest would be heaving as you became worked up. Yet this time, your heart isn’t beating and your lungs aren’t huffing air so it remains deathly still. “I can’t do that to you. I won’t condemn you to this life.”

“You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“You’ve made it pretty clear. But I’m willing to bear the pain, the…the consequences of this choice if it means I can be with you. So, please, don’t make me spend one more second without you. Either kill me or turn me, but I can’t do this anymore.”

You stare at him for a long time, your darkened eyes not giving any hint as to what you are thinking. Then, slowly, you nod. “I don’t want to kill you or turn you, but I need you too. I think…I think I always knew when I came here that this is how it would go and I’m so sorry I wasn’t strong enough to stay away.”

“I’m so glad you didn’t.” Jake opens his arms, still kneeling on the floor. “Come here, baby.”

With stilted, hesitant steps, you begin to walk towards him. You balk a little as you get closer, fighting against the instinct to avoid the sunlight, but Jake is far enough in the shadows that you can reach him without crossing into the light. Slowly, you lower yourself to your knees in front of him and reach out.

However, you apparently don’t share the same outlook. Your entire body goes rigid beneath him, every muscle tensing as he draws you in. He can feel you begin to tremble as an animalistic growl rumbles in your chest.

“Ja—I can’t—Let me go. Don’t wanna hurt—” You manage to choke the words out through a clamped-shut jaw. As your eyes turn completely black, your teeth begin to grow longer until they resemble true fangs. Several poke through your lips as you press your mouth firmly closed. You are still trying to save him despite everything.

Squeezing you tighter, Jake mutters, “No. It’s okay, baby. I want this. Just let go.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, black tears falling on his chest. “I’ll be as gentle as I can.”

And you sink your fangs into his neck.

Living up to your promise, there is only a small sting as your teeth break his skin. However, in seconds, your venom enters his bloodstream and Jake tries to jerk away from the searing pain. However, your clawed hand clamps firmly on his shoulder, forcing him to remain in place. The venom spreads throughout his system until every cell in his body is screaming out in agony. He wants to black out but his body won’t let him. The change is already occurring and he is being forced to be conscious for every last second of his human life.

As you drink, small sounds begin slipping out between your lips, reverberating against Jake’s skin. Soft moans and gasps that have Jake flashing back to all those times you were beneath him as he drove you closer and closer to the edge. And for just a second, he can bear the pain knowing he is giving you some semblance of pleasure.

However as a vice of white-hot agony squeezes around his lungs and heart, Jake begins to jerk in your grasp as he begins to suffocate. Feeling his distress, you slide your teeth out of his neck and press your blood-soaked lips to the wound. Running your hand through his hair, you coo, “It’s okay, baby. It’s almost over now. I can already taste the change beginning in your blood. But this next part is the worst. Fighting it just makes it harder. Try to relax and let it happen. And I’m right here, my love, forever.” Then you sink your teeth back into his neck.

The choking suffocating feeling only intensifies, but against every self-preservation instinct in Jake’s body, he tries to listen to your advice and just gives in. Closing his eyes, he begins to slip into a sort of meditative state. While the pain or pressure doesn’t lessen, the panic and tension ease slightly. And even once he feels his heart take its last beat and his lungs go still, he tries to remain in this headspace until you are finished.

He isn’t sure how long he is kneeling there before—

“No…”

But Phoenix just stares at the pair of reunited lovers, her jaw set tightly. And Jake knows she understands. Phoenix always understands.

Jake is weak from blood loss and pain, but he manages the slightest of nods. Lifting two fingers to her forehead, Phoenix gives Jake a small salute in return.

Then she raises her flashlight.

As the beam of light strikes your shoulder, your mouth instantly disappears from Jake’s throat with an agonized hiss as you try to flee from the pain. But using what strength he has left, Jake holds you in place.

The betrayal on your face as you turn to look at him almost outweighs the pain. Jake knows you must think this was a trick, that he must have been stalling you all along just for this moment. Yet, he had meant every word he said.

Smiling as every cell in his body begins to burn differently from before, he whispers, “Together.” And he holds up his hand which is cracking and disintegrating in the light just like yours.

Though still pained, your face softens as you realize what he is doing. Transformation or death, those had been his choices. However, it turns out it wasn’t an “or” but an “and”.

Reaching out, you link your fingers with his, your skin flaky and fragile in his grasp. You snuggle your head against the unbitten crook of his neck, whimpering slightly as the light does its job, and you whisper back, “Together.”

Jake wraps his other arm around you and holds you close, silently vowing to never let go again.

The last thing he sees before his world slips away is the strangely beautiful swirl of particles of your two disintegrating bodies intermingling in the beam of sunlight.

Taglist: @ohtobeleah, @green-socks, @lorecraft, @heart-0n-fire, @mayhem24-7forever,

@blue-aconite, @the-untamed-soul, @inglourious-imagines, @airhogger, @piscesvancouverite,

@straightforwardly, @bonnieelizabethparker, @srry-itshockeyszn, @flyinlove, @fandomhopped,

@yjwnoot, @wanderdreamer, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @callsign-phoenix, @shanimallina87,

@forever-sleepy-sloth, @notroosterbradshaw, @dezthegeek, @blessupblessup, @cherrycola27,

@phoenix1389, @nicangelinee, @smells-like-perfect-senses, @boringusername3, @petlaufeyson,

@cycbaby, @footprintsinthesxnd, @fantasticcopeaglepasta, @writercole, @onebigfangirlworld,

@wkndwlff, @ravenmoore14, @clancycucumber230, @slightly-psycho-multifan, @kmc1989,

@deppresseddyslexic, @horneybeach1, @mandylove1000, @aczhang777, @lovelyy-moonlight

@winterassassin1804, @seresinhangmanjake, @seitmai

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lululawrence · 11 months ago

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#I’ve only been awake for two hours #and the amount of stress and shit that has piled in during that time is stupidly high #and I’m having a hard time keeping from crying so I can like function #so if yall could just send me some good vibes I would really appreciate it #thanks

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rxzennia · 7 months ago

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sex with aventurine of strategems

✎𓂃 top aven (bottom aven will eventually be served too dw except im hoping to make that emotional so it’ll take a bit hehe), i finished 2.1 yesterday and i’m not fine… angst fic/ character deep dive coming soon (idk when tbh bcs im busy); in the meantime, thirsting for foul legacy: star rail edition boss aven

aventurine in this form is so much bigger than you, it’s so easy for him to just pick you up and manhandle you like you’re nothing. and he loves doing that, picking you up effortlessly and tossing you onto the bed as you spread your legs for him.

his fingers are way, way longer and girthier

loves shoving them up your hole because you squeeze around them so sweetly

also loves hearing that squelch when he pushes three fingers deep into you

oh, you want to touch yourself? nu-uh, he’ll keep your hands above your head

it’s so easy for him restrain you, you’re so much smaller compared to him

and he will tease you to high hell with his fingers

he loves seeing the way you move your hips, trying to chase his touch

but no, darling, he decides what you get, how much you get, and when you get it

your cute whimpers won’t change his mind, even if he loves hearing them

or eating them up as he shoves his tongue deep into your mouth

loves having you moan into his kisses

he won’t stop using his fingers until you’ve wet the bed enough

like, dripping, squirting, anything, until you’ve soaked through the sheets into the mattress

he’s overstimulating you already and he hasn’t gotten to actually fucking you yet

he wants you a mess under him

he wants you to get addicted to his touch

he wants you to not be able to function without him

those are thoughts he has on a regular basis, but they’re amplified so much more when he’s in his boss form

he wants to “preserve” you, so that you’ll never be harmed, or taken away from him…

“please, please, please,” you cry, writhing and squirming desperately as you cum for the umpteenth time, “just, just fuck me already, please,” you push against his hand that has long since been drenched in your arousal, “please, your fingers aren’t enough, hngh…”

“not yet, darling,” aventurine coos in his distorted voice, “not yet. let me play with you, ‘kay?”

he’ll pull his fingers out very, very slowly and watch your expression twist into one of pure agony

you’re arching your back and trying to chase his fingers

he presses your hips back onto the bed, holding you still as he enjoys the sight of your gaping hole

and how you’re completely naked under him, while he’s still fully clothed

he loves the power trip he feels at that moment

he makes sure you can see all the slick on his fingers, and his tongue licks them clean

then he slowly traces your body with his claws, from your cheek all the way down to your inner thighs

if you’re still conscious enough to look, you’ll see the monstrous tent straining against his pants

(if whatever he’s wearing are even pants to begin with)

your hole twitch as you feel yourself getting hungrier and hungrier for him

and he sees that, of course he does

instead of giving you what you want, he’ll keep touching your body

avoiding your hole, though

if you cry, he might change his mind and give you what you want

although chances are he’ll say something like “you’re so hot when you cry” instead of finally gracing you with his cock

he will definitely taunt you and degrade you

“hmm? my darling can’t take it anymore?” he chuckles as his fingers circle your hole that has been clenching around nothing for the past few ten minutes, “look at you, so eager for me… so horny, so dirty…”

when aventurine finally frees his cock, you let out a soft, shaky breath when you realize how much bigger he is in his semi-emanator form. but you’re into that, you’re into everything that he is, anyway.

you try to touch him, obviously, seeing how hard and how much precum is already leaking

no. he won’t let you, not this time

he wants your hole, and only your hole

he grabs your hand and pushes it down

flips you around into doggy while he’s at it

he rubs his tip against you, grinding his hips into yours as he fucks your thighs

you can feel him on your entrance, but he just isn’t slipping in

no matter how much you wriggled around or tried to line him up

“agh, shit, please,” you start, the heat in your stomach slowly becoming unbearable as he teases you with his thick cock, “please, put it in, put it in?”

he does not put it in

until you actually burst out in tears of frustration and pulled your legs apart for him

“f-fuck me already…!” you whine, and he can see how ready you are for him, “please, please, i want you so bad, please, fuck me…”

he loves how pathetic you get when you’re all needy, it feels like you’re really addicted to him

he takes his time enjoying the sight

your hole is so, so, so slick, and he can see your every twitch and spasm

he can’t hold back anymore, you’re just too tempting

“just what i wanted to hear.” he finally grabs you by your hips and slowly pushes his way in

it’s a very, very tight fit even if he’s stretched you with his fingers

he stays still for a bit to let you adjust as he moans breathlessly into your ears

does not help you stay still at all

“mmh,” you sigh and try to move, but damn, it’s such a stretch that it burns a little. still, you’re not going to give up; you’ve been waiting for this for the entire night already, if you wait any more you might lose your mind. “hnngh, you’re so big!” you push against him, fucking yourself on his cock, “ah, ahh, you’re so deep…”

your whimpers are so loud, so shameless! aventurine shudders at the sight of you, on all fours, drooling and crying for him.

his claws dig into your skin as he snaps his hips into yours

you yelp at every movement he makes

you feel like you’re breaking whenever he hits your sensitive spots

which, let’s be honest, is practically wherever he touches

he’s fucking you into the mattress so good, but his hands are also roaming all over your twitching body

which means you get scratches everywhere

he changes positions so that you’re sitting on him, back to his chest

because this way he can rest his head on your shoulders as he abuse your hole

his mask is poking at your shoulder, but he’s trying his best to rest his chin on you instead of his mask

cut him some slack, he’s focused on fucking you silly

he’s looking at you the whole time he’s pounding into you

taking in how your eyes roll back, how your back arches and your toes curl

how, slowly, he’s taking away all your ability to reason and replacing it with his cock

he will lick up your drool and tears

but just his pounding is not enough – you need more stimulation!

you try to touch yourself because he just doesn’t want to touch you the way you want

he will smack your hands away

or interlock his fingers with yours so that you can’t touch yourself

“no touching,” aventurine groans loudly as he slams into you, “i want you to come only on my cock,” he hisses, “only from how good i’m fucking you, hmm?”

though, he sees your teary eyes and your half-open mouth, about to beg.

“aww, can’t take it? then, how about this…” he chuckles darkly, “let’s make a bet, shall we?”

#honkai star rail #aventurine x reader #aventurine #honkai star rail x reader

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colourstreakgryffin · 5 months ago

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Hey there, fellow writer! How are you doing? :) I just wanted to request a platonic Angel Dust x Nephew (or Niece) reader who is the son/daughter of Molly from when they were alive. Angel hadn’t really got to know them as he had died when they were little, so now that he's reconnected with them in hell, he's trying to bond with his niece/nephew as they are older now

Oh, Hello, fellow writer! I have returned from being dead and this is quite fun! Awww. Another Angel request and of course, it’s hella wholesome. I love it! Can do so! Have a great day, loves!

Angel Dust- Little Spiderling

You know, right away, Angel drags you back to the Hotel when he finds out you’re his niece/nephew by pure accident. You aren’t the little one he remembered once seeing his beloved Molly having but you’re still a minor, not eighteen yet! So, he must protect you! And he will!

Angel has a barely functional life down here and is really struggling through it but the one thing he knows how to do is express his love for people so he does it a lot to you

He tries SO hard to let his walls down to bond with you, to let you know you matter to him and he won’t shut you out. You are really the only person he doesn’t act like a sarcastic prick to but he will not tell you his problems since you’re his family, not his therapist

He really wishes he got to know you when you were both alive, he was so wrapped up in his own life, he didn’t acknowledge you. He barely remembered your name and he is clueless on what you like so he just tries to bond with you by trying to seem like that ‘cool Uncle’

Angel asks for advice all the time. He asks Husk, Charlie, even Vaggie. Advice for how he can try bond with you better and how to talk to you better. He already became your guardian… at his own word, so he needs to know how to connect with you

Angel often gets you gifts, it’s how he sees making you happy with him. Like, he’ll buy something whilst he’s out than he’ll offer it to you when he’s back at the Hotel, smiling so nervously and hoping you’ll like it. He is that one awkward but loving Uncle!

Angel basically dies again, of pure joy, when you express love or appreciation. He already has so much guilt for how little he knows you and how little he paid attention to you back on Earth but now, he wants to try again and he really wants to rekindle so he believes all his effort is always rewarded with the way you smile at him and say ‘thank you’ or ‘I love you’ or ‘I’m glad you want to join’

Angel is also that uncle who goes ‘aww, you’re so pretty. I remember when you were so little! Now, you’re big!’. If he had pictures of you, he’d be admiring them whilst crying

Angel does seem like a selfish man but he’s really only selfish with… everybody else. When it comes to you, he spoils you. He kinds parents you. He doesn’t know how to tell you your mom’s in Heaven so he distracts you with other stuff and he even shows off his beloved Fat Nuggets, to make you smile

Angel has a habit of picking you up, since he is much taller than you, and putting you on his back when it is time to go. He only does this when you escape the Hotel or leave against his wishes, and he can always keep his eyes on you this way

He also puts you on his back if you’re tired or want a nap or even miss him. You weigh nothing to him, and he can handle it well

Angel also loves taking you out to shopping trips with him and Cherri. He loves dressing you up in feminine/masculine clothing and praises you so you feel confident. You look great, and in-fact, he’ll buy that outfit so he can see you in it again and boost you up like a good Uncle does!

Angel actually trusts Cherri with you. He is very protective over you so really, only Charlie and Cherri have the permission to take care of you when he is busy

Sinners often confuse you for Angel’s son/daughter, mainly for the way he treats you, and even Valentino has called you ‘Angel’s kid’ before but he doesn’t take that shit from anybody and sets it straight. You’re his beloved sister’s baby and whilst he loves you, he’d never act as if he is your parent. He is your guardian, get it right

Angel teaches you how to cook the meals of the family. He loves cooking and he’s happy to be a mentor so he’ll ensure you know how to take care of yourself if you’re ever without him and know how to whip up a fine Italian cuisine. Cooking together is one of his personal made bonding methods

As well as baking. Angel knows you like baking so he tries to bake with you. Four arms are very useful and yes, he messes up a lot but the way you laugh at his attempt makes it feel like his eggy crispy frosting mess of a cake was totally worth it. You’re growing to like him more and not be annoyed with the fact he didn’t really care for you much in your past life

I will say now. Angel apologises a lot for the past but you take it maturely and understand his point of view. Though, your acceptance doesn’t remove Angel’s guilt and he takes a long time to feel better about himself, even when you two grow closer and you become more and more fine with him being your guardian

Angel doesn’t understand why he didn’t acknowledge you all those years ago… you’re so cute. What is there to not like?

Angel always sees his twin sister in you. You even look like her, so it means you look… more than a bit like Angel too, and he’s glad. It reminds him that he’ll always have a piece of his beloved sister with him as well as a family member who doesn’t dislike him

Angel’s kinda clingy, straight up. He cries whenever you do something he considers ‘cute’ and mews and calls you ‘Spiderling’ whilst hugging you. Angel is also THAT type of Uncle but it’s pretty cute how attached to you he is

Once more, he does get jealous of Arckaniss. He wants to be your favourite! Not his older brother so he sweeps in and steals you away from when you were talking to Arckaniss too much for his comfort. He is soooooo much better!

Really. Angel, in this entire situation with you, is trying and always trying. He tries to be the best guardian for you, he tries to be the best best friend for you, he tries to be the coolest best uncle for you! He tries and he hopes it works

He is actually fine with you calling him ‘Anthony’ over ‘Angel Dust’ and to make it fair, he calls you your real name over your demon name too!

“Spiderling? Hey! Hey! You’ve been out all day! How come? I thought you liked our shopping trip together! I’m your coolest uncle, aren’t I? You liked that scarf I got you! Should I get another? Yeah? Yeah? What do you think?”

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 6 months ago

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the girl next door 16

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

You sit in another hard plastic chair, this time in an office. You can still hear the chaos of the hospital wing out the walls, a constant reminder of why you’re there. You sit with your elbow on the armrest, your chin in your hand as you bite your fingertips.

The nurse, or nurse practitioner, you don’t know the difference, sits across from you, making notes about your last response. Her questions are pointless. She’s asking about your day, well, it’s obvious that’s not going well. And your hobbies. What do those matter? You don’t do anything so you don’t have an answer for that.

She smiles across at you as she clears her throat. The sort of smile dripping in pity. You get it a lot from the old ladies at the grocery store when they see you helping your mother.

“Have you ever had a period where you felt down? Not just for a week or two but, in fact, for many weeks and, perhaps, months?” She asks.

You don’t answer right away. You push your shoulder up and sit back, dropping your hand to your lap. You frown and look at the ceiling.

“Hm, I guess. Sometimes... yeah.”

All the time.

“Along with that, did you find you had no energy, had no interest in things, and overall had great difficulty functioning?”

Functioning? In what way? Going outside? Smiling? Feeling anything but heavy dread? Not crying until your eyes are raw? Having friends?

“Sure, but uh, I take care of my mom. I don’t have time... sometimes...I get tired.”

"Right,” she scribbles noisily with her pen, “Has this ever happened to you before?”

“Has what happened?” You make yourself look at her.

“These bouts of sadness?”

“My mom is sick. It makes me sad.”

“What about today? You said that you... lost track of time.”

“I’m... my mom... I didn’t sleep well... I don’t know.”

She hums and nods. She pauses as she reads over her folder and puts the pen down. She crosses her arms over the desk.

“It’s normal for caretakers to suffer from depression. You’re taking on a lot so there’s no need to be ashamed. You did so well being so honest today. Really. It makes it easier for us to help you,” she smiles again. What about any of this is happy? “I’m going to write you a prescription. Just a few doses for now, okay? To help you through. And we’ll schedule a follow-up with a psychiatrist.”

“A psychiatrist?” You utter, your eyes hot with tear. “I’m not crazy.”

“That’s not... crazy, we don’t speak like that. And you’re not. You’re hurting and you need relief. That’s all,” she explains, “so, the pills I’m going to send you off with. I want you to be very careful, okay? No alcohol. They’re going to make you drowsy so no driving either.”

“But... my mom doesn’t drive. She can’t.”

“It’s just for a few days. You might want to consider looking into some of the local services. You can find a home nurse to come help out if you qualify,” she gets up and goes to a cabinet against the wall, “I have some pamphlets. You can take them with you and I’ll have someone find you with some samples of the pills. That way, you don’t need to pay, alright?”

Your lips trembles and you bite it to keep it still. You nod and stand as you flick the wetness from your eyes, “can I go?”

“Sure, I’m sure your mom will be ready to see you soon,” she approaches you with a handful of glossy leaflets. “I’ll walk you out.”

You take the pamphlets and she follows you to the door. You step into the hall as she stays close, “Mr. Rogers,” she calls over your shoulder as Steve sits in the hall waiting, “she’s all good. Got her sorted.”

“Great, uh, well, good news,” he stands, rubbing his lowers back, “your mom’s awake.” He announces, “can finally get off this stiff chair.”

“See, that’s wonderful,” the nurse nudges your arm, “I’ll have the medications brought to her room. Have a good day, hon.”

You clutch the pamphlets and stare at Steve’s chest. He points you down the hall and walks beside you.

“Everything go okay? What was that she said about medication?”

“Pills.”

“Pills? For what?” He prompts as he leads you along the hallway.

“Depression.”

“Oh.”

You look down, “guess I might be. I don’t know.”

“You work really hard, sweetie. You’re not invincible,” he comforts and rubs your back. You wince at his unexpected touch, “all this stress...” he trails off and reaches for the pamphlets in your hands. You let him take one, “what’s this?”

He reads as he walks, unbothered by the nurses rushing by and the cleaners in their grey scrubs.

“Home nurse? Hm, that might be a good option,” he clucks, “or maybe... I wouldn’t mind helping out, you know? I know it’s early days but I think we’ve gotten really close.” He folds up the paper and hands it back, “me and your mom... us too, I think.”

You shrug and drag your soles on the floor. He reads the door number as you reach your mom’s room and he waves you in ahead of him. You keep your head down as you go past the curtain as he directs you from behind. You stand at the foot of the bed, too afraid to look up.

“I’m starving,” your mother snarls. She sounds like herself, just tired.

You peek up and your eyes round. She scowls at you as she lays tangled in tubes. You quiver in relief. She’s alive and she seems mostly okay.

“What’re you staring at?” She sneers, “I know I look like death. I feel like it too.”

“Holly,” Steve steps forward, “thank god.” He comes to her side, “we were so worried.”

“Heh,” she snorts.

“Really, when I found you...” he tries to block you out as he lowers his voice, “you never told me you weren’t supposed to drink.”

“Never bothered me much before,” she dismisses, “figured it was just a precaution.”

“Excuse me,” a voice comes from the doorway and you look over at a young man in blue scrubs. He says your name, “I have some samples for you.”

You turn and wave meekly, confirming your identity. He enters and hands you several boxes secured together with a thick elastic.

“Directives on the side,” he points to the folded paper also looped under the rubber band.

“Thanks,” you say and he leaves you just as quickly.

Your turn back to your mom as her eyes center on you. She looks horrible. Sickly. Worse than you’ve ever seen her.

“What’s all that then?” She scoffs.

You try to hide the boxes under your arm and shake your head.

“Typical. She’s gotta get her share of attention.”

“Holly,” Steve girds, disappointment harshening his tone, “she was sick with worry over you. The nurse gave her those to calm down.” He grips the bedrail until his knuckles pale, “she has depression, you know? All the stress--”

“Stress?” Your mom rolls her eyes, “I didn’t realise she was the sick one. She’s not depressed, she’s lazy.”

Silence. Stifling, suffocating silence. You lower your chin, “it’s... I probably won’t take any of it. I was just... in shock. I’m sure I’m fine.”

“But the nurse said--” Steve begins, “you’re going to at least try it. You never know, it could help. And if it doesn’t, it doesn’t.”

“Oh, don’t baby her. She’s grown,” your mom’s too out of it to filter her spite. You see the disgust in Steve’s expression as he looks at her.

“Holly, please, she’s your daughter.”

“I know who she is,” she snarls, “why are you taking her side anyway? She doesn’t need pills. It’s just another excuse.”

He closes his eyes and takes a breath, “I’m gonna chalk this up to whatever they’re pumping you full of. Holly, you’re not thinking straight. I know you would say all that to her.”

“Stop defending her. She’s not as innocent as she pretends.”

He shakes his head and glances over at you, “look, you just woke up, you’re out of it. I get it. Let’s just all calm down.”

“She’s a sniveling little brat,” she barks as she leans back. “This is all her fault. She knew I wasn’t supposed to drink. She didn’t stop me.”

Steve blanches and his eyes cling to you. You see the chagrin lined in his forehead. You look away in shame. You never wanted a witness to your mother’s wrath. That’s worse than facing her alone. It’s humiliating.

#series #au #marvel #mcu #drabble #captain america #the girl next door #steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader

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the-hopeless-haze · 2 years ago

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I Do Bad Things With You

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: smut. nsfw mdni

Summary: You don't feel like you're a good agent. Aaron assures you that you are. And then he fucks you. or inn other words, I think I need someone to study my brain because I did cry in my boss' office for very similar reasons to this and I am very much attracted to her but we did not fuck in her office and she has no idea I want her I just have breakdowns at work because 1) it sucks and 2) I am mentally unwell. I just truly don't know if this fic was birthed from the worst compulsory heterosexuality of all time or if I'm truly just an insane bisexual (I think it's the latter) but when I tell you I have not thought about Hotchner in years I MEAN years. I haven't watched Criminal Minds in like five years until today to write this fic. But like. He is FINE. y'all know. you're here. come for my unhinged summary stay for the smut idk

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“I can’t do this anymore,” you mutter under your breath, hating how the tears fall anyway, how you can’t stop them. “I’m not doing a good enough job. I need to leave.”

“What are you talking about?” Aaron asks you. “Why do you feel that way?”

“It’s just… it’s just I feel like I can never get a grip. Like I can’t ever get everything done that needs to get done. Like I’m not good enough.”

“You’re good enough. You’re a good agent. You come in and you do your job,” he says gently. “I don’t need anything else from you.”

You were usually so put together, so stoic, even, so sure of yourself. He can’t quite believe you’re in his office like this, past the verge of tears, sitting across from him weeping.

“I’m proud of you.”

“For what?” you ask, lifting your head to look at him.

“For the effort you put in. How you’re a new agent and you still proved yourself to my team. You’re living up to your potential and then some. We appreciate you. I appreciate you.”

“You just have to say that.”

“No. I don’t have to say anything. I’m telling you what I see and what I believe. And I’m not letting you quit.”

“But, sir, I—“

“I won’t accept it,” he says firmly but quietly. “You’re too good of an agent to lose. You know this. You know your grades were stellar and your psychology background is enviable. You know you passed every test with flying colors. The adjustment to being a full-fledged agent in the first year is tough, to say the least. It’s grueling. Getting accustomed and used to death, danger and just the pressure of the job is something that not everyone can handle. But you can. I know you can. If I lost you, I’d lose an asset. You’re an excellent profiler. It’s intuitive for you.”

There it is, though, that behavior analyst part of your brain and you noticed how he said “I” and not “we” and how his eyes softened, how he wasn’t looking at you sternly and stoically but there was more of a tenderness in his dark eyes.

He likes you. He means what he says. You know he does.

But that isn’t enough. You don’t believe what he says. You don’t believe you’re worthy. This job takes up so much of your waking hours but when you’re outside of it you have next to nothing. You’re not close to family here in Virginia. You don’t have a significant other. You’re not home enough to have a dog. And you just feel like you’ve been letting yourself go since you only seem to have time to eat, sleep and work.

You’ve always been an anxious person. You’ve managed to quell the thoughts wracking your brain with years of practice and medications to a point where you can function, to a point where you made it through school and made it into the FBI. Impostor syndrome dies hard, though. You keep trying to swallow down your tears but it’s fucking impossible when you’re like this. You dry them on the sleeves of your blazer, biting your lip nervously.

“Don’t cry. It’s okay,” Aaron says, breaking through your thoughts.

“It’s not okay,” you murmur. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I shouldn’t be breaking down crying.”

“You’re human,” he says gently. “This job is overwhelming.”

“It doesn’t seem to get to you.”

“It does. It still does. I… I’ve been doing this a lot longer than you.”

“I just don’t think I can do this, Hotchner. With all due respect, I need to put my two weeks in,” you say, strengthening your weakened resolve.

“No,” he refuses, shaking his head. “What do I have to do to get you to see what I see?”

You sigh, leaning forward and bracing your head in your hands. “I don’t know.”

You feel him before you see him, refusing to lift your head up as the tears started streaming down your face. He kneels in front of you, taking your hands gently from your cheeks, but your eyes are still squeezing shut. “Look at me,” he orders.

“Hotchner, I—“

“It’s Hotch. You know that. Or… you can call me Aaron. Just call me Aaron. Look at me.”

Finally, you blink your eyes open, tears spilling over, and he squeezes both your hands gingerly.

“Good. Here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to go home for the night. You’re going to take your mind off of the job. And you’re going to come back tomorrow morning and everyone in here is going to talk about how much you’re missed when you’re gone. Because we all value you. But you need to take the time for yourself. You’re burnt out. You’re not a bad agent. You’re just mean to yourself and you shouldn’t be.”

It’s not lost on you, the way he’s still touching you when you don’t think you’ve seen him so much as brush against anyone else on the team. Is he…?

You squeeze his hands back, forcing yourself to smile.

“There we go,” he smiles back. “See? Do you feel better?”

“A little. Thank you, Hotch.”

“Please. You can call me Aaron in private,” he reiterates. He would have, could have, should have let you go by now. But he hasn’t.

“In private?”

“I don’t let just anyone use my first name. There’d be questions if you started using it especially since you called me SSA Hotchner for months before I got you to just say Hotchner at least. You’re a rule stickler, hm? I think that’s part of your problem.”

“You don’t strike me as the type to think rules are made to be broken,” you counter. Sure. You were a stickler. You were. Deferential to authority - that deserved it. You spoke out, and you would speak out of turn if anything felt wrong or uncomfortable. Rules made things feel safer. Still. You’d call out the unjust. And you think Aaron is the same way.

“Some of them are,” he muses.

“You yelled at me,” you say suddenly. “My third week.”

He furrows his brow, trying to recall the incident you were talking about and then he nods. “You were reckless. You put yourself and Morgan in danger. You walked straight into an ambush. It was a mistake. A rookie mistake. A mistake you learned from. You never did it again.”

“But I—“

“It’s been almost a year since then,” he says, gently. “I don’t hold it against you. I’ve had to pull everyone who works here aside for something. And I’ve been pulled aside myself. No one’s perfect. I… I raised my voice because I was worried about you. Not because I was angry with you.”

“Okay,” you breathe out, nodding. “Okay.”

“I wish you could see what I see,” he says.

“Hm?”

“I see a strong, capable, intelligent young woman who’s an amazing profiler — you can glean someone’s familial background in record time. I see a woman who holds her ground and then some in interrogations.”

“I’m crying in my boss’ office right now,” you titter awkwardly.

“It doesn’t matter. You’re still all of those things. I see a beautiful woman who’s passionate about her career, who wants to do the best she can…”

He trails off. You wonder if he realizes the weight of what he said.

Always walking the line of professionalism. Making any comments regarding your appearance was crossing it, even if it was as benign and modest as “beautiful”. It was still a step too far.

But you, you’re depressed and anxious, and you’ll take whatever you can get.

He’s still kneeling in front of you.

You know it would be stupid, especially when he’s a broken man himself, even if he denies it to everybody. His wife cheated on him. It was hard, with the job, to have a stable relationship with anyone outside of it. You know this. You’re living it.

He’s still touching you and your skin is on fire now.

“I’m sorry,” he says, but he makes no effort to move, no effort to stop staring through your eyes to your soul. Is he profiling you? Trying to see if your breath hitched when he let the compliment slip?

“Don’t be,” you say breathily.

“It was inappropriate,” he says, and he does get up then, wincing at the stiffness in his knees from crouching in front of you for so long. You miss the warmth of his hands already. “You’re dismissed, agent. Go home and take care of yourself.”

Your emotions flip like a switch, it’s just how it’s always been, and you use it to your advantage in a room full of profilers. It’s good to be unpredictable, a wild card. You don’t even mean to. You just are. You can’t help the words that come out of your mouth next. He stood up, so he’s towering over you as you sit in the seat across from his desk, but he’s looking down at you, waiting on your next sentence. And what you say is, “Agent? I thought we were on first-name basis, Aaron?”

It’s the first time you’ve said his first name, and it goes right through him. He wasn’t lying. Not many people do have the privilege to use it. None of his subordinates would be brave enough, maybe not even if he gave them explicit permission like he gave to you. It’s intimate, all these walls up in this bureaucracy that even something as simple as a woman using his first name could drive him up the wall like it would an upstanding Christian man in Regency England. Rules. Rules to be broken.

Aaron whispers your first name, and it’s barely audible, but you hear it in his low, soft baritone. Not the first time, but the only time he’s said it without your last name tacked on the end of it. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what, Aaron?”

You’re teasing, now, and he wonders if it’s just a reflex, trying to gain back some of the power you lost by coming in here crying, or if you genuinely want something from him besides reassurance and a couple of hours off from work. It was maddening at first, trying to figure you out. He still doesn’t know exactly who you are and he’s resigned himself to the fact that maybe he’d never be able to nail you down.

“Don’t,” Aaron says again, looking at you sternly as you stand up.

“What is it that you don’t want me to do, Aaron?” you ask, and you’re still not eye to eye but you’re closer now, and his eyes never left your face throughout the whole conversation anyway.

He says your name again like it’s a curse under his breath. “You know exactly what you’re doing. Stop it.”

“Use your words, Aaron.”

“Stop teasing me,” he murmurs, looking away from you for the first time, down at the floor. You never expected him to be so… shy.

“I’m teasing you?” you ask, feigning innocence. You didn’t have to be a profiler to see how he was getting tenser as you continue this conversation.

“Yes,” he says, looking back up at you, an edge to his voice you hadn’t heard before. “And I suggest you stop.”

“Or else?” you say before your brain can catch up. You’re playing with fire. You know you are.

But you like him. Tall, dark, handsome, nothing like the men you’ve been with before. Other men were intimidated when he walked into the room. And you being you… you always wanted to break him down into a crying, blubbering mess, and be the only one who got to see him like that. Break the stoic wall and get to see him. Human.

And if he was this reactive to you just saying his name?

Lord help both of you.

“Please,” he murmurs. “Go home for the day.”

“Is that to help me, or you?”

He shakes his head, smiling a little. “Perhaps both of us.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t jump at the chance to get my resignation if I make things so… hard… for you, Aaron,” you say, and you move a little closer, his breath hitching audibly in his throat.

Again. He says your name like it’s the worst curse in the book, hissing it like it physically hurts him, and you know, maybe you are.

“A little selfish, maybe. I’d miss you too much,” he admits. “And I meant what I said. I’d lose an asset. You’re a stellar agent.”

You don’t really know what to say, now, but he continues.

“Profile me,” he whispers. “In this moment. What am I thinking?”

“So you don’t have to say it out loud?”

“Mm.”

“You want me, Aaron,” you say shakily, losing your resolve almost as quickly as you gained it back. “I don’t think you’d have to be a profiler to figure that out.”

“Is it that obvious?” he asks.

“Right now… yes.”

“You need me. You need me to show you how valued you really are,” Aaron says, searching your eyes for confirmation that you want this, too. As always, though, you’re unreadable. “Say it. Let me show you my appreciation.”

God. What in the world? Your brain is fuzzy with lust, and never in a million years would you have thought this is how today would’ve gone. Mondays back in the office are always the worst, piles of paperwork from the cases prior to sift through and file and the anticipation of when you’d be on the road or up in the air next always gnawed at your stomach. You fully expected to give your notice and come home crying. You didn’t foresee the prospect of being utterly fucked by your boss who very much did not want you to resign.

You know why the rules are in place. Dating coworkers was messy anyway, never mind dating someone in this line of work. Still… you thought it made sense in a way. The only person who was really going to understand your crazy schedule was someone who was working the same hours.

So you nod, giving him full permission to do as he pleases.

His lips meet yours, surprisingly soft and gentle, akin to the way his hands squeezed yours before. “I can’t believe I held myself back from doing this for this long,” he mumbles against your mouth, then he pulls you in an embrace, leaving hot open-mouthed kisses on the side of your neck where he can reach. “I need you here. I need you to promise me you’ll stay.”

“I’ll stay, Aaron.”

“I’ve wanted your body since the second you walked into this building. I need you. You ground me. Make me feel better, human. Like maybe I could exist outside of the field and outside of this office.”

“Did you know I was struggling?”

“You hide it well. I knew you were frustrated, but the last case was tough and we all are a little on edge. I’m sorry. I should’ve been there for you to lean on, honey,” Aaron says, moving his head back to face you, eyes meeting yours earnestly. “I want you to always come to me if you need anything. Anything.”

You don’t say anything, just hum contently, pressing your mouth back to his for a kiss that starts off chaste and quickly becomes heated, his hands cupping the curve of your ass.

“Answer me,” he says firmly. “Promise me you’ll always come to me.”

“I promise,” you agree.

“Good girl,” he affirms. “You’re such a good girl. Never have to worry about you doing your job. You always get your reports to me on time, you always make brilliant deductions when we’re going over cases, you always make sure the rest of the team doesn’t need anything… such a good girl.”

You kiss him fiercely, the voice in your head screaming he was your boss and both of your careers are on the line if this goes south long silenced. His large hands on your ass pull you closer to him, and you feel his hardening cock against you as he does. “Aaron,” you choke out breathily.

“Feel me? That’s what you do to me, honey.”

You snake a hand between your bodies and palm him through his dress pants, and you can tell he wasn’t expecting that to be your next move from the way his cheeks flush and he groans heavily. “This is about you,” he manages to say, taking your hand away from his clothed cock. “All about you. Go sit on my desk, honey.”

You do as he says, squeezing your thighs together as he follows you and takes his suit jacket off, revealing his tasteful button-down underneath. “Good girl,” he whispers, spreading your legs with hands, kneading the flesh of your thighs as he does so, letting the fabric of your skirt ride up.

And then he digs his nails under the thin sheer of your tights and rips them. “Aaron!” you hiss in surprise.

“I’ll buy you a new pair,” he responds almost dismissively, easing the torn fabric down the length of your legs, kissing the swell of your calves as he takes your heels off and places them on the floor underneath the desk.

“I’m more worried about how I’m going to walk out of here,” you say, smiling.

“I sent them all out on different tasks and told them to get lunch first. They’ll be gone for a while.”

“Did you plan this?” you ask, raising your eyebrows.

“Not exactly,” he smirks. “But now you can be as loud as you need to be.”

“Aaron,” you say, almost scolding, but whatever you were going to say after that is lost in the recesses of your mind as you feel his mouth on yours again, hot and ready, tongue gliding against yours with ease. He shrugs your blazer off, too, leaving you in just a black tank top and your skirt that was hiked up to your waist.

“I believe regulations are to wear long sleeve button-downs underneath blazers,” he says lowly. You know it’s a lie. If Garcia can dress the way she does there are certainly not strict restrictions on what you can wear, even if you’re a field agent. But you’ll play along.

“I believe regulations are not to have your subordinate spread out on your desk in front of you, sir,” you retort.

Aaron chuckles deeply at that. This is how you usually were, sarcastic and snippy, even with him at times. Funny. “Rules and regulations,” he muses. “I think I’m alright with those two being broken.”

And with that his fingers of his right hand start ghosting your cunt, pressing the thin cotton of your panties, groaning lowly at how wet you are. “You’re soaked, honey,” he says. “Can I feel you? Please.”

“Yes, Aaron, please touch me,” you nod.

He pushes aside your panties, slipping his index finger in slowly, catching your lips with his in the process.

“Want to make you feel so good, so much better,” he murmurs, starting slow and building up pressure before he inserts another finger, stretching you out, making you impossibly wetter, reaching depths of you that you couldn’t reach yourself with your much shorter and thinner fingers. “Lift your hips,” he instructs, and in one swift motion, he slips your panties off, pocketing them in his dress pants. “Good girl.”

“Not fair, Aaron,” you say.

“What’s not fair, honey?”

“You’re still fully dressed,” you point out, reaching for his tie to loosen it. You were absolutely soaked, you could feel it, and you wonder if his desk will stain from your slick. You untuck his shirt from his pants and run your hands over his stomach, scars under the pads of your fingers, God, you want to lick every inch of him.

“Mm. I can help you remedy that,” he agrees, meeting your hands when you were halfway through the buttons on his pristine white shirt, pulling it over his head along with his undershirt. You reach for his belt buckle and he stops you. “Not yet. Let me do something first.”

And before you know it his tongue is on you, swirling incessant circles around your swollen clit, and you can tell he’s not taking his time now. He wants to bring you over the edge and fast, and you wonder how long it will be before the rest of the team do return from their extended lunch breaks. You’ve been eaten out before, sure, but to use a cliched metaphor for the umpteenth time in human history, you finally figured out what women meant when they said their man ate them like it was their last meal on death row. You clamp your legs against his head, and he moans, sending vibrations through your cunt, damn near sending you over the edge as you pant and whimper.

“Am I not making you feel good?” Aaron looks up in worry.

“What? Why would you say that?”

“You’re not screaming. I suppose I should try harder,” he says, furrowing his brow and then he adds his fingers back, fucking deep into you. His tongue focuses on your clit and your thighs are shaking and you gasp, no longer able to hold yourself up seated, leaning back and bracing yourself on your elbows.

“Aaron, I’m so close,” you moan, trying to fight the urge to push him away as the pressure builds. You squeeze your thighs tighter and the sudden force of it drags Aaron’s tongue flat against your clit, and that’s what sends you over the edge, whining his name over and over again.

He doesn’t stop.

“Aaron,” you choke out, trying to back away from him due to the overstimulation. “Aaron. Please.”

“You can be louder than that,” he says, not bothering to lift his head, voice muffled by your wet cunt. “I’m not stopping until you reach a decibel level I’m satisfied with. And I will know if you’re faking.”

You’ve never had anyone go down on you for multiple rounds. You were lucky if you came once with previous partners. Part of the reason you never wanted to make a move with Aaron was that you figured he would ruin you for other men.

And God. Were you right.

You only hope you’re ruining him for other women.

You know you’re next orgasm will be embarrassingly close as he never gave you a chance to come down from the first one. You didn’t expect it to come on like it did though, your right hand carded in his jet black hair, just again, him flattening his tongue against your clit as his fingers continued to scissor you open and you can’t help it, gasping for air, shouting, yelling, keening his name. “Aaron,” you plead. “I can’t give you another one. Please.”

“Shh. Good girl. You can and you will. For me,” he commands authoritatively.

And you can. And you do.

The next time, mercifully, Aaron stands up, and leaves you alone to breathe. He kisses you and you taste yourself on his tongue. He’s achingly hard now, a quite visible tent noticeable in his dress pants, cheeks red from exertion, everything from his nose to his chin wet with your slick.

What a vision.

How were you ever going to get this out of your head?

“Can I be inside you? Please?” he asks.

“Yes,” you affirm.

Aaron lets you unbuckle his pants and lets them pool to the floor, helping you out of your tank top and bra, sucking and biting on your nipples and the flesh of your breasts for a few moments before he steps out of his shoes and boxers, completely bare in front of you.

“God, Aaron,” you breathe. “You’ve really been holding out on me.”

“Yeah?” he asks, and his cheeks flush redder. “I could say the same for you, sweetheart.”

“How long?”

“I told you,” he says lowly, lining his cock with your entrance. “Since the second you walked in this building.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” you ask, but it’s a loaded question if not a stupid one. There’s a myriad of reasons why you don’t tell someone who works under you that you want to fuck them stupid. That you like them. That you love them?

You frown slightly. You don’t think you could handle it if this was the only time you got to be with him like this.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, lifting your chin with his thumb. “You promised you would tell me.”

“Is this… is this a one-time thing, Aaron?” You ask tentatively.

“I don’t want it to be,” he answers quickly. “It’d be a daily occurrence if I had my way.”

With that, he grabs your hips, and looks at you for consent, then slams all the way in when you nod in affirmation. Neither of you can help the moans and groans escaping your mouths at that, you from feeling completely full and him being fully sheathed in you.

“I… I love you,” he says, pressing his sweat-sheened forehead to yours. “You don’t have to say it back. I know how dangerous and inappropriate and difficult this situation is never mind adding emotions to it. And I… I’m not good at them in the first place. I just… I just need you to know that. I want to be with you. All the time.”

“Again, Aaron, why did you never… fuck,” you trail off as he starts moving his hips, setting a slow and languid pace.

“I don’t know. I was afraid,” he chuckles.

“Of me?”

“You’re intimidating. You’re beautiful, smart, and capable. To tell you I wanted you…”

“You’re calling me intimidating?” you ask. “You? Of all people?”

“I’ve seen you interrogate. Baby-faced assassin, hm? You’ve shaken some grown men in their boots.”

“Including you?”

“Including me,” he chuckles, then softens. “Seeing you cry like that today… I… it broke my heart, honey. I never thought I’d see you break. I’d do anything to make you never feel like that again. You need to stay.”

“I already promised you, Aaron,” you say, biting your lip as he somehow angles his cock deeper in you. “I love you.”

Kissing you fiercely, he squeezes your hips, and you can’t wait to see if there’ll be bruises there tomorrow in the shape of his fingertips. “God, you’re fucking squeezing my cock, honey,” he grunts, and you feel yourself clench more at his words. You’ve never heard him swear. Ever. “I’m not going to last long if you keep doing that.”

“I’m surprised you lasted this long, old man,” you tease.

“You’d be surprised how much stamina I do have,” he threatens, rolling his eyes at you. “You’ll see tonight when I have more time with you.”

“How presumptuous.”

He scoffs, doesn’t say anything, but starts running over your clit with his thumb, kissing you deeply, fucking you faster and harder, setting a much more brutal pace.

“You just need me that bad, Aaron?” you ask, hellbent on seeing him break. “You need to fuck me all the time now that you’ve had me?”

“Yes,” he pants. “Need you all the time. Every day. Need to fuck this pretty cunt. Make you know you’re appreciated. Valued. Loved. Never want to hear you talk about yourself like that ever again. Not…I’ll worship you. Kiss the ground you walk on. Fuck you until you can’t stand. Whatever it takes.”

“What about you, Aaron? How do you feel right now?”

“So fucking good,” he groans. “So fucking good. Such a good girl. You keep sucking my cock back in every thrust, you feel that, honey? So wet, so warm, fuck, I’d stay inside you forever.”

“Yeah, Aaron? Hmm? I—“ your teasing backfired on you, and before you can think of anything else to say, you come on his cock, your nails dragging down his back stalling his motions to stutters and he’s asking you, begging you, “Please let me cum inside you,” he begs. “Please, honey.”

You nod breathlessly, unable to speak, and you don’t think he’d be able to make it out of you in time completely if you’d said no because you feel his seed fill you as you’re still riding out the aftershocks of your own orgasm and he’s moaning your name in choked sobs and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever fucking seen or heard.

“I love you,” he whispers, dark eyes looking up at you from where his face now rested in the swell of your breasts. “I love you. And we’re going to make this work come hell or high water.”

“I love you,” you say back once you catch your breath. “Are you still sending me home?”

He laughs. “You look and smell like sex.”

“Do you think you look or smell any different? You did this to me,” you say, messing up his sweat-streaked hair more with your fingers. “I think your boss should send you home, too.”

“Hm. Perhaps I could convince him,” he says, giving you a wide smile.

He helps you get dressed, kissing you wherever he can reach in between and it takes much longer than it would have had you dressed yourself. You’re not complaining. But there’s no fixing your hair or your tattered tights. No fixing Aaron’s disheveled hair, either, or the sweat stains around his armpits from when you teased him for so long.

“Follow me home, honey,” he instructs. “Round two.”

Maybe you should have mental breakdowns at work more often.

#Aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x reader #Aaron Hotchner #hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #hotchner x you #hotch x you #aaron hotchner x reader smut #hotchner x reader smut #hotch x reader smut #criminal minds fanfiction

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obessedwithfictionalmen · 7 months ago

Text

Chicken

John Egan X Farmer! Reader

Summary: When Meatball kills the farmer's chicken. Bucky flies to the rescue.

Warning: Animal death/ swearing/ mention of boobs/ use of Y/n/ mention of blood.

Word count: 1.2k

A/n: I'm alive y'all! And my brain functioned again!

When John Egan came to Thorpe Abbotts, he was aware of the people that already lived there. He knew they were here, but he didn’t know them personally. When he saw her riding her horse, he knew he had to introduce himself. But he didn’t have the courage to go talk to her, she looked so intimidating, riding her horse and handling the goats.

Y/n lived on her family’s farm, but her family was away, they were in Austria, the farm was their summer house, but they wanted Y/n to keep it clean and work there. Usually, she would’ve been back in Austria, but with the war, it wasn’t safe to travel. Her chores were simple, making sure the goats didn’t run away, getting the eggs from the chicken coop and keeping the stables clean. It was easy, especially since she got her horse, Fred. He was a mustang, a beast that she had trouble training, but she kept persevering and was able to ride him. She was riding Fred everywhere; she loved her horse.

‘’Cleven! Good morning’’ she greeted the blonde. They quickly became friends when he came on the base, he went to introduce himself to the people living on the base, already saying he was sorry for the future disturbance that the soldiers were going to cause. When Gale saw Y/n, he thought she was amazing and they talked for hours, quickly becoming friends. They would trade stuff together, for example, if Y/n wanted a bottle of whiskey, she would give Gale a dozen eggs. ‘’Morning Y/n! How are you?’’ he asked. ‘’Good, just counting the chickens’’ she stopped when she heard a dog barking. ‘’Why do you have a dog here?’’ she asked, stepping in front of the chickens. ‘’Brady got him, I’ll make sure he doesn’t come near the coop’’ he reassured her. ‘’He better, because if he eats any of my chickens…’’ she threatened. Meatball came running towards Buck. ‘’He’s cute, but I meant what I said’’ she looked at the dog, smiling. ‘’I’ll make sure of it’’ he smiled.

John Egan heard a horse neigh; he knew that Y/n was close. And he was right, her (Y/h/c) hair were flying in the wind, she had a cowboy hat on her head. A white tank top that made her boobs look 5 times bigger and jeans that made her legs look amazing. She was beautiful. ‘’Y/n, what’s wrong?’’ Gale asked. She got down her horse, patting him before looking at the boys. ‘’I can’t come here and say hello?’’ she smiled as she looked at Bucky. ‘’Technically, you’re on a private property’’ Murph said. She scoffed. ‘’Technically, you guys invaded our property’’ she replied. ‘’Touché’’ Murph laughed. ‘’Nice ride’’ John Egan said, looking at the horse. ‘’Thanks, that’s Fred.’’ She replied. ‘’Um, do you guys have a minute to spare? We need help moving the hay’’ she asked. ‘’Sure, we can help’’ Bucky quickly replied.

‘’Be careful with that Jeep, don’t run over my animals’’ she smiled at Bucky, before she climbed up her horse. ‘’Wanna race?’’ Bucky proposed. She gave him a challenging smile, Fred was a fast horse, he was originally supposed to be a racehorse, but Y/n bought him at the town auction. ‘’Sure, but don’t cry if you lose’’ she smiled. When Fred started to run, Bucky knew he’d already lost, he didn’t want to go too fast, in case of a loose animal. She looked like a goddess, riding that horse. He thought about her riding him for a second, but his thoughts quickly faded when he heard Meatball bark, his mouth was all bloody and he had feathers on him.

‘’Calm down! It’s only 3 chickens!’’ Gale Cleven tried to calm her down, but she was ready to skin the dog alive, Bucky was holding her so she wouldn’t kill the dog. ‘’IT’S LESS EGGS! LET ME GO! I’m going to kill that dog’’ she tried to get away, but Bucky’s grip was too hard on her waist. Meatball didn’t have any regret; he was looking around like his life wasn’t on the line. John Brady, the owner, arrived at the scene in a Jeep, with Harry Crosby and Rosie Rosenthal. The 3 bodies were lying on the ground, headless. Y/n took deep breaths and calmed down a little. ‘’What’s going on?’’ Brady asked. ‘’You’re the owner?’’ she asked, angrily. Brady nodded. ‘’Your stupid dog ate 3 of my chickens!’’ she spat, showing the corpse with her hand. Brady swallowed a nervous laugh. ‘’I told you to watch him and I’m leaving the farm for an hour, I come back, and Dave, Danny and Darrel are dead!’’ she said, looking at her chickens. Bucky had to refrain a laugh at the names of the deceased animals. ‘’I’m sorry miss, I don’t know what else to say’’ Brady explained, scratching the back of his head. She took a deep breath, realizing how crazy she looked. She touched Bucky’s hand, to show him that he could let go. She replaced her hair as she sighed. ‘’I’m sorry, I kinda overreacted. You guys can go, I’ll, uh, clean up. Sorry for the disturbance.’’ She said, with an embarrassed tone.

He felt bad for her, sure it was only 3 chickens, but still. So, that night, he decided to find the courage and go talk to her for more than four words. He rode his Jeep to her house; he nervously taped the wheel with his thumb as he shut the engine down. Seeing lights outside, Y/n got out of the house, standing on her porch, seeing it was a soldier, she wiped her hands on her pants before going down the short stairs. ‘’Major Egan, to what do I owe this visit?’’ she asked, trying to hide her joy. She found him attractive, he was a gentleman during the day and a manwhore during the night, or at least that was his reputation. ‘’Hello, please call me Bucky, and I’m here to pay you back’’ he smiled. She tilted her head. ‘’Pay me back? You owe me money?’’ she questioned. He shook his head, chuckling. ‘’No, it’s for the deceased chickens’’ he explained.

Y/n fought the urge to smirk. ‘’You want to pay me for the chickens I lost?’’ she asked. ‘’Yeah, I mean you said it yourself, it’s less eggs’’ he blurted out. Now she couldn’t fight it anymore, a smile creeped on her face as she looked at the flustered Bucky. ‘’Come inside’’ she invited. He nodded as they waled inside the small home. The smell of burnt candle filling his nose as he looked around the kitchen. ‘’Does Brady know you’re doing this?’’ she asked as they sat in the kitchen. ‘’No, it’s my idea’’ he looked on the ground, not daring to look at her in the eyes. ‘’That’s very sweet, Bucky, but I can’t accept this, you must have family that this money belongs too, what about Mrs. Egan. It’s very thoughtful but keep it’’ she politely said. He started to laugh at the mention of a Mrs. Egan. ‘’There’s no Mrs. Egan, never set that part right, and my family doesn’t need the money. Please, Y/n, take it’’ this time, their eyes were locked into each other.

‘’You know, I didn’t think you would be the one offering me money. I thought Cleven would do it’’ she said, taking a sip of her homemade alcohol. It’s been an hour since Bucky came into her home they’ve been talking ever since. ‘’He felt bad, but he has to keep it for the phones, his girlfriend wants to hear from him twice a week’’ he chucked. She smiled as she looked at him. ‘’It’s getting late, I should get back to the base’’ he said as he looked at his watch. She got an idea. ‘’Are you free for dinner tomorrow?’’ she blurted out. He looked at her, smiling. ‘’Uh, yes, why?’’ he asked. ‘’Because I enjoy your company. And I have some extra money to buy good meat.’’ She smiled. ‘’Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow, then.’’ He leaned to kiss the top of her hand. ‘’Good night, Y/n’’ he said. ‘’Good night, Bucky, see you tomorrow’’

#callum turner #callum turner x reader #callum turner imagine #master of the air #master of the air imagine #john egan x reader #major john egan #john egan

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peterman-spideyparker · 3 months ago

Text

Halo (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Howdy, folks! In my slow sift through and re-editing process of fics on my laptop and in my notebooks, I've re-come across this fic. It's probably been written for, what, a year and a half? Two years? and I've waffled on it because I didn't know if I should post it. It's a continuation of Angel, but if you've read it and want to stay sitting in the angst, you can. It's still angst, but, it might make you feel better? Idk. I cried writing it and then every time I've re-read it, and I think id I tried to write more, I'd be a vicious cycle of tears. Not my best editing, but. Enjoy!

Summary: Matt is grieving your loss hard even months after your death. It's like a non-stop film reel in his mind. He's wracked with despair, and ready to submit when his angel comes to his rescue.

Warnings: ANGST (dead dove, do not eat), talk of death, wounds (stab wound, gunshot wound, blood--canon typical violence), a lot of crying, hurt comfort?, Matt has a lot of self hatred in this from guilt

Other Characters: Father Lantom, Foggy Nelson

Word Count: 1,635

Everything is too loud and too quiet at once. It’s been like that for the last couple of months since you died. His surroundings have been simultaneously amplified and dampened. He doesn’t know how to function. He hasn’t been able to figure out what life means without you. He doesn't feel as if he's living anymore.

Matt can feel when Father Lantom sits down next to him. He's been coming to church more often, as if his desperate prayers will change the past and bring you back to him. He can feel every last bit of the polyblend fibers in Father Lantom's black clothes, but it just feels like static to him. An indistinct haze. But even for as hazy as it is, for as much sensation as it is, it just makes Matt feel more numb. He tunes out Father Lantom’s words, and only when he feels his hand on his back does Matt actually pay attention to what his priest is saying.

“I was playing pool with a man once—a unique fellow with an insightful mind,” the priest starts with a breath. “He imparted words to me that were so incredibly wise it made a priest speechless. It was a simple question: ‘What is grief, if not love preserving?' As I let that sink in, he continued. He said that all those feelings—the anger, the sadness, even the hollowness, everything that brings a person to tears—that is all the unspoken love that you still have for someone. It’s a good thing, Matthew. Love . . . Love isn’t something you switch on and off like a lamp. It’s shouldn’t be—if it is, it isn’t love.”

Matt sits in the pew, his heart heavy, hurting, and crumbling.

“I keep thinking I’m going to find her at home,” Matt finally sniffles, his voice trembling. “I keep hoping that this is a nightmare and I’m going to wake up and we’ll be in bed and she’ll hold me the way she does after I have a bad dream. That she’ll make every bad thing I’m feeling go away.”

Father Lantom puts a careful hand in Matt’s back, and it’s enough to have him break down.

“I miss her so much,” Matt weeps in the empty church. “I-I can’t—I don’t know what to do.”

“Matthew . . .”

“She died in my arms,” he sobs. “I couldn’t—I should’ve—I need her. I’m lost without her.”

Father Lantom knows there’s nothing more to say as Matt lets his grief take center stage, feeling the pain course over him in violent wave after violent wave rather than pushing it down.

This is it, he thinks. This is where he dies, on some random rooftop.

And you know what? He couldn’t care less. Being a lawyer, fighting this fight, day and night, it’s pointless. How can he try helping others when he couldn’t help the person he cared about most? When she, dying in his arms, was comforting him? This is what he deserves—it’s better than what he deserves, he thinks. This is a relatively clean death—a little bullet hole in his flesh. You were all but sliced in two. He deserves to be torn to bits for what he let happen to you . . . He deserves so much worse. But, as he lays there, bleeding out, all he can thing about is how he never deserved you. How you would have been so much better off without him.

How you’d be alive had the two of you never met.

“Matty?” he hears a gentle voice say. “Matty, I’m gonna help you sit up.”

No . . . This isn’t happening. The voice, he knows it. He thought he’d never hear it again.

(Y/N).

“God, you’re heavy,” you grunt as you help him sit upright, a careful, warm hand over where he was shot as the other is firm on his back.

“Wha—Huh?” he starts to groan, panic quickly starting to bubble.

“Matt, calm down, it’s okay,” you urge. “I’m here, angel, don’t worry. You’re okay.”

He sputters your name in disbelief. “Is that really you?”

He feels how your fingers run through his hair and down to a loving grip on his forearm.

“Hey, Matty.”

“Sweetheart, wha—?”

“Matt, I know it’s a lot. I know. But it’s okay. I’m right here.”

“H-How?” he asks with tears in his eyes. “How?”

He listens to you let out a sigh, how your brows furrow, trying to find the best answer to his question. “Divine intervention?”

“Y-You died, (Y/N).” He smells the salt of your tears in the air. “You died in my arms. Why didn’t you hold on?”

“I tried,” you tell him. “I wanted to. You were so scared Matt. God, I—.” You sniffle and bite your lip, a tear rolling down your cheek. “I would give anything to forget the pain on your face, Matty. But then I wouldn’t have been able to see my favorite person.” You wipe the tears away from his cheeks. “Matty, I’m not gone. I’m with you always, you know that, right?”

“I couldn’t save you.”

“You saved the city and the world from a frightening reality. You’ve done it so many times, angel.”

“That doesn’t change what I failed to do.”

“Forever the Catholic—full of guilt.” You cup his cheek with your hand. “Matty, look at me. You are the best thing in the world that ever happened to me, you understand that? You made me feel so loved, so cherished, so safe, and so valued. I never felt more myself than being with you. Everything that you made me feel . . . Matt, that’s love. That’s what love is, what it does, and what it feels like. And I’m sorry I couldn’t stay longer to have you realize that and feel the same.”

“I did, sweetheart, I felt it.”

“Then you need to remember that feeling and let it guide you. I want you to be happy, Matt. I don’t want you to be sad forever. I can’t have that.”

“I miss you so much. I don’t think that’s ever going to stop.”

“It’s only a beautiful thing. It’s all the unexpressed love. We never get enough time with each other, Matt. But the best part of it is, Matt? We’re going to see each other again. It’s gonna be a while, but when we do?” Matt can taste the salt in your tears. “Be there as much as possible for one another, Matt. Okay? Don’t shut people out, don’t push them away because you want to protect them or because you don’t feel like you deserve happiness, because you will mourn that time you lost. Open up your heart again. It’s one of the most beautiful things you can share.”

“I don’t want to leave you,” he cries as he holds onto you. “I don’t want to go back.”

“You know you don’t mean that.”

“I can’t . . . I miss waking up next to you. It keeps getting harder. It’s all crushing in on me.” He sniffles. “The apartment is loosing your smell.”

Tears roll down your cheeks at his distress. “Matt . . .” you soothe. “I miss you more than I can say. There are absolutely no words in any language to tell you how much my heart hurts that I’m not physically with you every day.”

“Then let me stay. Don’t make me go back. Please let me stay here with you.”

“I can’t make that decision. If . . . Matty, I know you know that you’re not finished on Earth.”

“Angel . . .”

“Matty?” you say softly. “Can you open your eyes for me?”

Tears stream down his face as he looks at you, his pupils locking onto yours for the first time. His hand carefully cups your cheek, afraid to touch you—like you’ll disappear. He gently touches your hair next, tucking it behind your ear before his thumb traces over your nose and cheek, finally brushing against your lips.

“(Y/N)?” he croaks.

“Hi, Matty.”

Holding your face in his hands, he leans in for the kiss of a lifetime, pouring every ounce of love he has into in.

“H-How . . .? I don't . . . You’re more beautiful than I could have ever imagined,” he sniffles as he moves to rest his forehead against mine. “God . . . You’re just . . . You’re here. You’re perfect.”

“Those are some super senses, huh?” you joke with a wet chuckle as you rest your foreheads on one another.

“I love you so much, (Y/N). I love you more than you’ll ever know.”

“Pull through for me, Matt,” you plea. “You’re not done yet, my angel. I know you’re not.”

“You’re gonna be with me, huh?”

“Forever and always, every step of the way. And hey—I better not see you again until it’s your time. Actually your time.”

“Promise,” he says with a soft smile, holding your face in his hands as he looks at you with tears in his eyes, desperately trying to memorize every last detail in your face.

“Love you, angel.”

“Love you more.”

He feels the burning, piercing pain in his ribs before anything else. Then, it’s the dried blood on his skin. Foggy’s muttering to himself in the kitchen about how he needs to find better friends that don’t dress up and prance around at night in ways that bring them two steps away from death.

When Matt’s eyes flutter open into a darkness he’s become accustomed to, tears begin to sting at his eyes as a fresh, strong whiff of your scent hits his nose in his apartment as if you’re walking by him like you’d done so many times before.

Forever and always.

While it hurts, Matt knows from that point on things will start to get a little easier. You're here with him, after all.

Permanent Taglist: @majesticavenger @steampowerednightvaler @themusingsofmany @just-the-hiddles @toozmanykids @dangertoozmanykids101 @clints-worldavengers @theburningbookshop @itwasthereaminuteago @peter1ismybrother@hellskitchens-whore @dpaccione @catnip987 @blackhawkfanatic

Matt Murdock Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters @loves0phelia

Comments/comment reblogs from the initial post: @starr60 @paradox-brody-chase @glowstick-lesbian @cconsummatumestt @mattmurdockmylove @toracainz @alicecullenlvr @fish-wif-one-fin @zheezs14 @chimychimybangbang @sunshinemunchkin @fayeatheart @eugenedream @hotleaf-juice @writeroutoftime @messymissy @coffeeandoldermen @himboelover @l0caltiredgirl @amoonagedaydreamer @briefcasejuice @just-a-lazy-person @bustlingcrowdsxorxsilentsleepers @allegra-writes

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myteavsricochet · 11 months ago

Text

Favorite firstprince fanfics, another incomplete list:

(Part 1)

Come Let Me Love You

Henry always struggled to have a good night's sleep. Alex made it easier over the years they had been together, but little cries in the middle of the night always woke Henry.

A little glimpse into a future where Alex and Henry are doting fathers to a beautiful little girl.

Obliviously Devoted

She looks at him in the way only June can. She's the only one he'll allow it from without a fight. "I don't know if you're ready to have this conversation or not."

His fork clatters to the plate in front of him. "What is that supposed to mean?"

June sighs a sigh of long-suffering and pinches the bridge of her nose, before she looks him dead in the eye and sets his world upside down. "You know you and Henry are dating, right?"

Alex gapes at her. Mouth hung open, eyes blown wide. "W-what?"

"I say this with all the love in the world," she says. "But sometimes, I swear, you are the most oblivious idiot on the face of the planet."

Tags: idiots in love, oblivious acd, best friends to lovers, alternate universe - roommates/housemates

(even though you want to) please try to never grow up

“You better have a good fucking reason for sending me to voicemail, Hen.” He glares at the phone for one second before he actually sees the screen, and then his face melts into something Henry can only describe as fond. “Oh,” he whispers, dropping his mug of coffee onto the counter so he can lean in closer to the phone. “Look who’s there.”

“Yeah.” Henry keeps his voice so low he isn’t even sure Alex can hear him. He doesn’t seem to mind, eyes taking in the picture in front of him with parted lips, the edge of his finger covering the camera when he undoubtedly reaches to caress his daughter’s head.

Or, Alex misses his daughter when he goes back to work after a long paternity leave.

tags: domestic, tooth-rotting fluff, family fic

Let Me Wash Away Your Worries

Alex has had a terrible week. Henry is right there to take care of him.

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Bath Sex, Cuddling & Snuggling, Romantic Fluff, Praise Kink, Alex Claremont-Diaz Needs a Hug, Worship

ephemeral enchantments

in which Henry is an overworked barista with a tendency to embarrass himself in front of everything that breaths and Alex is charmed from the first time he met him.

Tags: Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Awkward Flirting

Three fights Alex and Henry never had

Yes, Alex and Henry got their Happily Ever After. But that doesn't mean everything was just automatically perfect when they moved in together...

Tags: Established Relationship, Domestic Fluff

am i homophobic? (URGENT) (PLEASE HELP)

Now, it might be pretty early in the morning and Alex’s brain functions might not be working as quickly as they normally do, but he can still put two and two together. There's a strange man in their kitchen. Henry is shirtless, rumpled, and holding two pairs of boxers. Henry and this Sam guy slept together. Which… obviously is fine because Alex is not an asshole, but he’s definitely feeling something about this development that he will examine at a later date. But of course, instead of saying something normal, you know, like a normal person would, he says, “Ohh.” Like a fucking weirdo.

or: the "am i homophobic?" roommate au that no one asked for

Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Sexuality Crisis, Mentions of homophobia, no one is like actually homophobic though, Idiots in Love, Explicit Sexual Content, Unsafe Sex

The shape of your lips bruising my heart

So, that neck-kissing scene in the bloopers? Yeah, that one. Well. I wrote it.

—

In which Alex has a hard time leaving the hotel after their night in Paris.

you’re leaving (now i’m left amongst the living)

Six years since they've been together, Alex and Henry were now a far cry from the lovestruck couple they once were when their history began. If you ask Alex, all of it was Henry’s fault. If you ask Henry, he’d agree and say that Alex was right.

But before Alex could ever find out why Henry does not seem like the man he once decided to spend the rest of his life with, he already walked away from it all. Now, Henry was alone, left to deal with whatever shattered remains he could salvage from his life.

Or, the one where Henry’s sick and Alex only finds out two years after they've broken up.

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Lawyer Alex, Writer Henry, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Feels, Angst and Humor, Fluff and Angst, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Hospitalization

Fifty First Dates

Henry has used a dating app exactly one time. Predictably, the date turns out to be terrible. The bartender, however, is not.

A cute stranger’s solution to Henry’s woeful dating life is to set him up on fifty first dates.

Most People Exist

Henry Fox is a nurse at the New York Cancer Center. He’s happy with his job, content enough with his life, but it all gets turned on its head when he connects with a patient with a brain tumor—Alex Claremont-Diaz.

———

Henry is a nurse, Alex is a patient.

Tags: Alternate Universe - Hospital, Cancer, Nurses & Nursing, Minor Character Death, Falling In Love, Slow Burn, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, They will end up happy I pinky swear

i want your dreary mondays

“You little menace,” a voice says from the door, entirely too fond to be anything mean. “I told you to wait by the car, not go inside.” The man steps inside, shaking the rain from his hair, and Henry is treated to the sight of the most beautiful man he’s seen in his entire life, standing in the middle of his shop with clothes dripping to the floor and raincoat bundled up around him. He notices then the umbrella clutched in the little boy’s hand, the innocent wide eyes watching his father, and the picture forms in his head.

Or, five times Henry makes a piece of art for Alex's son on his drinks, and one time he does it for Alex himself.

It's Nice to Have a Friend

Two boys meet on a beach, build a sand castle, write letters, and fall in love.

Tags: Alternative Universe - Childhood friends, Friends to lovers, Slow Burn, Growing up together

Leave A Message

"This is Alex Claremont-Diaz's phone. If it's a business matter, I don't know how you got ahold of this number, but if you have my number that means you probably have Zahra's. Call her instead. If you're friends or family, just text me. If you're anyone else, I'll call you back as soon as I can."

Or: Alex's voicemail message over the years, and the messages people leave for him.

I must tell you what you will not ask

Henry's lower lip wobbles, and a fresh tear rolls down his cheek. Alex watches it track down to his chin, and wonders if Henry would mind him wiping it away. “I really was looking forward to seeing them.”

Another tear escapes, and this time Alex can't help but lean forward and brush it away with his thumb. Henry's breath catches, and he looks at Alex, wearing an expression he can't quite parse. “Come home with me,” Alex blurts out.

Henry's plans for Christmas fall through, so Alex invites him home for the holidays. They're best friends, strictly platonic roommates, so why does everyone think they're dating?

drive-thru mornings

“Would you like to pay cash or by card, sir?”

Alex startles, but recovers quickly and smiles charmingly at the girl in the window. Maggie, her tag reads. “By card, darlin’,” he says. “Actually, could I pay for the man behind me, as well? I have no idea what he ordered, but he’s strikingly handsome, isn’t he?”

Tags: Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Dorks in love

you turned a moment (into forever)

Sharing an apartment with Alex had seemed like a good idea at first. They’re best friends, prices in Brooklyn are absurd, and they had both been in urgent need of residence – it only made sense.

Except for the small, tiny, teeny, barely there fact that Henry has been in love with Alex from the first moment he laid eyes on him. And the fact that Alex doesn’t know, and can never find out.

—

Or, as coffeecatsme so eloquently put it: Roommates AU where Alex has insomnia and slips into Henry’s bed every night because it’s the only way he gets a good night’s sleep.

You Can Hear It In The Silence

At the Lake House, Henry doesn’t run when Alex tells him he loves him. But he can’t say it back; too afraid of the consequences it would have, no matter how true it is. But as the truth settles in, Henry decides Alex is worth fighting for. So he does.

A Long Way From the Playground

Henry and Alex were best friends growing up until they went to separate colleges and they grew apart. When they see each other again as adults, against the odds, both living in the same city again, will it be a joyful reunion or will the pain of the years apart get in the way? How do you become friends again when there is so much of the past in the way?

Oblivion

The man starts to cock the hammer of gun, and Alex squeezes his eyes shut, his lower lip trembling almost imperceptibly.

“Stop!” Henry shouts, his voice cracking. “I’ll give you whatever you want, I’ll do anything…just please, don’t hurt him.”

Alex’s eyes fly open, shooting Henry the same incredulous look that he gave him in the hallway, and Henry knows he’s shown too much of his hand, revealed a part of himself that he’d sworn he would take to his grave, but he’s too full of fear and desperation to feel self-conscious about it now. He can deal with the consequences when they get out of this.

If they get out of this.

******

What if the moment in the hospital wasn’t a false alarm and the publicity surrounding the forced bromance between Alex and Henry had the adverse effect of them being kidnapped together?

Confidential Memorandum

"Hello, Mr. Fox-Mountchristen's office. How may I help you?"

"Hello, can I speak to Mr. Fox-Mount-krishen, please?"

Alex blinked. After two weeks of hearing nothing but the voices of snooty men and frazzled secretaries calling in, the person on the other line now sounded decidedly neither snooty nor male nor in any way adult.

It was a little girl.

"Mr. Fox-Mountchristen's unfortunately in a meeting right now,” Alex began slowly, “but I could take a message?"

"Oh." The girl paused. "You're not Mr. Hunter."

Alex starts a new job as Henry's new assistant. Henry's daughter keeps calling the office and leaving him messages.

we thought we ruled the world

Alex stares down at his latest text from Henry. A link to an article he’s seen about ten versions of so far. He’s managed to resist clicking on any of them, but now Henry is sending it, so he supposes he should at least give it a skim.

How Prince Henry’s Relationship With FSOTUS Lost Ellen Claremont The Election

............

Or, what would have happened if Ellen lost.

Run, Don't Walk

Henry loves sex. He loved sex even before he was with Alex, although there's something to be said for the level of precision and intimacy acquired through years of learning each other's bodies. He's liked being filled from the first time he ever experienced the feeling, and he doesn't think he'll ever love anything quite as much as he loves getting fucked.

But this? This is giving him pause for thought.

Tags: Porn without plot, Marathon sex, Henry loves sex, and Alex, and sex with Alex

london bridge has fallen down

Alex can feel the eyes of the room on him as Shaan approaches his side. Then, Shaan quietly murmurs in his ear. They’re words he’s thought about before, distantly wondering about what might happen when they were finally uttered. How their lives might change. There’s nothing that can prepare him for the reality of it though, nothing that can prepare him for how his breath hitches when Shaan speaks.

‘London Bridge is down, Sir.’

---

Queen Mary is dead. Henry doesn't know how to feel.

Screw Your Courage to the Sticking Place (and forget macbeth is a fucking tragedy)

"You don't owe me anything."

"Of course I do. If you have time now...there are things I'd like to say."

Alex hesitates.

"I know I don't have any right to ask you to listen," Henry adds. He sounds so hopeful though.

A little closure doesn't sound like a terrible thing. Agreeing to go with Henry, alone, to Kensington Palace sounds like returning to the scene of a crime.

It's been over a decade since their breakup - Alex is now a single dad forging his career as a lawyer, and Henry's finally getting the courage to stand up to his grandmother. In finding themselves, can they also find their way back to each other?

#here we go #there will probably be a part 3 #firstprince fanfic #rwrb #rwrb fanfic #firstprince #red white and royal blue #alex claremont diaz #henry fox

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taekookielove0130 · 6 months ago

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Slowly, Unintentionally.

Part 3 Pairing: Idol!Min Yoongi x Nerd!Reader

Summary:

Y/N and Yoongi are two individuals in completely different worlds who collide due to an arranged marriage. What happens when there’s somebody else living with them too?

⚠️ Warnings: Smut, fluff, angst, heartbreak, and crying. Tissues are highly recommended!

Part 1 :

Part 2:

One week later...

Y/N's POV

It’s been a week since a beautiful angel stepped into our lives and we’ve already grown so close. I can say I truly love Ae-cha with all my heart. We spend so much time together. She helps me out in the kitchen (even though it just means she’s going to rummage through the cupboards and find a good snack) and even slips into my bed late at night. She’s sneaky and cute and just downright lovely to me. Despite the way Yoongi despises me with every fibre of his being, I can say that he’s at least able to tolerate my presence now. Barely, but still.

I’m broken out of my thoughts as I feel a pair of small hands sneak around my waist.

“Oh, you’re back!” I say and turn to look at Ae-cha who beams at me, nodding eagerly. Today, I took a leave from my office just to make sure I was there for Ae-cha as she came back from her first guitar lesson. I hoped I'd be at least a little helpful for her and was definitely not disappointed as my little girl came back home and immediately sought me out. She starts talking animatedly about how wonderful her teacher had been and how patient he was to make sure she got all the basics right before beginning their lesson.

Knowing that she probably already knew all those basics but still liked appreciating the teacher for her thoughtfulness, I smile at her and then realize there’s another person in the kitchen at the sound of someone clearing their throat. I realize it’s Yoongi by the sound and turn around returning to my work as I know he wants to talk to Ae-cha. Hence, you can see I’m surprised when he softly calls out,

“Y/N.”

Hiding the fact that my heart just skipped a goddamn beat hearing him speak my name in such a soft tone, I slowly turn to face him. He’s standing there. Leaning against the top of the kitchen counter, looking impeccably handsome as ever.

“Can we talk?”

The softly posed question both confuses and scares me to an equal level though I just gulp, trying to wet my suddenly dry throat and manage to muster a believable smile.

“Yeah, sure.” I say and find myself even more confused as he instructs Ae-cha to go to her room and complete her homework. The little girl turns to send a secretive smile at me and runs outside, giggling after I dazedly smile back at her.

Yoongi stays there for a while, watching her go before he directs his attention at me. Being the centre of attention has always made me nervous and anxious but I don’t understand why being the centre of Yoongi’s attention has me feeling happy and powerful. It feels as if l my life I was used to being invisible, made peace with the fact but If Yoongi looks at me, I never want him to look away. He walks towards me and stops at an arm’s distance.

“I spoke to Ae-cha’s guardian yesterday and he told me that adoption would be a good option if we want to keep her with us. Otherwise, according to the law she’ll have to be sent to an orphanage. My legal team has told me that adoption can only be possible if there’s a functioning relationship between the couple. It’s said that the officers are hard to convince unless the pair have and understanding with each other. I know that we haven’t exactly been a proper couple but do you think we can at least try to pretend?

The fact that he wanted to talk to me only because it was about Ae-cha breaks my heart again. Even worse, he’s just giving that to me as a piece of information, not even slightly caring about my opinion. I struggle to gather the broken pieces before I say,

“Yeah, I think we can.”

He doesn’t make my struggle easier when he speaks again,

“Thanks. But you know that I’m only asking you this for Ae-cha, right? It has nothing to do with us.”

I feel tears prick my eyes but I hold on, deciding not to break down in front of him. I offer my best smile to him and nod.

He replies with an,

“Oh good. See you later then.” and walks out.

I run to my room and lock the door before crying my hearts out. Within a few minutes, I hear a soft knock on my door. Groaning, I'm about to tell whoever it is to go away when

"Y/n, Are you in there?" Ae-cha's voice sounds from the other side of the door. Panicking slightly, I sniff a few times, hurriedly running to the restroom and splashing my face with water.

"Yeah, what's up?" I ask, smiling brightly at her after opening the door to my room.

The little girl eyes me up and down suspiciously as if she isn't convinced everything's fine.

"hm, I was going to watch a movie. Wanna join?"

I frown, trying to find out why exactly she's behaving as if she knows everything before shrugging as to say,

"Sure, why not."

Ae-cha settles down on the couch, flipping through the programs to find a good movie while I make some popcorn for us.

After we settle comfortably on the couch and the movie is playing, I space out. Not that I mean to, but the recent events all awaken my overthinking abilities. I had a pretty good day from the morning, what with Ae-cha's guitar lessons and all but once again, Yoongi had to ruin it. But even with how badly he treats me, I cannot bring myself to hate this man. I'm more annoyed than angry actually. If he wanted to go about the adoption process, I'm pretty sure he'll be able to surpass all the legal procedures with his societal standing and popularity. But he was deciding to do it the legal way. And I respect that, truly. But the least he could do for me, was to treat me like an actual human being and consider my feelings about the whole things. At least for the sake of pretending, we had to get to know each other. He just...

As the million wild thoughts race through my mind, I feel a soft warm body slowly move towards me on the couch. Turning, I see e-cha snuggling under my arm, cuddling closer and laying her head on my shoulder. at least, she tries to but with her height, she's only successful at lading on my chest. Laughing softly, I pull her closer, creating a comfortable space for her to lie down on the couch.

Smiling up at me, she leans closer and for a second I'm almost afraid. But then, her soft lips gently graze my cheek and I sit, frozen at what just happened. Then, she gets back to her previous position. Pleasantly surprised, I'm only able to wrap her up in my arms and almost miss it when she whispers softly,

"I'm there for you."

The burn of my eyes and the sudden tightness in my throat are all to familiar but i stubbornly blink them back, only nodding and pressing a kiss to her temple. She looks up at me and we smile at each other.

This wonderful creature, so small. But filled with so much knowledge. I sit there in awe trying to comprehend how she can be so understanding in spite of not understanding!?!?

I finally decide, I can tackle whatever Yoongi throws t me, no matter how hard as long as I have my dear Ae-cha by my side. I love her. And I love him. In different ways. Yet at the same time, soo similar.

_______________________________________________________

That was quite a long break. I apologize for it. But as you can see, I'm back. I'm working on this fic and a small one-shot based on Jimin. SO, stay tuned. Do tell me what you think.

Does Ae-cha KNOW what happened between them? Is Yoongi doing this the legal way just for formality's sake or for something else? Ae-cha is actually and angel, isn't she?

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stardusthuntress · 6 months ago

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Somebody to Lean On

Crosshair x reader (she/they pronouns; I think, I’m not very good with she/they, this is practice, please tell me if I messed it up!)

Word Count: ~1.25k, ~4 pgs

TW/Summary: reader is depressed/anxious and in need of a shoulder to cry on; no smut, just purely a hurt-comfort fic!

dividers by: @/saradika

It’s one of those nights when everything just feels off.

Today was a day just like any other day. You went on missions with the boys, like always, and then you rested, ate dinner round a campfire, and spent a few hours laughing and relaxing before bed.

But something was just off.

Like usual, the bad batch treated you like you were just one of the guys. Normally, you liked that. But part of you had hoped that tonight maybe someone would remember you were a woman, and would appreciate that about you, even if it didn’t get any farther than flirting for a few minutes. But none of them had.

So instead you took some time to yourself and found a quiet rock away from the group to just sit and look at the stars and enjoy the natural world for what it is.

Someone notices you’re gone, no one is quite sure who, simply that they all find themselves looking around at the realization that you are no longer beside them.

Tech finds you and wants to talk at you, but he doesn’t take it too hard when you tell him “I’m really not in the mood for a chat right now. Please leave me alone.”

And he leaves, no questions asked. He’s used to it with his brothers, he doesn’t think too much about it, didn’t even look up from his datapad.

But once he’s gone you kinda miss the company and regret saying it.

He returns to the others, nose still scrolling through data.

Hunter - always a good sergeant - asks where you are.

Tech quickly fills in, always ready with what information he has. “They said they wanted to be alone.”

The others know you didn’t really mean that, you’re just having a rough day. They exchange glances, unsure of what they can do for you.

Hunter opens the conversation, wanting to keep his squad functioning at it’s best, with all its members content. Well, as content as possible, considering this is war… Before they can figure out what to do about it Hunter notices that Crosshair, who was there when the conversation started, has disappeared. He knows that means his brother is looking for you.

Crosshair traces Tech’s steps back to your hideout.

You know it’s him approaching. Silent footsteps, as always, no matter how many crunchy leaves you always seem to find with every step. But he makes a point to snap off brittle twigs and spring snappy branches every few feet so you know he’s there and that it’s him.

Part of you wonders if that’s a habit because he knows Hunter could track it if something happened to him.

Instinctively and impulsively you prepare to tell him you want space right now. Your voice is shaky when the message is finally delivered.

He ignores your comment, wordlessly walking over to you, but pauses for a moment a pace away.

You try to guess what his sarcastically rude comment is going to be this time… When his backpack plops down next to you…And he turns and sits down.

He faces away, knowing you probably don’t want to feel pressured by an intense stare. But he sits where his hip brushes yours, as he moves to get out his cleaning kit.

He sits beside you in silence, cleaning his fire puncher for a while.

Realizing he’s not going anywhere, you eventually start to lean into him a bit. Over the course of a few minutes, it evolves to resting your temple on his shoulder.

Crosshair sighs and you immediately retreat and mutter a ‘sorry’ under your breath, knowing he doesn’t really like touch.

But what he does next surprises you… He gets up to adjust, and you automatically retreat into yourself more… Until the shuffling gets closer, and suddenly two knees appear on either side of yours, but he’s careful not to touch you since he hasn’t asked yet. Soon, it’s followed by two arms just above his legs, hands gesturing for you to lean back into him.

You pause, confused, staring at the hand that gestured to you, brow knitted.

Crosshair almost never suggested touch nor outwardly comforted anyone. Though, Echo has a few stories from Skako Minor that suggest this isn’t a new thing, simply a very rare one.

He patiently gestures again.

You finally look back at him confused.

He simply looks back, toothpick bobbing, hiding the small smirk in the corner of his lips. Satisfied at your reaction to knowing you are one of the rare recipients of his offer to touch.

Slowly, he turns you using a soft touch upon your knee. One hand finds your shoulder, the other your calf and he carefully pulls you back into his chest. His touch is so gentle you know if you resisted, even a little, his tugging wouldn’t shift you at all. But you trust him so you let him, even if you’re not sure why you do.

After a moment of awkwardness you give in to the need for soothing touch and nestle into his shoulder/chest.

He starts rubbing your shoulder and then your back, slowly, and barely there.

After a few minutes it’s clear he’s not going anywhere and the intense emotions you were dealing with when he showed up have decided that the coast is clear and they can visit you once again.

You end up crying into his shoulder.

He doesn’t say a word, but he also doesn’t go anywhere. He just stays put and holds you. He never asks why. He just sits with you through it all.

“Thank you” you mumble after a it subsides, drying your tears on your sleeve.

He just shrugs and continues to pet your hair.

Your brows furrow. You don’t know why you just cried into his shoulder. But it does feel better now that it’s out. Maybe he deserves an explanation for why you just found yourself bawling into his arms, though?

But do you even know why? You rack your brain. Surely, there must be a logical explanation for this, right?

Crosshair, with his knack for reading people like an open book, guesses what you’re worrying about and heads you off. “You don’t have to tell me,” he grumbles.

You huff a sad laugh, “Thanks… I’m sorry to do that to you though. You shouldn’t have to deal with me when I’m like this.”

“You’re stronger than you know,” is all he says

You look up at him, shocked.

There’s no anger or resentment in his eyes when they meet yours, just a softness that’s so uncharacteristic of the man you thought you knew, but perhaps he’s not as gruff and hardened as you once thought he was.

You feel the tears welling in your eyes again, a sob getting lodged in your throat, the softness in his eyes something you are unaccustomed to seeing directed at you from anyone, these days.

“Let it out, doll. I got you.”

And the tears flow, once more.

When you’re done, still sniffling into his shoulder a bit, he plucks a tiny flower from amidst the grasses and uses it to tuck your hair behind your ear.

You smile, and look up at him sheepishly. He gives you one of his characteristic half-smiles, and holds you tight, content to just sit there with you for as long as you need.

The next day, he’s happy to see that familiar spark of your fiery personality rekindling in your eyes when he wakes you for your watch shift with a kiss on your temple…

Please don’t steal my work! I pour my heart into these so if you like it please reblog (don't just like, PLEASE) to share instead of reposting it! And NO dropping it into an AI! That’s stealing my work and feeding it to an AI without my consent. It is not okay to give an AI something you didn’t write yourself!

#zenith writes #tbb crosshair x reader #crosshair x reader #hurt comfort #crosshair hurt comfort

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sukiipjs · 8 months ago

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✮ BLONDIE : PT 2

°:. *₊ ° . ☆ °:. *₊ ° . ° .•

↳ nick sturniolo x masc reader

↳ words - 1961

↳ summary - you’ve been having a hard time realizing and accepting the fact that you’re gay, and in love with your best friend. you try to ignore the feelings but that only makes everything worse until you can’t hide it anymore.

↳ contains - swearing, use of y/n, angst, crying, verbal fighting, idrk 😭 [READ PT 1 - PT 3]

↳ song - blondie by current joys

°:. *₊ ° . ☆ °:. *₊ ° . ° .•

°:. *₊ ° . ☆

days after and nick hasn’t texted me since. no more random tiktok’s, no more check ins, just complete nothingness now. i don’t blame him of course, i’d do the same if he was being as shitty as me right now. but honestly i miss those texts so so much, even if i rarely responded to him, or more so i miss the texts we had before all this stupid shit started.

but again, i truly don’t even know when it all started, it was so easy to just brush this off these feelings and whatever as a friend thing before and not think of it too much. why can’t it just be a friend thing now?

actually i think ive just accepted it all at this point though. i love him and no it’s not just a friend thing, it’s way more and it always has been way more. sure i might wish it wasn’t, but it is and i know it is and i cant just ignore it.

i’m not even trying to get rid of it anymore, i don’t have the strength for hiding it. honestly i think if i kept trying to get rid of it, it wouldn’t even work. obviously i still won’t tell him, or anyone, unless he pries it out of me. i know he doesn’t feel the same and i doubt he even looks at me as a friend anymore.

☆ °:. *₊ ° . °

i continue repeating my own sad cycle of doing nothing but staying in bed, hiding myself from the world… without nick. i still check up on his socials, being the weird stalker that i am and looking at all the story’s and snapchats he posted of himself, he looks just fine without me, of course.

i lay in bed, staring at my phone to avoid looking at the mess around my room. i scroll and scroll, starting to see a weird amount of videos of people taking care of themselves or videos of people ‘spring cleaning’.

i scroll away, i really don’t need to see people functioning completely fine right now, it’s like their taunting me, laughing at me. but the videos just keep coming back, haunting me, laughing at me. all i see through my scrolling cycle is random ass dog videos, cleaning and organizing videos, or nick edits… and that’s exactly what i need.

i let out a loud sigh, slightly rolling my eyes then rolling over to my other side, having my blanket wrap around me. i choose to just swipe off the app and throw my phone to the side of me before closing my eyes and just trying to get some sleep. that way those videos, my stupid feelings, and not even nick can haunt my mind anymore.

°:. *₊ ° . ☆

my eyes flicker open, the sun shining directly in my face and i finally decide to actually do something good for myself and go out for a walk when the sun and clear weather is still out, it’s been raining almost the whole time i’ve seen dying in my room alone.

i slowly move myself up to sit, leaning my back on the wooden headboard behind me and sitting on some pillows below that cushion me. i stretch out my arms in front of me, yawning and running my fingers through my hair to fix the shaggy mess.

i move myself off my bed, stand up then fixing my off center shirt and trying to flatten out a few wrinkles. i throw the blanket that covered me to the side and decide to just throw the shirt and pants that i wear off me -actually putting them somewhere other than on the floor too- i pick out a clean outfit, already feeling way less gross, it’s the small things that count right.

i walk out my room, not forgetting to grab my phone to come with me before going into my bathroom, splashing my face with water to get me more awake. i run my hands in my hair again, fixing it up with my mirror in front of me so i can actually see what i’m doing before grabbing some actual water giving myself something to drink other than dr pepper.

finally i walk out to go by my door, grabbing a light jacket and pulling it over my arms then putting on my shoes and heading out the door. i start off to go a longer way, turning the corner of the sidewalk. i feel all the small breezes on my skin as i get actual sun and nature.

i continue walking random ways, i just want to be out of the mess that i’ve been living in for so long right now. it actually feels nice to be outside, not sitting in a gross hole of dirty clothes and dishes.

☆ °:. *₊ ° . °

i walk, making my way around the neighborhood, my eye catching all the small colorful flowers blooming up and all the small brown squirrels scurrying to run up trees as i pass them. i remember all the times me and nick went out, running around the streets when we were younger. not thinking of anything, just being kids living a simple life. i wish it was still that simple.

as i walk, still obviously thinking of nick, i notice the sky above graying and clouds starting to cover up the sun, shit. i start to walk a little faster, hopefully being able to get home before it pours but as soon as i speed up, small water drops start to fall on me.

i grab the end of my jacket to pull it over my head, holding it over me to shield out the rain. the sides of my jacket block my view as i focus on the path i walk to my place.

i look down at my feet walking, trying not to get too wet as the rain pours more and more, bouncing off the sidewalk. suddenly i feel two hands place on me, pushing me back, “the fuck.” i mutter as i look up, gaining my balance on my feet again. “oh” my face softens as i see nick standing in front of me, his blonde hair damp and drops of water falling from his cheek. he stares at me, i can tell he’s mad and obviously i can tell it’s my doing.

��nick-“ he cuts me off quickly, slightly pushing against my shoulders again as i put my jacket down, wearing it normally, my head now getting pelted with rain. “no, i talk. what the fuck y/n. honestly what has been going gone, you’ve completely ignored me for weeks, you keep blowing me off and i don’t fucking know what i did and the only way i can talk to you about this is randomly bumping into you since you won’t even answer my texts?”

“nick-“ i sigh as i try speaking again but he pushes me back once more. his glassy eyes narrow and i see water pooling in them, i can’t tell if it’s rain or tears. “no! you’re my- you’re supposed to be my best friend and this shit isn’t cutting it y/n! just what is it! what is it. what did i do please just talk to me. if you hate me or something just tell me!” he shouts, his fists starting to clench as i wipe the wet hair in my face away.

“nick stop. you- you didn’t do anything i promise, i’m sorry okay” my voice croaks, i can feel the water pooling in my own eyes now. “then what is it! you can’t just block me out, out of no where.” i shake my head, trying to figure out how to say an actual explanation without saying too much. “nick i’m sorry!”

“stop apologizing! i’m not asking for that, i’m asking for an answer, please. i feel like shit and you haven’t even been there, i kept trying to talk and hang out with you but apparently you hate me now and never want to see me again, i get it!” he scoffs, staring me down as his eyes shut, tears dropping as he takes a breath before opening his eyes back up, wiping off the mixture of tears and rain.

“like i said, if you hate me or suddenly don’t want to be my friend, tell me. i truly, truly, don’t understand this shit your pulling and if you won’t talk now then when will we? you’ll just ignore me again so just spit it out now!” nick keeps rambling on and i just stare at him, seeing how hurt i’ve actually made him. i don’t know what to say, i really don’t.

i just want to shut him up, have him realize that it’s my fault and i don’t hate him. i cut him off as he continues to yell at me, “nick!” my voice feels weak as he shouts back, “what!” i stare at him for a moment, seeing those blue eyes i miss, those star earrings, his grown out roots and before i know it my hands go up to his face, pulling him in as our lips press together.

my hands hold him as strands of his hair poke my fingers, our noses slightly brushing against each others. i quickly step back, eyes wide as i realize what i just did, taking my hands back. “i-im sorry“ my breath is short before i turn around, running away from him to get back to the shit hole of comfort i’m living in to avoid what i just confessed.

i swear i hear him try to call my name but i ignore it, i can’t see him. what did i just do. i can’t even process any of this.

°:. *₊ ° . ☆

i finally reach my place again and i swiftly open my door and walk inside, standing as raindrops slide off of me, creating a small puddle on the floor below. i shake off my hair a little, flicking the water droplets off of me. i take off my jacket, putting it on a hook to let it dry as i take off my shoes too, leaving them by the door.

i wipe my face off with the palms of my hands, wiping off many of my tears that still fall. i walk over to my fridge, getting out another dr pepper then walking over to my couch, slumping down into it as i set my can down and wrap a blanket around myself to warm me up again.

i slowly slide to the side, laying myself down on the cushions. why the actual fuck would i kiss him? what that really the best thing i could do? he already hated me, i did not have to make it worse. i ponder in my head, genuinely trying to find a valid reason of why i just kissed my best friend that hates me. oh. my. god. i’ve ruined my life -not like it was already ruined- i’m never coming back from this.

i stare at the unopened dr pepper sitting on my coffee table, i try making myself reach for it but my arms don’t want to leave the warmth of the blanket i’m huddled in. i hear my phone buzz next to the dr pepper on, i also cannot seem to have my arm reach out to see who’s calling, i hope it’s not who i think but why would he even call me?

rain pelts out on my window, water sliding down the cold glass of it as i lay holding my blanket close to me, pulling the blanket over my eyes as they close, resting as i try forget about my phone continuously buzzing and the drink still on my table.

☆ °:. *₊ ° . °

taglist : @slutforchriss @mattsleftnipple03 @mattsdinosweater @ccolleenn @mixvchelle @leah-loves-lilies @sturn-wrld @redz0nez9 @cheriematt @freshloveforthefit @nickuniversity @whore4matt @txssvx @will-yummy @matty-bear @venusbabysblog @m0r94n

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo smut #nicolas sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢𝐢𝐩𝐣𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝜗𝜚⋆#sukiipjs #𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢𝐢𝐩𝐣𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝜗𝜚⋆

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