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#and then the next week im trying so hard to swallow my disappointment over what they cut/changed
milkbreadtoast · 8 months
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me trying so hard to not let all the little offenses piling up from the twsb webtoon ruin my day i am trying so hard not to care
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pupsclawz · 1 year
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Gone
Part II
Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Reader
Warnings: Drug abuse/overdose, (attempted) suicide, dark themes.
Word count: 743 words
Summary: You were having a breakdown when you decided you finally had enough. (You didn't die in this one... Or did you?)
a/n: I know I said I wasn't gonna post but I just had a burst of inspiration. This one is a bit dark so. Warnings are above. Also, Jenna isn't in this ch just yet but it will be a JennaxR fic. I also tried to make this realistic as possible (Im sure I failed). Anyways no beta, I hope ya'll enjoy! Edited: Basically the old a/n said that this Jennas name wasnt mentioned in this chapter. My brain decided that it wasn't Jenna in this ch but someone else. Uhhh sorry for that but yeah!
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You sat at the edge of your bed smiling as silent tears streaked down your face. These past few weeks had been hectic and overwhelming, and every single suppressed thing came crashing down on you. 
“You aren’t good enough.”
“You’re a fucking failure.”
“You can’t even do shit right.”
“No one cares about you.”
“See? If they did care, they’d be here. Where are they?”
“You don’t even know what to do with your pathetic self”
“Fucking coward! Just tell someone,”
“If they knew, they wouldn't believe you. Look at how many times you’ve told them something only to be brushed off,” 
Your body shook as you were racked with sobs, more tears streaming down your face. You couldn’t help but believe the voices. 
With shaky hands, you reached forward, grabbing a bottle of pills on the nightstand. You read the label and warnings on the bottle. 
“They’re not gonna miss you when you’re gone,”
“You’ve done nothing for them so, they’ll probably be glad that you’re gone,”
“It’s not like you mattered anyways. Your grades were always low, you’re the lazy one, you can’t even follow simple instructions!”
“Now look at you! Jobless laying around all day like you own the fuckin world!”
“You’re worthless! Ya fuckin disappointment!”
With trembling hands, you slowly grasped the cap of the bottle as you pressed down and slowly unscrewed it. You looked down at the pills bouncing around as you gently shook it, ruminating on what you should do next.
“You’re a disappointment”
A disappointment. That was all you were. Ever since you were a child, everyone’s expectations about you, including your own, was always high. While you did fine for most of your childhood years, these recent ones only got worse. You seemed to fail on anything that you do. Every fucking thing that you were told to do just wasn’t good enough. 
“You’re worthless!”
Your hands trembled more and more as the voice kept echoing in your mind. The sound of the pills reaching your ears was barely enough to keep you grounded. Being told that you were worthless while seemingly trying harder than most was infuriating. You tried so hard to do everything in your power to be enough for them and yet they still didn’t appreciate you or your efforts. 
With the final thought, you looked back down at the bottle before downing every single pill left inside. You swallowed what you could while spitting out the rest as air became a necessity. You fell forwards onto the floor in a coughing fit trying to get some air.
You sat on the floor with your back against a wall as you waited for the silent and peaceful bliss to arrive. 
It was about 25 minutes later when you started to feel the effects of the drug. You felt as if the whole world was spinning (Technically it is) and your stomach felt like it was being stabbed over and over again. A few moments later, you began to feel drowsy despite the pain. You curled up into a fetal position, letting yourself drift off; Awake but not fully.
You were startled out of your trance as your phone began to ring. You blearily looked up before clumsily scrambling to get it. After a few minutes of trying you finally had the ringing phone in your hands. You read the name before you answered the phone, not registering who was calling.
“Hey y/n!” A feminine voice sounded through the phone.
You just groaned in response, feeling worse than before.
“Hey, you okay?” The girl asked in a worried tone.
You were about to speak when you audibly threw up, vomit spraying all over the place. You clutched your still aching stomach as you coughed, trying to rid your throat of vomit. 
“Y/n! Are you okay? I’m gonna call the ambulance, try to stay awake!” The girl yelled through the phone, her voice clearly panicked.
You let out a loud groan as you let your body go limp, waiting for the suffering to end and the relief to begin. 
It was a couple of minutes later when the ambulance arrived. By that time, you were laying on the vomit covered floor unresponsive with a hand clutching your stomach. The EMTs quickly got you onto a backboard as they moved you toward the ambulance. The flashing lights of the ambulance was the last thing you saw before you completely lost all consciousness...
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genezpen · 2 years
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『 cruel 』
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pairings: seungkwan × gn!reader
genre: ANGST‼️i feel the need to hurt everyone right now 😈
summary: seungkwan told you that he used you to win a bet.
warnings: drama w/o plot, this a bit slightly quite painful and has a huge impact on me :'), crying, harsh!seungkwan, mention of parents neglecting the reader, reader speaking from trauma, mention of vernon, someone using the reader for a bet, rejection (?) (lmk if i missed something or if i made a mistake!)
word counts: 597
notes: this is a very short drabble to let y'all know that a short fic of han, and hoshi is coming. i've never had a free time since my last uploaded fic so i would like to apologize to the sitting requests on my ask! i promise im working on them! also, pls don't hate verkwan! love lots ^^ (our exam week is next week, wish me a luck!)
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“i never loved you.”
those exact words are enough to crush your wholeness. you almost hear your heart shattering on the pit of your stomach.
you felt bad. you are upset. you are disappointed.
the person you trusted the most just confessed that he fooled you. and for what?
“you're nothing but a bet. vernon lose, i won. now, it’s over.”
a bet. he won a bet. you are the bet.
and vernon? your bestfriend?
“what? aren't you mad at me? come on, y/n, hit me! i know you want to hurt me, too! i used you.” seungkwan grabbed your hand, forcing you to hit his hard chest.
but you're to numb to do so. as much as you want to show him how much it hurts you can die right now, you know physical pain wouldn't be enough.
he hit himself, he slap his cheek using your hand but you pulled it away. your eyes fixated on the ground while breathing fast, trying to stop your tears.
seungkwan then tried to find your line of vision but you keep avoiding it. not now. not when you're too fragile, too weak, too scared.
“come on, say something. lash out on me! i know you're upset—”
“i knew it...” your whispers made him shut up. something bitter spilled inside you. “i knew something was up the day you asked me out.” with shaking voice, you let it out.
even with a blurry eyes, you force yourself to meet his gaze only to see how shocked he was. seungkwan looked pale and his pupils were going back and forth on your eyes trying to find something you don't know of.
“don’t worry. i-i figured it out r-right away– you– i... knew this day would come.” you manage to utter those despite you choking on your own saliva and the nonstop tears.
you covered your face as you breakdown infront of seungkwan, shaking your head. so what if you look hopeless and pathetic right now? so what if he use this against you someday? so what if he makes fun of your misery right now. you don't want to think of the future at the moment. it hurts, it's killing you inside-out.
“you never actually like the cupcake i baked you, right? you never once liked my outfit every time we go out. you did not really want to say my 'i love yous' back, you just don't have a choice!”
fuck. this is a different kind of pain when your pet died in an accident. this is not the same pain you felt when your parents failed to recognize your academic success back in highschool. this pain is on another level. the one that could hold you back for years, again. the pain that brought you back to your thirteen year old self.
seungkwan did not say anything. he stood there frozen. you bet on your life, tomorrow everyone will turn their back on you. your colleagues will laugh at your situation. this has happened before, none of them was your friend, they were seungkwan’s.
no matter how hard it is to swallow, your only best friend, vernon, used you too.
you hate the universe for why must it be hard to live on earth. if you aren't allowed to feel loved then why must people hurt you? they could've just push you away, not stay for a short period of time just to leave you again. not pretend they accept you when in reality they are disgusted by you. why must everyone have to be so cruel?
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©genezpen
all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, plagiarize, repost to another platform/sites without my permission. this is solely available on tumblr.
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sanatomis · 4 months
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ੈ♡‧₊˚ ──── 𝐒𝐀𝐘 '𝐀𝐀𝐇'!
satoru is very determined to deep-throat your strap.
დ content. female!reader, use of strap-on (the words strap and cock are used interchangeably), sub!satoru x dom!reader, mommy kink, praise AND degredation kink, dacryphilia, satoru cums in his pants, mentions of pegging.
დ notes. im ovulating and wrote this in, like, a couple hours (which is SO fast for me) i'll probably be ashamed of it next week, but for now, enjoy <3
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Satoru has a rather unusual way of relaxing. His preferred method is one of two things: either he buries his face completely into your pussy until it blocks out all possible noise surrounding him, or he makes himself gag and heave around your strap until all he can worry about is figuring out a proper way to breathe. Both ways clear his mind instantly. 
For today, Satoru has chosen the latter. 
Seeing him on his knees isn’t a sight you will ever get tired of, and it’s hard to grow used to a scene when its main actor looks so fucking cute. With his pink lips slightly jutted outwards to form a small pout, and with his baby blues all big and doe-y, and his mouth—his ridiculously big, and loud mouth—wide open for you. A soft, steady hymn of ‘aah’ escapes him as he waits; signalling that he needs it filled. 
“Hm? What’s this?” You hum, a slightly mocking lilt to your voice. Gently, your hand cups his chin. It’s to make him look at you, to force him to look you in the eye while being so shameless. With your other hand, you teasingly prod the tip of the strap against Satoru’s lips, and earn yourself a soft whine in return. “You’re eager today, huh?” 
Nothing save for a hum escapes him. He sniffs, and opens his mouth again. It seems he’s a little disappointed you opted for teasing him, rather than inserting the fake cock the way he wants to. He doesn’t throw a fit, however. Not so much as a peep comes out of him, nor does he try to suck on your strap all by himself. He’s upset, but still surprisingly well-behaved. 
Ah. It clicks in your mind, then.
He wants to be your good boy tonight. 
How adorable.
“Oh, my sweet boy,” you coo, unable to withhold the urge to dote over him when the realisation sets in. It’s okay, though, Satoru thoroughly adores it when you do so. He does so now, as well. His entire posture stands up straighter as soon as the words of affection pass your lips, and he lets a sound of contentment slip when one of your hands tangles into his hair. “Well, when you act so politely, how could I ever deny you?”
Satoru lets out a shaky sigh filled with anticipation, and opens his mouth even wider when you tap your strap against his soft lips. He doesn’t engulf it entirely, and merely sticks to licking its length from the tip to base. His saliva coats the toy, and quickly turns it into a slippery mess. Satoru laps at the underside of the shaft, his breathing starting to turn irregular as he feels its weight on his face. He plays with it, indulges himself—but never makes a move to suck on it fully. And with good reason. 
“You’re so pretty, baby,” you tell him, and your words rush straight down south. Satoru takes a sharp intake of breath as he feels himself harden. You play with his hair while he continues to slobber all around your strap, and gently tug on it to pull him away from it. He blinks up at you, a dazed, far-away look in his eyes. On the verge of being entirely drunk on you. “But I think you’ll look even prettier with my cock in your mouth, don’t you agree?”
For he is only allowed to do so, when you tell him to. Satoru nods, and swallows deeply. His position on the ground makes it easy to look up at you. “Yes, I—Please,” he stutters, and shifts on his knees. The palms of his hands are sweaty, and he curls them into fists as if it’ll make the dampness disappear. He clears his throat. “I’ve gotten better, I—I can take it all the way this time, I know I can, I—Hmph!” 
Before he has a chance to realise it, Satoru’s mouth is nearly filled to the brim by your cock. He adapts quickly, the feeling having become second nature to him over time. He hums happily, gratefully, and a constant chorus of “thank you’s” graces your ears as he slowly but surely starts synchronising with your steady rhythm. Up, down, up, and down, and all over again. It’s slow, almost too slow, but Satoru knows you’re merely warming him up for what’s to come. His stomach flutters in excitement. 
“Mhm,” you hum, tangling your fingers in his snowy white hair. The faint slurping sound is all that either of you hear; that, and the loud gags and grunts from your dearest boyfriend as he tries his absolute best to suck you off. “S just what you need, isn’t it, baby? Having your mouth stuffed after a long day?” 
Satoru doesn’t show signs of response. He’s too occupied, too focused on the way your strap fills his mouth so perfectly. His spit is starting to drip down his chin, and he feels downright filthy, but if it were any different—he wouldn’t have nearly enjoyed it as much. He almost purrs when your digits start playing with his hair; almost, of course. 
Briefly, and hastily, you give his hair a harsh tug; it makes him whine sharply around the silicone toy. “I asked you something.” Your voice temporarily snaps him out of his daze, the strictness in it making his own cock impossibly harder. 
“M—Mhm!” Satoru hums quickly, giving a sign of acknowledgement. A sign of agreement. Because yes, this is what he needs after a long day. It’s all he’ll ever need. 
You’re lenient with him today, as his quickly-muttered mumble is deemed as enough for now. His head gets pushed down again, and your cock hits the back of his throat. You push down, and down, and down—and Satoru lets you; no, he revels in it. Tears start to form in his eyes as he, as well as you, start to drive him further and further down the base. He’s starting to have trouble breathing, but he doesn’t want to stop. 
None of your strap-ons, including the one he’s currently housing inside his mouth, are for beginners. And even though Satoru is far from a beginner, taking one from behind is infinitely easier for him than letting it glide all the way down his throat. This one in particular is so long, and so very thick. The corners of his mouth start to ache, and it feels as if the back of his throat is being abused—but still, he doesn’t stop. 
He can’t stop. Not after he assured you that he could take you fully. 
“There we go,” you say softly, your words of encouragement coming at the right time. He musters up some more strength, and wills himself to carry on. Your hand returns to the back of his head, but this time your touch is filled with delicateness. As if he is a porcelain doll that could break any second. It certainly feels that way at the moment. “You’re almost there, baby. Just a little further.” 
You don’t need to push his head down, for he goes all by himself. Satoru frowns, mouth full of cock, and tries his very best to take all of you. He goes down, and down again, and even further down—his gags increase, they appear closer together now and still he refuses to pull himself off. And so, it falls on you to do so. 
“Ngh!” A loud, petulant whine leaves his lips when you drag him away from your strap. Your fingers are tightly holding onto his hair, and you tug him backwards when he makes another attempt at sucking on the toy. The harsh administrations make him whimper, and Satoru’s eyes carry a sense of betrayal when he looks at you. “W—Why? Why did you. . .”
“Breathe,” you tell him sternly, and watch as his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat upon hearing your tone. He’s panting; clearly upset and rattled, and still so fucking turned-on. “As much as I adore watching you choke on my cock, I don’t want you to die from it.” 
Satoru grins. “It’d be a perfect way to go,” he says, and catches his breath while he can. The stupid, boyish smile that overtakes his pretty features is too charming for its own good—you fight it quickly by pulling on his hair again, and watch how it disappears and makes room for a wince instead. “Ah! O—Okay, okay.” 
“You depraved little thing,” you sneer at him, and smile at the whine he lets out. Your face nears his as you lean down, and you come to a halt right in front of it. “I’ll stop right now if I have to. Maybe I should. It’s clear you don’t have what it takes, after all.” 
Satoru’s eyes widen. “No! No! I—I can take it,” he pants, his previous defiance disappearing like snow underneath the sun. The mere prospect of being denied that which he so desperately wants is enough to subdue him. His thoughts are frazzled, and he’s all over the place, but one thing that he does know is that he needs to prove himself to you. “I’m sorry, don’t stop. I—I can do it, I swear!”
You fake a sigh of pity. “Can you, really? It doesn’t seem like it.” 
“No, I can! I promise, I can!” He stammers. It’s clear he’s quite frantic at the thought of disappointing you, especially when he set out to do the exact opposite of that. You sigh again; he’s so cute. His gag reflex is atrocious, but, oh, he tries so very hard. “I can show you! Yes, I’ll show you. Please, please, please, can I show you, mommy?”
“Hmph,” you hum, and lovingly wipe a tear from his cheek. You hadn’t realised just how badly Satoru wanted your approval. Him calling you mommy highlights his desperation for you, and brings it to the forefront—as it usually only pops up when he really, really wants something from you. “Alright, then. Go on, baby, show mommy how good you can take her cock.”
Your words don’t need to be repeated. Satoru wraps his lips around your strap as soon as you’ve given him permission to do so once again. It’s still slick with his spit, and slides past his lips and down his throat so very easily. Small, muffled chants of “thank you, mommy,” are spoken by him, as best as he can with a mouth full of dick that is. 
He’s still intensely focused on taking the entirety of your strap, though it seems his subconscious is still able to make time for other pressing matters. Satoru humps against your leg, seeking to stimulate his own cock while struggling to deep-throat yours. He’s so painfully hard—you can feel it, even through his pants. His tip is weeping, and it’s creating an obvious wet spot; the huge amount of pre-cum seeping through his boxers as well as the fabric of his pants. And all from sucking on your strap. 
“You’re making such a mess, ‘toru,” you comment, a hint of delight to be found in your voice. Because you are, in fact, absolutely delighted to witness him in such a state. He’s acting like a damn teenager; like a virgin who’s about to cum in his pants without ever having been touched. “S’okay if you wanna act like a slut, sweetheart, but you better clean it up later, okay?”
The moan he lets out at your words is downright sinful. Satoru nods rapidly, trying to tell you that he understands without having to take your strap out of his mouth. When it becomes clear that you’re not going to reprimand him for it, he diligently continues. His tongue circles the tip of the fake cock, and he briefly sucks on it extra harshly to satiate his own desires—and then, once again, he attempts to go all the way down. 
“A little further,” you coo, and continue pushing his head down your length. Satoru’s icy blue eyes remain focused on you, and you only—even when they fill to the brim with tears. “Almost there, my pretty baby.” 
He gags, and has to remind himself to breathe through his nose. Almost there. Almost there. Noticing his determination, you decide to throw him a bone; Your leg inches forward, and it allows him to grind himself against it properly. His weeping cock finally welcomes some much needed friction, and Satoru moans around your strap. The sound is muffled, and warped, and still it’s like music to your ears. 
“Just. . .a little more.” 
Satoru doesn’t know if he has it in him. He’s breathing heavily, and looks up at you with tears freely flowing down his cheeks now. This is too much. It’s too much, but it’s also not enough—and he also wants more. And you end up giving him exactly that, as you push his head down the final inch. 
A shiver goes down his spine when he realises, and a feeling of triumph settles within him; the entirety of your cock is in his mouth. His nose is near your pelvis, and it’s close enough to nudge against the black harness that you’re donned in. However, despite his dwindling air supply, Satoru still doesn’t move. He waits, and waits, and keeps your cock in the warm confinements of his throat. 
He waits, until you decide to give him what he so desperately craves. 
“There you go. Good boy, Satoru.”
The urge to unravel because of those words is too strong. The humping of your leg increases in rhythm, and his eyes start to roll back into his head. Satoru begins to choke around your length, and you quickly pull it out of his mouth because of that—the arrival of multiple telltale signs is enough to warn you about what’s to come. The toy connects to his lips through a string of saliva, and his back forms such a pretty arch for you when you hold him upright by his hair. 
“G—Gonna, ah, cum,” he pants, and another tear falls down his cheek. He musters all his strength to look you in the eye. “Can I? Can I c—cum? Please, mommy, mommy, mommy, I—Ngh! Please.”
“You can,” you tell him. The relief is instantly visible on his face. He blinks rapidly, a multitude of tears falling down his cheeks this time. This is often the case with Satoru; once he starts crying, he can’t seem to stop. It’s okay, though, as he looks so very pretty when he cries. “You deserve it, pretty. You did so well, I’m very proud of you. Go ahead and cum for me.”
Strangled whines, choked whimpers, and something akin to a sob leaves his lips as he finally allows himself to let go. He nearly doubles over, and you wrap your arms around him to hold him up. Satoru’s chest heaves rapidly as he cums, as his seed spills from the tip of his cock in thick, long ropes. It’s warm, it’s so very hot—and he has half a mind to feel embarrassed about the stain forming in his boxers. Half a mind only, as he’s more focused on recovering from such an intense high. 
His face rests on your thigh, and his fingers twitch at his side. Satoru pants, trying his very best to quickly catch his breath. The feeling of accomplishment washes over him; he’s so very happy that he made you proud. It makes the mess that clings to his body all worth it—a mess that’s present in more places than one, as both his face and pants must look ruined. 
“Now, get on the bed.” 
He freezes. Slowly, but surely, he brings his gaze back up to your face. There he blinks once, twice, and searches for any inkling that you might be joking. He finds none. 
You cup his cheek, and grin. “I think you deserve a reward. You’ve lubed mommy's cock so very well, after all. . .It’ll slide right in.” 
And despite his lack of recuperation, Satoru doesn’t need to be told twice.
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© MADE BY SANATOMIS — please, refrain from stealing, copying, or reposting any of my works.
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nhyckdcxx · 3 years
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Neighborhood
Characters: Vernon! x reader!neighbor
Genre: smut/fluff
Words: 2.008k
warning:unprotectedsex, blowjob, kitchensex, fingering,kinky,foreplay,riding,intimate
Summary: Vernon is your neighbor since you move into your new unit. You can always see him but never talked to him. An incident led you to ask for his help and casually having a thing that is not expected.
A/N: another memberxreader prompt piece I made. Inspired by the Attaca teaser photos I crazily thinksss. I cant sleep. Well, anyways hope u enjoy this one! ;))
————
It was weekend. You are already finishing all of your house chores and started to prepare for your dinner.
You went to check what it was, only to find out that your heater is broken.
"Oh.shit.. why is it now??ugh!." You groaned in frustration.
You immediately called the maintenance of your building but unfortunately, there is no maintenances at the moment that could assist you.
"The hell with this. What should i do?."
You called some of your friends, some of them didn't pick up. Well, its a weekend.. maybe that's why..
You suddenly remembered your neighbor. Youve been staying in that apartment for 6mos already, and yet you didnt have a chance to talk to him or greet him.
Should you ask him for help? Nah. Youre shy..
But then, the weather is really chilly. And without the heater, you might die in coldness.
"Nah, I have my last option, my mom."
You called and unfortunately, She's not at home. She went out of town with her bingo friends. You sighed.
You only have your neighbor as your last option. You mustered all your courage to ring his doorbell. You bought your dinner hoping that he wil let you in and eat him, with him..
You ringed the bell 2 times.. bit nervous..
He opened the door. He is in his pajamas. His top was unbuttoned. (same.as.the.picture.above.i forgot.the.exactwords.)
You were speechless. He was looking at you expressionless.
"uhm.. Hi. Im from unit 201, hehe." A bit nervous.
"Hi."
"uhm.. can I uhm.. have dinner here? Uh.."
"sure. Come in.." He said without hesitations. He acts like he knows what exactly you mean..
You both went inside his unit. His unit was fucking clean. It turned you on. He smells exactly the same as his room. So manly.. you suddenly became horny.
You immediately went to his kitchen. You heard him chuckled. Fuck?
"uhm. I brought some kimchi soup. You know.. h..hehe would you like some?." You genuinely offered it.
"Yes." You talk to each other like you already know each other.
"i..im y/n.. i forgot to introduce myself." You chuckled.
"Im Vernon." He answered.
"Hi Vernon! How long are you here in this apartment?." You asked trying to make the conversation longer.
"quite some time."
"Do you have a job? I mean.. i dont usually see you. H..hehe.."
"officeworker."
"ohh I see.. h..hehe." Youre out of questions now. How can you keep the conversation going?
"i like the soup." Vernon said.
"ohh.. ahaha.. Thank you. I just made this because its really cold outside. Im so glad you liked it.." You said. You now feel that the atmosphere is a bit light.
You finished eating and you fixed the table already. You are at the kitchen sink when you felt a presence. It was Vernon.
He suddenly came to you. "Uhm... I wanted to wash the plates.. can I wash---.."
Vernon suddenly kissed you. You can feel him pressing unto you..
He started to undress your top, and his hand caressing your breast. You liked it. You only know his name, and yet here you are, kissing him. Letting him strip you and cup your breast.
"uhm.. wait-- uhh Ver..non.. ahhhhhh---" You cant think straight anymore.. Youre immersed in this feeling already. The feeling of being fucked by a handsome and mysterious neighbor.
You like a man who knows how to take charge. You also like being nude in front of a man with half of his clothes on. A good beginning is important.
He suddenly carried you in a bride style..
"I just wanna fuck you so bad.. Im sorry it got me turned on." sincerly apologizing to you. but, you dont find it wierd. You find hot. It made you more horny.
Then he got naked. His penis was huge. He didn't seem to be in any hurry. You love being french kissed in the nude. This is like one of your fantasies. Vernon decided you'd love it even more while being finger fucked.
He started to move lower unto your inbetween legs. His tongue and fingers were in perfect sync.
"aahhhh--uhhhnggg.." You kept on moaning that made him turned on more.
As you became increasingly wet, his attention shifted to your fully erect nipples. You liked the sensation of his tongue expertly probing and flicking your pleasure cherries.
You're proud of your breasts, and appreciated his serious attempt to lick and suck the pink off your nipples.
"uhhhhhhhngg.. s..shit.. how can you be this good Vernon.. uhhhh.."
He didnt answer.
He backed away and re-situated his body between your legs. His cock was standing straight up. He lifted your left foot and he placed your toes to his face. He began licking each one like a special morsel, and then repeated the procedure with your right foot. This was fun.
Vernon is such an expert. You werent expecting that a mysterious boy can be this good in fucking.
You wanted to be fucked. He spread your legs and ate you out. You always liked being licked. He tongued you like a snake, slowly edging near and around the clitoris but never quite making contact. You moaned longingly as he brought me to the brink of release with pleasure surges that kept increasing in intensity.
"ahhhhhhh..uhhhhh..nggg.." You heard him moan and it made you hornier.
You begged.
Vernon inserted his finger into your pussy and then withdrew it, wet and glistening with your physical excitement.
He anointed your clitoris and licked it that made you arched your back in pleasure..
Vernon re-inserted his finger all the way in, and slowly withdrew it. This time he drew a moist trace of pussy juice from the top of the pubis and up the abdomen.
You sat up on your elbows to watch. This was a show you didn't want to miss.
He reintroduced his finger and slowly withdrew from the nectar well. Brushing past my clitoris, he again traced a liquid glory trail further up your abdomen, and into the navel.
"ahhhh..fuck..your pussy's so wet..y/n.." Vernon said while playing your juices.
He had found your secret fetish, your only secret shame, and you were in heaven.
You watched his fingernail lewdly wiggle it's way back and forth across the belly knot, producing a gloriously painful pleasure.
You're lipbiting. You raised your tummy for more exquisite love punishment. You relished the idea of having a stranger make your navel so sweetly sore and red, and Vernon's finger didn't disappoint.
"You have such a sexy belly button.." he purred.
You blushed. You really like it when someone notices it.
"You like it when I say belly button, don't you?"
You nodded.
"Tell me how much you like my finger in your belly button." Vernon said.
"I..i like it..."
"No-- say it..."
"I like your finger...in my.. b..belly button.." You murmured.
"Say it again louder like you mean it!! Where do you like my finger?"
You hesitated before obeying his command. You managed to raise your voice, this is the first time that you heard his real deep voice. but couldn't find the wherewithal to look him in the eye.
"I..in my belly button."
"That's right!" he sneered. "In your belly button!" He said.
As his finger continued to probe, You felt yourself literally dripping on the sheet below. Of all your past partners, no man had loved your tummy quite like Vernon.
When his nail finally found the core of the birth scar, it made you cum.
"ahhhhhhhhnggg..s..shit..ahhhh.. s..shit Ver..non..im cumming.. ahhhh.."
Your body quivered all the way down to your toes. You felt like a naked little girl who had touched herself impurely for the first time, and then realized her mother was watching.
The delicious mixture of pleasure and shame overwhelmed your senses.
Before your pleasure ebbed, his mouth was back and slobbering on your breasts. He was so excited, and you are so ready.
You spread your legs wide open in anticipation of being penetrated. His penis was not only long, but had plenty of girth. You beckoned him while fingering your clitoris.
"Such a slutty angel.. i love it.." He murmured.
"Please fuck me now Vernon.. Use me any way you like.. I want it so fucking bad.. I want your dick inside me.." pleading like a slut.
Instead, he placed your hand around his shaft, guiding it slowly up and down. Without any coaxing you placed your mouth on the head of his penis and ran your tongue lovingly around the well-defined ridge. The circumference seemed to go on forever. You paid special attention to the underside where the seminal vesicle attached.
You licked the penis slit, and tasted a tiny dew drop of his excitement. You licked it again, and waited. Another clear droplet of lubricant emerged which you smeared all over the head with your finger. It felt so slippery, sensuous and sexy.
"ahhhhhhh..shit..aaaaaahhnggg.." Vernon moaned.
You spread your legs. He carefully inserted the head of his penis into your pussy, which caused you to spread even wider. That amazing ridge and penis head worked it's way back and forth in an agonizingly slow tease.
"ahhhhhhh..uhhhhngggg..ahhhshit.."
Your fully stretched crack barely swallowed the tip of his amazing cock which he tantalizingly popped in and out of your vulva repeatedly. If you had not been so lubricated, it might have split you in two.
With slow measured thrusts he achieved full penetration. He was as hard as a rock, and stayed hard as a rock for what seemed an eternity. If you both had stood up, he could have anchored you onto that sweet appendage without your feet ever touching the ground. Oh your going to be so sore for the next week, and it was going to be so worth it.
Without missing a beat you both rolled over which left you on top to ride him rodeo-style. Vernon remained still while you did all the work. He placed his hands at your sides.
"ahhhh..ahhhhh..shit..ahhhhh.auhhhh.." You both moaned in pleasure.
"That's right.." He purred sweetly.
"Give me a show while I fuck you. Keep me nice and hard like a good belly dancer." He said.
He placed his thumbs on your nipples. "Your titties are so big, so pink, and so hard. A naughty little girl like you loves a good fucking, don't you? You're as randy as a dirty little whore. You want every bit of pleasure you can grab. You want to be fucked like a dirty, filthy little whore, don't you?"
That sounded sexy to you. Its true you wanted to fucked like a slutty whore.
"Yes...oh God..uhhhhh..yes!"
You worked your vagina up and down every inch of his amazing human club. Your insides were turning to jelly. You never had felt so possessed in your life. A lightning bolt of pleasure surged through you, and repeated four or five times in rapid succession. You began to shake. Each surge brought on a new level of rapture. You could hardly catch your breath as he thoroughly stoked the needs of your sexual furnace. You fell back in surrender as he finished me off.
Both satisfied.
He slowly pulled out, still hard, and christened your belly button with his remaining seed. The sight re-ignited your arousal.
He slowly daubed his middle finger in the ejaculate pool, and coated your nipples with semen. He then lapped up semen with his index finger, and without warning, stuck it in your rectum.
Before you could fully react, the tip of his tongue lapped the tip of your clitoris like a parched dog. Your entire body clenched as you cried out in blissful agony,
"Oh.. ahhh..shit..that is so fucking nasty!"
You squirted in his face; once.. twice... three times.
He closed his eyes, and didn't move a muscle.
"I wish, you wouldnt hate me for this.." Vernon said.. You shushed him. You cant blame him thou.. You liked it too. Its just that the Vernon that you are expecting is a shy and nerdy one. It turns out, its the different one.
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kechiwrites · 4 years
Text
spit or swallow
Dentist!Eijirou Kirishima x Patient!Reader
wc: 1.5k
“he works diligently above you, latex gloved hands occasionally brushing your nose, jaw and throat. He’s nothing less than gentle with you, angling your face where he needs it with feather soft touches and honey smooth direction.”
warnings: afab reader, fantasizing about your dentist, a lil bit of praise kink, biting, oral sex, size kink if you squint, swearing, dick slapping but like make it tender, we’re light on warnings today y’all, 18+ 
author’s notes: kirishima....thank u to my lovely betas @lady-bakuhoe​ and @rivendell101​ yes i kept the arm hair thing in, im a simp ♡.
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There is absolutely nothing sexy about being a dentist. The visual of Dr. Kirishima up to his elbows in spit and god know what else is hardly erotic. But there’s very little you can do to stop the shivers that tingle down your spine at the sight of his bare forearms, revealed to you by the careful and precise folding of his doctor’s coat, dusted with fine black hair and corded with muscle when they reach over your face to adjust the light or peer at your x-rays. Your tongue is still thick and sweet in your mouth from the liquid he'd given to you in a little blue cup. The taste was just barely spearmint and you wish you could chase it with the sharp tang of his sweat. You wish you could wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down to you, bite and kiss and suck at the skin under his jaw you're becoming so familiar with. You want to create a flush so deep you find it blooming over his skin when you undo the little white plastic buttons of his dress shirt.
While you're musing, he works diligently above you, latex gloved hands occasionally brushing your nose, jaw and throat. He’s nothing less than gentle with you, angling your face where he needs it with feather soft touches and honey smooth direction. You get the distinct impression he’s a mellow guy, tossing easy smiles to anyone who meets his eye and he certainly doesn’t seem very intimidating. Even still, you can't help but think about the stretch. There's not a doubt in your mind that Eijirou Kirishima D.D.S. is packing like he's on a two month vacation. His shoulders are impossibly broad and when he escorted you through the bleach white hallway all you could think of was letting him loom over you and drag the heavy weight of his weeping cock up and down the plush skin of your face. You wish he would push past the softness of your lips and urge your head further and further down his length until the tip of his dick touches your fucking brain. You want him to spread your pussy open between latex covered thumbs and bury his tongue in you, let his unnervingly sharp teeth catch the hood of your clit.
You want him to hurt you.
You’re lost in the visual of his hands around your throat when he calls your name, trying to get you to angle your chin just a bit further downward. When you finally comply, he whispers “Good girl” and it takes every single bit of your self restraint to stop yourself from whimpering at the image the phrase conjures. You screw your eyes shut and behind your lids, Dr. Kirishima is holding you against the padded chair by the back of your neck, sinking his teeth into the exposed skin of your shoulder, hip, thigh, leaving aching, perfect half circles in their wake. He keeps you in place with one hand, and presses his cock against the throbbing heat of your cunt, not quite hard enough to enter, not yet. Instead he’s content to tease you into begging for it. And you do, you pant out platitudes and pleas for more until he blankets your body with his own, weighing you down as he pushes into you, fucking deeper and deeper until your slick covers both of your thighs. He fucks you with four fingers in your mouth, pushing down on your tongue while he calls you his favourite patient. His perfect patient.
“Am I hurting you?” You open your eyes in an instant, and the dentist is hovering above you, eyebrows furrowed with concern. You aren’t even sure how long your eyes have been closed, but the light overhead stings a bit and you blink owlishly before speaking.
I fucking wish.
“No, no I’m fine.” You steeple your hands together in your lap and try to shake off the reverie.
“Great, well we’re all done here,” he pulls his mask down to hang around his neck and blinds you with a beaming smile, before you can even feel guilty, the dentist spins around in his bone white office chair, rummaging in a shelf before coming back to you, with two closed fists held up for your choosing.
“Pick one.” When you can only respond with a confused tilt of the head he explains, “A treat for my favourite patient. I know you aren’t exactly lollipop age but…” Dr. Kirishima continues to speak but the sound of his voice is drowned out by the roaring in your ears. You interrupt him mid-sentence and tap your hand against his left and he opens his wide palm with a flourish to reveal a bright yellow sugar free wrapped candy and a packet of floss with a smiley little cartoon tooth emblazoned on the front.
You aren’t quite sure how, but you know it’s mocking you.
You take the gifts from his hand, trying hard to ignore the feeling of your fingertips dragging against his open palm. There’s maybe one hundred filthy thoughts slamming against the walls of your skull produced by the feel of his skin against yours, and honestly you’re just thankful they’re not readable in your eyes or pouring out of your fucking ears. You clear your throat and do your best to smile at Dr. Kirishima, swivelling in the dentist chair to place your feet back on the ground once he scoots back enough for you to stand. You gather your bag and coat while he rattles off what you need to remember; “easy on the sugar, red wine and coffee, brush twice a day, floss as often as you can, etc.” With the dentist now out of your immediate line of sight you can force yourself to calm down. Your heart rate finally returns to a steady pulse in your chest and a centering deep breath brings you back down the rest of the way. While you shove your hands into your coat pockets to check that your essentials are all accounted for, you can hear Dr. Kirishima quietly issue directions to the waiting dental assistant in the hallway. Finally back in your right mind, you turn with your things in hand to thank your dentist, half relieved and half disappointed to be leaving his close quarters, only to slam bodily into the hard planes of his chest beneath his thin dress shirt.
You stumble backwards and it’s the quick movement of Dr. Kirishima’s hands (one cemented around your forearm and the other on your hip) that stops you from colliding with his tray of instruments.
“Are you alright?” He questions you, palms iron hot against your skin, even through your clothes. His voice is just a bit too loud for how close you are to each other, and you shift backwards in his hold to look into his eyes. In the shuffle, you’d pressed both of your, embarrassingly, sweaty hands against his shoulders, one of them fisted tightly in the lapel of his doctor’s coat. Still, even as you blabber assurances to him looming above you, neither of you move to let go, opting instead to remain stock still, as though the slightest disruption could make your position any more inappropriate than it already was.
Kirishima’s hand tightens on your hip just the tiniest bit and when he opens his mouth to speak to you, your gaze focuses on the exceptionally vicious point of his canines. You force yourself to meet his eyes again, just fast enough to catch him staring at your lips, parted in surprise at the collision.
Slowly, as if approaching a frightened animal, Kirishima draws closer to you, and for a second you think he’ll kiss you, but instead his cheek brushes over yours, lips meeting the curve of your ear, warm breath rushing against your skin, eliciting full body shivers. The grip you have on his shirt turns to iron and you urge him closer, narrowing the minimal space between you until your chest is pressed so firmly against his.
“I-”
Whatever he was going to say is cut short by the sound of the office door swinging open, heralding the dental assistant’s return. Thankfully, Kirishima’s assistant has their eyes on their clipboard, addressing you by your last name and rattling off the best date for your next cleaning. While their attention is split you force space between yourself and the man holding you. When they do finally raise their eyes, looking for confirmation, you bob your head in agreement, hoping to god they’d give you a form, or receipt or anything to remind you of the details currently being divulged only to be drowned out by the thud of your own heartbeat.
“I’d actually like for her to come in earlier, if possible, we didn’t get the chance to do a polishing today.”
Both you and the assistant blink at the doctor, and slowly his cheeks redden under your stare.
“If that’s alright with you?” He coughs, folding his arms over his chest.
It takes you a second to understand what’s going on but when you do, it snaps your willpower in half.
“Next week then! I’ve got time, if you do.” You reply and Dr. Kirishima’s answering smile is blinding in the best way.
“Sounds perfect.”
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writing-in-april · 3 years
Text
Cinematic Coincidences
Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader
(Spencer’s POV)- listen I just love his POV lol
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Summary: Spencer can’t bring himself to go on another date that’s been set up for him- so he stands his date up. Spence seemingly can’t catch a break and runs into the date he stood up.
A/N: Hey heyyy- here’s my seventh fic for my 30 fics in 30 days for April!! This one was requested by @andiebeaword (I added a reference for your love of hallmark movies in this hehe)- this is the original request- I tweaked the characters involved just a small bit lol I accidentally end up defaulting to using the people on the dream team lol- im going to start working in later characters in the show into some stuff in upcoming works (I’m also rewatching the later seasons so that’ll help get me inspired) Im always looking for feedback on my fics or really to talk about anything with my followers so feel free to drop into my inbox- here!! Thanks for reading- y’all have been so sweet 🥰 and hope y’all enjoy!!
Warnings: Insecure Spencer, Getting stood up for on a date, Morgan and Garcia (just the team in general) not really understanding Spencer fully, one tiny sexual innuendo- I think that’s it nothing too bad this time around
Main Masterlist Word Count: 2.4K
This was not what I wanted to be doing today. Garcia had once again inquired about my love life- along with Morgan of course, wanting to find out about all the juicy details. I didn’t know why they continued to ask when it was obvious that my love life was about as exciting as watching paint dry.
I gave my normal response to these types of inquiries, brushing them off without sounding too hurtful. Unfortunately Garcia would not be satiated by my response, apparently she was now fed up with my dull love life and felt like she needed to be personally involved. Garcia was very near and dear to me, just like Morgan, but I couldn’t deny that this grated my nerves.
“We’ll make you a dating profile too! Maybe you’ll find someone cute to date- or maybe get some?!” Garcia was chipper as usual, with her eyebrows wiggling at her suggestion that I should have a one night stand. All that I felt from her words was dread.
The dangers of online dating swirled in my mind and I tried to protest, it came out more like a stammer though. Morgan then patted me on the back and piped up, giving his own opinion, “Yeah- I think it’ll be good for you, pretty boy.”
Again I wanted to protest, beginning to stammer out another reason why I didn’t think it was a good idea. I sighed heavily when I was cut off again, by Morgan and Garcia already planning on what pictures they were going to upload of me. At least I knew that they had my best interests at heart, they wanted me to be happy with someone- or get some like Garcia had mentioned earlier. Still, it didn’t change the fact that there was no way I’d ever want to go willingly on a date with someone I had met on the internet.
—-
My thoughts had not changed since Morgan and Garcia had set up the dating profile for me. There hadn’t been any person I had been on a date with that had successfully been able to keep me interested beyond a few conversations.
“No luck with the online dating?” Morgan had teased when I had walked in with my head held low. This endeavor was just making me realize how picky and undesirable I was. Why couldn’t I just find someone pretty and be happy with it?
Morgan’s face twisted from a smile into a frown when I didn’t answer him, making my way silently to my desk.
For the rest of the day the team tiptoed around me, sensing my sadness. There was part of me that was angry at them for thinking that I couldn’t handle a few bad dates. But, they were right. I couldn’t handle the sting of rejection or the disappointment of a date that didn’t live up to my expectations.
Emily always seemed to know how to cheer me up, so I did attempt some small conversation in the break room while we were both getting our coffee. She never gave me any pity like the others who just flashed me sad looks, unwilling to make any effort to help- or like Garcia and Morgan, they helped in the wrong way even if their intentions were pure.
Her solution to my problem did make my ears perk up a bit, “Hey- I saw that you’ve been down and that it’s been about the online dating Morgan and Garcia made you get into.” I nodded my head in confirmation then gesturing for her to continue while I poured copious amounts of sugar into my drink. Emily opted for mostly cream instead of sugar, stirring her coffee a little, then continuing her thought,”I wondered how you would feel about being set up on a blind date. It’s someone I know so maybe that would make you feel better about going on it? Instead of having to deal with technology that I know you despise.”
Emily had a way of seeing exactly how I was feeling and not just spitting out facts without solutions like the others. Her solution made me nervous of course, there would probably never be a date that I wouldn’t be nervous for. However, this option made me feel a little bit more hopeful about my prospects in the dating pool. It was someone that she knew and trusted enough to suggest them as a potential match for a coworker. Emily didn’t trust easy, I could trust her judgment on this despite my nerves.
I gulped down a large sip of my overly sweetened coffee, collecting my thoughts before then answering, “Alright- I’ll go.”
The date that I was supposed to go on was at a quaint cafe near work. Emily had even made the effort to make sure that I had been there before so I might be more comfortable.
At first I had been extremely excited for the date, even going so far as to pick out my outfit. I would have worn my purple button up, that was the one I got the most compliments in. Emily had told me some stuff that my date was interested in so I made sure to brush up on my knowledge by reading about the topics. I had even called back to the restaurant menu in my mind, preparing myself by picking out what I wanted beforehand. On one of my dates set up through the dating app I had stumbled on my choice for food, making the person unnecessarily snappy. I had to cover all my bases to minimize potential awkwardness on my part.
Self doubt began to creep in after I had gotten fully dressed. I had gotten ready way too early in anticipation for the date, now sitting on my couch tapping my foot impatiently. I looked at my watch that sat over my long sleeves watching the clock tick closer and closed to when I was supposed to leave.
Biting my lip in worry, my mind couldn’t help but wander over into my self doubts. I couldn’t help but ask myself why anyone would want to date someone as tall and lanky as me- or why would someone want to go on a date with someone that couldn’t keep their mouth shut about random topics that no one cared about.
My self doubt swallowed any confidence that I had begun to build up in preparation for the date. I knew Emily would be furious with me tomorrow when I went into work, I didn’t want her to find out through her friend though. Deciding to get it over with I pulled out the phone I never used and texted her, telling her that I wasn’t coming. I told her to give my regrets to my date, who at this point was probably waiting patiently for me at the cafe. Sighing in defeat I then retreated into my bedroom again, crawling under my covers.
——
Emily hadn’t been furious with me- well that was a lie, at first she had stomped up to me the next morning to chew me out. She became more disappointed than anything when she found out my reasonings. She hadn’t mentioned anything about how the person I was supposed to be going on the blind date with felt. Not that I really wanted to hear about it, it would only make me feel worse. All I got from her was a small remark mumbled under her breath, “Idiots- the both of you…”
For the next few weeks I tried in vain to push thoughts of my failed blind date out of my head. I had avoided going in the general direction of the cafe. Luckily I took the metro everyday to work otherwise I’d have to drive by it every day, and I already hated driving.
I was at the bookstore for used booksjust around the corner from the cafe that was supposed to hold my date a few weeks ago. This was the closest I dared to go near it in a while. Since then I hadn’t been able to go there anymore, even though I loved the coffee there. Immense guilt had wormed its way into my brain when I had tried to order something there a week ago. All I had done was stammer at the cashier before bolting out of there, just another addition on the list of embarrassing things that I’ve done in my life.
I was flipping through an old edition of pride and prejudice out of boredom, there hadn’t been anything interesting stocked on the shelves since I had last been here. Then a voice piped up through the air that had a bit of dust flying through it,
“Excuse me, sir- if you’re still looking at that book would you mind if I looked at the ones on the shelf behind you?”
It took me a second before I realized the person was talking to me. I then removed my eyes from the book to blink up at them a few times, then registering what they had said to me and moved out of the way.
Their eyes were still glued to mine, the bookshelf behind me that they had wanted to look at forgotten. An awkward chuckle was all we both could seem to manage as we looked each other up and down. Emily had shown me a picture on her phone of my date so I would have been able to spot them at the restaurant. My cheeks flushed hard once I realized who was standing before me. There was no doubt who this was, the date I had stood up the night before.
Silence then fell between us and not the pleasant kind, it was most definitely awkward. I couldn’t imagine how they must have been feeling after I hadn’t shown up last night. They probably had sat
“Um- hi…” They spoke hesitantly, wringing their fingers in trepidation. My jaw opened and closed a few times, trying to come up with anything to say.
“Hi!” Was all I could manage to squeak out, plus a small wave in their direction.
They wrung their fingers a few more times, seemingly trying to come up with a response. I was surprised they hadn’t hit me with one of the books near them out of anger. It would be a normal response to being stood up for a date, the trepidation and silence just served to unnerve me further. Eventually they spoke again, saving me from anymore awkward silence which in my opinion was worse than awkward conversation, “Um- sorry for um, standing you up uh- a few weeks ago.”
That made my eyes bug out of my head- they had done the exact same thing as I had? Insecurity soon swept in, trying to tell me exactly why they had not shown up without hearing their side of the story. I looked down at the book I was holding, reading a few words for a moment of reprieve. Taking a deep breath I asked quietly, not admitting to my own faults yet, “W-why did you um- not go? If you don’t mind me asking…”
A deep sigh was what I got at first, one that obviously had a lot of stress in it. They then did provide me with an explanation, despite their obvious embarrassment, Well- It had nothing to do with you- a simple explanation would be saying it was my insecurity’s fault.”
Not that I would ever want anyone to feel insecure, but I would admit that them saying that did make my own stress melt away. They had not gone for almost the exact same reasons that me. I decided to be upfront, giving them my own reasoning- though I wasn’t even sure they realized that I hadn’t gone as well. “I don’t know if Emily told you, but I um- stood you up as well. It wasn’t because of anything bad! It was really for the same reason as you.”
They then broke out into giggles after they had processed my words for a second, which were much more relaxed than the awkward ones from before. I didn’t blame them, it was a pretty funny coincidence that we’d both stand each other up only to run into each other not knowing what we had done.
“I feel like we’re in one of those cheesy Hallmark movies right now…” Their comparison only confused me, I had no clue what they were talking about.
“What’s a Hallmark movie?” More giggles came from them at my questioning, though for once I didn’t feel like I was being laughed at. I felt like they were laughing at the whole situation, not at me specifically like so many people had often done. Also, I couldn’t help but admit to myself that their giggle was very cute.
Once their giggles had subsided a little they asked me something that almost no one would ask the person that had stood them up, “Maybe I could tell you over a coffee? If you want to of course- Emily told me about how much sugar you like in it.”
My interest was peaked, making me further regret having stood them up in the first place. Though I tried to push that thought out of the way considering we had both done the same thing. It was time to let that go so I could go on a date with them finally. Seeing them in person and being able to glimpse part of their personality made me want to know more.
“Alright- sure.” I set down the book I had been passively reading, now completely disinterested in it. There was something far more interesting in front of me now compared to a classic book I had read over ten times.
We both walked around the corner, to the cafe that we had originally had our date scheduled at. Conversation flowed easily between us, showing me that Emily had been totally right to set us up initially. Her words now made sense to me, we were both a couple of idiots.
We then got our coffee, which had been much smoother of a transaction compared to the last time I had been here. I took note of how much sugar and cream they liked, just in case we were going to do this again. Sitting down at the closest booth I then asked, “So tell me about Hallmark movies?”
Ask Me Anything
—-
Tag lists (Message me if you want to be added):
All works: @shotarosleftpinky @oreogutz @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg @takeyourleap-of-faith 😡😡😡
All MGG characters: @muffin-cup @willowrose99
Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes @onlyhereforthefanfics @jareauswifey
193 notes · View notes
docholligay · 3 years
Note
Tracer/Emily “on a scar”
Talk about stuff I've meant to write for ages, this moment is finally out in the world. ANYWAY THANK YOU 1600ish words, all of my OW universe is here.
Tracer kissed her shoulder.
It should have felt good. She wanted it to feel good. She was incredibly attracted to Tracer, who had been a perfect lady over the past few weeks. Tracer, who was handsome and charming and gallant, who had treated her to dinner and walks in the park and made her laugh with all her stories, brought her flowers and told her she looked wonderful in purple, who had never invited herself up even though her eyes clearly wanted to be invited up.
But instead, there was a sort of deep grim that lapped at the corner of her mind. Emily was not good with women. She wasn’t good with anyone really, over the age of six, she thought, quiet and shy and awkward, the way she’s been all of her life. She wanted this, and she was afraid of it. She was not a casual person. Sometimes she wished she were.
The hard part, for Emily, was knowing when to tell someone. When she had been younger, it had been easy to blame her being trans for every ounce of hesitation she felt in a public setting, for every stumble through a conversation, and every bad date where her calls were never returned. It some ways, it had made things easier, to know that there was an immutable reason for such things, but life is rarely so kind, and she had met so many other women like her who glittered and had full dance cards, who lived life loudly.
So her own hated timidness had to, at least in some capacity, be an organic consequence of being Emily McNair, rather than anything else. It was disappointing.
But because she was Emily McNair, and because she had no idea of what it meant to be casual, and because she, like the silly fool that she was, was dangerously close to being truly in love with Tracer, she had to tell her. She wanted to tell her. Because if she was going to love Tracer, she had to know that Tracer could love all of her, even her history.
She tried not to expect too much of people in that vein.
“Em?” Tracer pulled away from her, ‘Can’t ‘elp but notice you don’t seem particularly engaged. You,” she seemed disappointed, “you not want to?”
“Oh, Lena, I do, but it’s only..” She tucked her hair behind her ear, “I have to speak to you, first.”
Her eyes darted around the room. “What ‘ave I done? Or not done?”
“No, no, of course no. It’s only me.”
“Alright. All ears.”
Emily was sure there had to be a perfect way of doing this, but over the twenty odd years of her life, she had never quite found it. Words were, most people would agree, not Emily’s strong suit, and generally she was as content to listen to others talk as they were. The handful of times she had gotten far enough to want to tell someone, it had never come out the way she’d imagined, and as Tracer looked at her, she realized that new and better speech she kept planning wasn’t going to reveal itself this time either.
“I’m trans. I just--thought you should know, before.” She swallowed and looked off to the side, waiting.
Tracer rocked back on her heels and looked at Emily.
“Is that all? Doesn’t matter, I don’t care about that,” she stopped for a moment, “Sorry. You know,” she tilted her head quickly and leaned forward, trying to put herself back into Emily’s gaze, “it’s just now occurred to me why me Dad put it that way when I told ‘im I was gay, can’t really think of a better way to say it--suppose it didn’t urt that ‘e wasn’t the slightest bit surprised by the news--but wasn’t helpful to me then either.” She took Emily’s hand. “Thank you for telling me. I feel all the same about you as I did. I think you are absolutely beautiful, and I cannot believe me luck, sitting on the sofa with you. You ‘ave no reason to be shy with me. Still buzzing about being invited up, love.”
Emily let her shoulders relax a little. “I’m shy with everyone.”
“I ‘ope sincerely that it’s not that people ‘ave been cruel to you.”
“Not, I think I’m just a bit awkward, I mean,” Emily shook her head. “Most people haven’t known since I left school. But I don’t much,” she fiddled with the strap of her dress, “you know, see women.”
Tracer smiled. “Right. Let me show you something.”
She slipped her shirt off under her CA with a speed and grace Emily would not have guessed was possible, leaving only her CA and a sports bra. The first thing she noticed were the bright toucans on Tracer’s bra. The second thing she noticed was that Tracer was as spectacularly toned as she might have guessed given her quick strength, and she blushed.
The third thing she noticed were two deep and heavily puckered scars, right at the edge of her rib cage. Her eyes widened and she brought a hand to her mouth, without thinking, and then immediately realized Tracer must be seeing her, after being so kind to Emily, showing shock, and she might think it was disgust--
But Tracer gave that loud peal of a laugh that Emily loved so much. “I know! Terrible, innit? Man shot me.” She scowled a moment. “Thought ‘e was me friend, once upon a time, but ‘e did disabuse me of that notion, as Fareeha put it, you know, love, for all the times she pretends she doesn’t understand a bloody thing I’m saying she manages to put up quite the English vocabulary when it suits her, right? Right, absolute tosh--listen to me waffling on, me Dad always said I could talk for England--what I mean is, love, you ain’t the only one with a thing or two unusual. Say nothing about the machinery. I’m loads of things to get used to, right? So you and I are of a kind. Me more than you, even, ‘ave no doubt you look better with your clothes off than me, if you don’t mind me saying so, right? So you never need be shy with me, for I’ll always do me best. I ‘ave no doubt that I will say or do something unbelievably bloody stupid, and when that happens, I want you to say, ‘Lena, you bloody stupid cunt,” Emily laughed and shook her head, “--No love, I’m being very serious just now--Lena, don’t do that” and then I won’t.”
Emily looked at her. Tracer’s eyes were bright and sparkling, but full of sincerity. Even now, she had that little resting smile on her face that Emily had come to realize just sat there, as unhappiness did on others. There was something about Tracer that drew Emily in, that made her feel safe, and suddenly it felt true, that someone like Tracer could not mind. Suddenly it seemed silly to Emily that anyone had ever minded at all. She had so many explanations planned out, ways to make it okay for Tracer and assure her that there wasn’t much different about Emily, but it all seemed completely unnecessary in the moment.
She had been honest, when she said she didn’t care.
Emily reached her hand out and brushed her fingertips against the deep crater on Tracer’s stomach, and Tracer did not flinch away from her touch, even for a moment.
“It must have hurt terribly.”
Tracer shook her head. “You know, actually, I lost a great deal of blood very quickly, which doesn’t necessarily recommend itself but I will say made the pain a bit of a non-issue.” She laughed again. “Honestly, Winston’s more traumatized by it than I am, I only remember little bits of the thing. Lost some of me liver though, and I am sore about that, as I make quite a bit of use of it,” she looked down, “ as you can see by the fact that I lack a bit in the definition department.”
“You’re very handsome, Lena.” Emily said, still looking at the scar, unable to look Tracer in the eye when she said it.
“Well, you’re kind to say so.” Tracer put her hand on top of Emily’s. “I still am keen to root about the cabbages, so to speak, and I want you to know I won’t be put off so easily in future,” she grinned, “but if you’d rather not tonight, I understand that, as well.”
“Oh, but I don’t want you to go!”
Tracer took Emily by the shoulders. “I can stay then, love. ‘Appy to ‘ear it. Can stay all night, if you like. But we don’t ‘ave to do nothing.”
Emily leaned forward and put her head on Tracer’s shoulder, letting herself fall into her embrace. Tracer kissed her forehead.
“We can stay just like this, love.”
I love you, she wanted to say, I love you, and I feel excited and happy and utterly terrified at the fact. But, she reasoned, she had tripped over her own tongue enough for one evening, and in this moment, she thought she would have plenty of other chances. Tracer would stay. She kissed Tracer’s cheek and settled into her arms as Tracer laid back against the couch.
“You know, the scars aren’t even the worst of it, with me. ‘Ardware neither.”
“Oh?”
“Right, there’s the entirety of me personality to deal with, as well. Messy. Can’t pay attention to save me own life, sometimes quite literally, depending on who you ask. Touch of P--well, honestly, just ask Fareeha, when you meet her, she’s got a list of me negative qualities, I think. Probably alphabetized. Maybe categorical.”
Emily felt herself melt into Tracer and allowed herself the joy of a laugh.
The cool wind of October shook the trees outside, and litter blew along the street next to her shabby little London flat, and Emily had never been happier.
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fweasleyswhore · 4 years
Text
Missing You - R.L.
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based on this old ass request i realized i never did OOPS im so sorry
tags: @fredshmeasley @pandaxnienke
summary: Remus gets called out on a mission and after a night of passion and reader finds out they are pregnant while he is gone. 
word count: 2k
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I stood behind him with my hands on his shoulders as he unwrapped the letter with shaky hands. He pulled the letter closer to his face, I played with his hair as he read the letter out of my view. Twirling the short brown hair at the nape of his neck I listened as he let out a sigh. Watching his hands as he twirled the letter in his hands before setting it down on the table, it immediately caught on fire. We watched in silence as it burst into flames, leaving a small pile of ash in its place. I moved from where I was standing, cleaning up the ash and discarding it. 
Remus didn’t move. Walking on tentative feet I stood in front of him. 
“Remus? What did it say?” I asked softly. He looked up, his eyes were glassy and his usual smile was missing. 
“We have another mission and, this one might, it’s going to be a long one.” His eyes didn’t meet me as he spoke, I reached out grabbing his hands. When his eyes found mine I saw how upset he was, I felt it too. Our three year anniversary was in two weeks, we had plans for a small dinner. I hid my disappointment and smiled shallowly. 
“Hey, it’s ok. The Order is important too.” He nodded and looked back down at our hands. 
“I don’t like leaving you in the dark, I don’t like living this uncertainty.” He swallowed thickly and squeezed my hand. “I’m sorry.” It barely came out as a whisper but I registered it. 
Kneeling in front of him I pulled my hand up to brush the tears away. His lips pressed into a thin line, eyes shut as he leaned into my touch. “Don’t apologize, Remus, you are doing what’s necessary, because of you we are going to get out of this.” He nodded but I knew he still felt guilty, the weight of my words nothing to the weight of his insecurity and racing thoughts. “Think about it a couple of years from now, when it’s safe, and you and me have a family, a couple of kids.” I watched as his face transformed from a pained expression into a happy one. 
“A couple?” He mused with a growing grin. I beamed up at him nodding eagerly. 
“When do you leave?” My voice was a lot quieter than it was seconds earlier, but I needed to know. 
“Tomorrow morning, we meet at an arranged place quarter after 6.” His words were slow and calculated and he gaged my expression, I made sure not to show the disappointment on my face. 
“I guess we better enjoy tonight then.” I quipped. He looked down at me with adoration, smiling through his pain. He let go of my hand, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on my head. I blushed at the small action, looking at him through my eyelashes I watched him. His hand cupped my cheek, the other brushed some hair away from my face. 
“I would like that darling.” I smiled and leaned into him, running my hands up his thighs as our lips connected. I danced my hand across his crotch and felt him groan into my mouth. Smiling, I continued to drag my fingers in a feather-light touch up and down his legs as our lips brushed together. 
I started to apply more pressure as I palmed him through his trousers causing him to pull away with heavy breaths. I looked up at him through my eyelashes not halting my movements as he looked at me hungrily. 
“Bedroom, now.” I shivered at his words, feeling excitement and arousal in my stomach, he let his more dominant side take over in the bedroom, it wasn’t a conscious decision but it was one I loved so much. 
On shaky legs I stood up, breaking eye contact with him when I turned, purposefully pausing and swaying my hips lightly before walking down the hall that led to our bedroom. 
“Let me write a response and then you have my full attention, I’ll be quick darling, wait for me.” He called after me. I tried to continue to push on towards the bedroom but I stopped letting the excitement take hold of my body. Turning over my shoulder I saw him, leaning back in his chair taking me in. 
“Hurry.” My voice was barely above a whisper but I knew he heard it so I turned back and walked to the bedroom. I tried not to be too hasty and let the excitement show but I would lie if I wasn’t saying there wasn’t a definite pep in my step. 
Making it to the bedroom I gently shut the door and ran a hand through my hair. An idea popped in my head as I began to strip. I sauntered over to the closet and pulled out a small black box, around the size of a shoebox. I pulled out a small piece of lingerie that I bought to use for the night of our anniversary. It was white and lacy, a bra, panties, and garter belt with two lacy garters included. Excitedly I squealed a little while I slipped off my clothes and slid into them. Still wanting to surprise him I grabbed one of his sweaters and pulled it over my head, it came down to my middle thighs, effectively hiding the garters. Smiling to myself I threw the bag away and sat down on the bed, I bobbed lightly due to throwing myself down on it so hard. I played with my hands while I waited for him to meet me in the bedroom. I dragged my nails up and down my thighs in anticipation, shivering slightly at the action trying to hold myself together. 
Soon enough I heard his quiet padding towards the door and my breathing sped up as I saw him walk through the door. He racked his eyes up and down my body, I watched his eyes as they took me in, crossing my legs and leaning back onto my elbows I spoke softly. “I was hoping you would do much more than look.” 
“Is that so darling?” He pushed himself off the doorframe where he was positioned, walking over to me like a predator would prey, his hands found my hips as he leaned down next to my ear. “In that case-” He cut himself off, pulling his sweater up my thighs he caught sight of my garters. He sucked in a deep breath, pulling the sweater higher he caught sight of the matching panties and I watched as his pupils dilated. 
“I bought them for our anniversary, but, figured now might be just as good,” I whispered a light laugh in my tone to hide the pain I felt realizing he would be gone. 
“You’re perfect.” Before I had time to thank him, much less process the words, his lips were on mine. The kiss was beautiful, passionate, slow, and methodical. Nudging his jaw forward he pushed me back onto the bed, I fell down and he followed, our lips never separating. He made quick work to rid me of my sweater pulling it of my head and throwing it across the room. 
He let out a long groan seeing the matching bra and was quick to rip it off of me. 
“You look so good in white,” He whispered whilst attacking my neck and chest with his mouth, leaving an array of marks I’m sure I’ll be looking back on in his absence. Once my neck and chest were littered with blooming red splotches which would soon turn purple he pulled back. The need in my core had grown exponentially, I was bucking against him searching for friction. 
“Slow down,” He said after another failed attempt to buck against him. I whined against his neck, pulling against his collar. 
“Off.” I mumbled, pulling again. He smirked, but pulled back and rid himself of his clothing until he stood bare in front of me. 
He dipped his head, positioning them between my thighs but I stopped him before he got there. “Everything ok love?” I nodded and pulled him to face me. 
“I just, I want you in me, now.” I said on his lips. He laughed half heartedly against mine before pushing his lips against mine. 
“As you wish love.” 
The room was filled with moans and soft whispers that were diminished to nothing as we laid together, tangled in the sheets and ourselves. 
When I woke up he was gone, feeling cold in our shared bed. Pacing around the room I found his sweater I wore last night and put it on, pulling it down my chest I saw at the hickeys flowering up and down my neck and chest. 
Each day that passed I missed him more, especially when I fell sick around two weeks after he was gone. I was throwing up each morning like my body was on a clock. Went for a check up at the healers and they had no medical answer, I didn’t have a bug or an infection but it kept happening. After a while and a few long chats with friends I decided to go to a muggle doctor. This was around one month in, when I noticed more problems as well as the sickness, foods I usually loved made me sick, I felt bloated, my breasts hurt long after Remus’ marks were gone. What fully pulled it together was when the muggle doctor confirmed the small voice in my head, the one that was telling me it was what I least expected. I was pregnant. 
Each day after I found out I longed for Remus more, especially when days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months. 
Now, around three months into my pregnancy, I was putting up Christmas decorations. A few friends helped me install a tree considering I was starting to show and not very strong myself. The flat had a nice atmosphere to it, lights were up and decorations were strewn about it was starting to feel warmer despite the absence of Remus. 
That's when I heard a familiar pop. Whipping my head around there he was. Remus, his hair disheveled, bags in hands as well as under his eyes. He looked incredibly tired and my heart ached for him. 
Without much thought I ran to him, wrapping his tired frame in my arms. His reaction was immediate, enveloping me into his arms and holding me tight against his chest. All the worries that built up in the past few months left as I felt him against me, finally holding me against him. He pulled back enough to kiss me and I swear for the first time in a few months I felt ok again. 
“Are you ok?” I asked pulling back, I put my hand onto my stomach by instinct, a move that did not go unnoticed by him. 
“I-I’m fine, what are you-” He pointed to my stomach, I felt my nerves bubble up again. In all the months he was gone I didn’t think once about telling him. Kids were rarely talked about, we both agreed we liked the idea but now was no good. 
“Well um-”
“Are you pregnant?” He asked before I could explain. Looking at the floor I nodded, tears welling up in my eyes. Suddenly there was a thud and I snapped my eyes up to see Remus on his knees in front of me. “Marry me.” 
“What?” 
“Marry me, please. Let me the husband you deserve, let me help you raise our kids. Please Y/N.” 
I flashed him a grin, tearing up once more before pulling him up by his collar and kissing him. As we kissed his hands, travelled up my -his- sweater, and planted themselves over my barely there bump, it was something that didn’t go unnoticed by me, something that made a fire and sparks light up across my body. 
“So?” 
“Was that not an answer enough?” I laughed, he looked at me pleadingly. “Yes! Merlin you are annoying.”
“Oh, you love it.” He whispered, pulling me in he planted a kiss to my head. “I love you, you both.”
267 notes · View notes
organic-guacamole · 3 years
Text
episode 210 here we go
awww seb doing the intro
congratulations to milky white and her baby chocolate milk😌
seb is so funny
but seriously, clean up that milk fast or else it will smell so bad in there....
was that Lauryn just randomly doing cartwheels? idk any theatre kids irl but that seems like it's a common thing...
is it just me or has ms Jenn been getting more harsh to Ricky and Seb mainly-
like what did they do to her
no because I actually snorted with laughter at the "you came back" WHAT IS THAT VOICE-
AND THE MASK OMG
yeah so my throat hurts now
I'm dying over here
KOURTNEY'S FACE
SAME GIRL SAME
Ricky's fake death got the whole place in tears /s
he looks like an asthmatic walrus
Seb's on piano, I love
we all know if he was the beast we'd all actually be crying✋
ok but I listen to Julia's version of home on Spotify when I want to cry-
right so gimme a second
is Ricky scratching his face.....while he's dying?
"belle i-" *flop*
round of applause to Ashlyn for trying to make Ricky's earthworm seizure look less.... yknow
Kourtney's just dying there
WAIT IS THAT NATALIE
did she really just disappear for 9 episodes just to come back and stare dramatically into the camera
WAIT SCRATCH THAT SHES HERE TO MURDER ASHLYN AND RICKY
oh so Ricky's wearing a gay shirt now too
so that's the real reason why Rini broke up, see y'all next season when Gini and caswen become canon /j
wait that was a long intro scene-
what was that look Carlos-
TALK TO MY BOY OR ELSE
carlos' run is so funny to me
therapist Ashlyn to the rescue
"that is...super" son you good?
ms Jenn call Benjamin, he would willingly put his loved ones on a rocket and blast them into Venus for you....
maybe
"I don't want you kids to be disappointed" girl you do realise you're the one that's most invested in this?
"a smooth opening night" wasn't there just 1 show though-
like their opening night was closing night too
"I think I was Troy at one point" PLEASE THATS THE MOST ACCURATE DESCRIPTION OF THE SEASON 1 FINALE
me Jenn looks like a serial killer during that clap and I'm lowkey scared for zacky
"I have notes"
oo if you're taking suggestions, lemme get my list
"mother is freaking out" uhhhhhh
right....'mother"
"is everyone sitting down?"
*looks around awkwardly*
*big red slowly sits*
"no..."
please seb was the only one sitting-
does that mean Carlos looked at Seb as soon as he walked in and assumed that everyone else was sitting too or am I a seblos clown🤡
"is this about the transformation"
WOW MAYBE OT IS RICKY
WOW HES A DETECTIVE FOR FIGURING THAT OUT SO QUICK🤩
YO WHY IS NATALIE HERE-
she just shows up when it's convenient? is she gonna be at the sleepover too?
Seb's heavy swallow after Carlos shouts at him makes me so sad
"I never learned how to lie but I figure if I keep my mouth closed, I can't tell the truth" *nods and smiles at Nini when she asks*
why are they casually standing up all over the pizza shop, just sit at a big table and talk instead of blocking passageways and blocking off at least 6 tables-
"how about I invite myself" WHY DO PEOPLE ALWAYS FEEL THE NEED TO INVITE THEMSELVES TO ASHLYN'S HOUSE-
YOU CAN ASK BUT JUST FORCE YOUR WAY IN?
so Cash Caswell has a bigger house than... Dennis Caswell.... who would've thought
ah yes there's the good old EJ 1.0
Nini: "boys vs girls"
Gina: *looks devastated and glances longingly at EJ*
way to be inconspicuous
"but north high should be" *cracks her knuckles in the most uncomfortable way*
good for Ashlyn for getting more confident though
oo bossy big red
"i get bossy around the power tools"
is that why Ashlyn was holding up the drill in episode 8 orrrr 🤠
oh
Lily, leave him alone please
she's literally not blinking, is that what makes her creepy?
the diss at big red and his face afterwards is priceless
isn't that similar to what Gina's mom said to her in season 1? hmmmm
but seriously please don't try to redeem lily, let us have a character to hate, or to love because they're evil.
not everyone's a good guy.
"im not liked here and I don't know what to do"
let antoine finish his salad and it'll fix everything
"hug emoji" *gags*
y'all realize Lily's literally 14?
why is she calling a 16/17 year old from another school for personal advice-
"he gets weird around tools"
I shouldn't be laughing so hard
"deja vu maybe?" awkward silence
I'm dying here I love EJ so so so so much
"where's seb"
*cuts to seb being held hostage hoping that they'd notice he's missing and go look for him*
"don't ask"
"oh ok"
"100% real faux fur" as you should queen
sponsored by target
Kourtney is singlehandedly saving the entire show.
Seb making finger guns make me happier than it should
why is this kinda making me want to have a co-ed sleepover with my non-existent theatre friends
YES YOU DO NEED TO TALK/SING TO SEB CARLOS THANK YOU FOR KNOWING THAT
wait what-
you haven't talked to him all WEEK-
Carlos are you stupid /hj
Benjamin is so adorable I can't
he turned around to come back for her instead of going home. you're "what do you want Jenn🙄X act isn't fooling anyone Benjamin 🙃
10101
1+4+16= 21st?
they placed 21st?
or do I just not remember how to convert to base ten
GIRL DON'T BE RUDE TO HIM, HE'S GONNA SAVE YALL
no ms Jenn, the kids are not eccentric 35 year olds.
aww sebby
is he thinking that Carlos is only with him cuz he's the only other openly gay guy at school-
son you are a perfect little bean don't put yourself down
yes they all ship portwell as they should.
they'll be throwing risotto at the wedding.
not the chocolates. stop there are no chocolates. please stop I'm dying.
Gina you don't have to explain yourself to her
it was a misunderstanding and it's in the past
why is Ashlyn still laughing-
exactly it wasn't a big deal please just move on Nini
Kourtney really be out here saving everything
WHY IS ASHLYN STILL LAUGHING
why do I feel like when Gina finally told Ash about it, she didn't think it was that funny but wanted to feel included in the inside joke so now she brings it up randomly to show that she's in on it....I totally don't do that...
"idk, the farmer type" oh son...
Ashlyn and big red are just spilling the secrets back and forth huh?
OOO EJ AND GINA SITTING IN A TREE K-I-S-S-I-
cmon guys don't look at me like that-
"she is the best" and "we're buddies" don't sound right together
"pretty boy" "sweet boy" best ways to describe EJ
I love him.
and aw he's scared of rejection so he'll hold back just to keep her happy and not awkward how sweet
is Ricky wondering if letting her go(literally his song from last episode) was the best thing he did for Nini because he doesn't feel like it now? hmmm this is getting good
why is everyone so invested in Kourtney and Howie's relationship
PACK UP THE LAZY RICKY THING
oh yes Benji, that's exactly what she's doing
she couldn't follow her dream or whatever so now she's using the kids to gain some of the success she craves. why else would she have that massive hsm poster with her name on it in huge letters in her office.
just casually grab his hand with both your hands and stare at him creepily 🥰
ship jennzzara y'all
the first bump was a missed opportunity to do the baymax "falalala" as a reference to the fact that they watched big hero six while committing arson✋
wait so big red and EJ just left Ricky in the basement and now Ricky invited Carlos when they're supposed to be at the stage?
help no Ricky looks like he's about to tell Carlos he likes him (I know it's about writing the song for seb but still, look at his body language and tell me it doesn't look like that)
Ricky is so mature about this, he really just wants Nini to be happy even though he's hurting-
baby you deserve love, maybe Nini isn't the one for you but don't say you don't deserve it
why does he keep adding bro to the end like he doesn't know how to address Carlos
PLEASE CARLOS HAVING TO ADDRESS THE BRO THING
"let's write a song when we have like 45 minutes to get to the place and help our friends possibly win $50000 at the show in 2 weeks"
"can you hit a high C?"
"that's like the bottom of my range"
why am I laughing
this is so cool to see friendship interactions that we don't normally get to see
Nini why are you being like this-
Gina did nothing wrong??
I saw that, EJ and Gina being the only ones going in the same direction👀
right so obviously Kourtney's waiting until after the menkies to get back with Howie just in case he really is just using her as a way in to east high... obviously... right?
CARLOS
OK ITS COMING GET READY YALL
Why is portwell so awkward all of a sudden
OMG EJ
OMG GINA SAY YES or not, do what you want.
the way she doubts that EJ would genuinely ask so she has to make sure it's not Ashlyn behind it
OH
THE "NOT THAT I KNOW OF"
LIKE WHAT GINA SAID TO JACK ABOUT EJ BEING HER BOYFRIEND
GUYS THEY'RE SOULMATES
I want risotto now please
THEY'RE SO SWEET AND ADORABLY AWKWARD ITS LIKEEK LITTLE KIDS
OOOOOOO what is this place that seblos is in, looks fancy....and secluded
oh wait no Ricky's just standing there
wait is it the bomb shelter
it looks so good what
HSKAGSJAGAJAGWISGSKAUASBWKSVAIWBAISBQKSHIQBWOABWOABDOQBZIQBAIAQBSIWBQISVQKSIANSGOQBSAISBKASBKWBAIABQOSBBSJAHAJAVAJSBAJHSKAHSJAHAJAJAAJAHHHHHHHH
@youranxiousnerd ARE YOU OK?
CUZ IM NOT OK
LOOK AT SEBBY'S FACE
LOOK AT HOW ADORABLE IT IS
THE LYRICS ARE KILLING ME
SEBLOS IS KILLING ME
I AM DEAD
PLEASE SEND HELP
I like to imagine that Frankie and Joe practiced this in their apartment and just had a blast with it.
or maybe that Frankie practiced in secret like what Joe did for the climb
OH THE SUITS
THATS WHERE THAT CLIP IN THE PROMO WAS FROM
AWWW SEBBY'S SO CUTE
HE'S A LITTLE MARSHMALLOW
they're still so awkward with the dance I cant
let's appreciate Frankie's voice though
this episode really was made just for the seblos and portwell stans and you gotta love it
BIG RED GET OUT
WHY DOES HE ALWAYS DO THIS
Seb's little "yeah" IS ADORABLE
you can't tell me that wouldn't have been the best time for them to say I love you....IF FREAKIN BIG RED WASN'T THERE
ok but wait Ricky needs more hugs like that, look at his face
the boy needs love
"bro" please don't let Ricky and Carlos go back to not talking because their friendship is amazing
EJ laughing at Ricky sounding like a cat coughing up a furball is so funny to me
RICKY'S FLOP GETS ME EVERYTIME
I knew it was too good to be true
ok so Ricky's dead, next in line please
this episode was so short but I love it so much. this is what I signed up for for season 2✋
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Text
Drivers License | Peter Parker
Summary: Peter broke your heart and now its time to let it out
Song: Drivers Licence by Olivia Rodrigo
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“I want each of you to write a poem that has meaning to you. Make it heartfelt and make it good. At the end of the week you all will present them to the class.” The whole class groaned in annoyance at the thought of presenting. You dint say a word, though.
You sat quietly with your head in your hand and stared straight ahead. You tried not to look at him as the class session went on but you found it so hard and stared right at the back of his head. His brown curls were messy yet groomed, just like how he always wore his hair. And today you seen him wearing a science pun t-shirt and a jacket over it. His jeans were dark blue and his shoes were vans. You liked his outfit today.
The bell rang as your English teacher reminded everyone of the assignment. You walked out after him and when Ned called his name from the classroom behind your guys’, he turned his head. You both made eye contact and you could see him swallow harshly as he sent a timid smile to you. You didn't smile. You didn't wave. You held your head up high and walked straight past him.
As you began to put your change away in your wallet, you seen your brand new drivers license. You got it last week. You were so happy that you had passed the test and ran to your phone to call Peter because that was all he was talking about for months. But you stopped short as you opened his contact name and realized what he had done. He broke up with you. And It hurt.
“Stop staring at it. He’s an asshat. There’s no going back, you have to try and forget about him now.” You looked up and tried to blink back your tears as MJ held your arm.
“It just hurts still. A-and he's in two of my fucking classes, god MJ.” The curry haired girl sighed and nodded. She was never one to show affection but she could see you were hurting. She knew first hand how much you loved him and MJ swore Peter loved you just as much. MJ was usually never wrong and when she told you not to doubt Peter hanging with Gwen Stacy so much, she swore up and down Gwen was just using him for a good grade. She never actually thought Peter would leave you for her. Because MJ was usually never wrong.
It caught everyone by surprise. All your friends and family. It was all so sudden. The school caught wind of it the next day it seemed. The girls called Peter a jerk for not waiting to jump into a new relationship. The guys all patted Peter on the back and saying they didn't know he had it in him. It only made it worse. But now almost two weeks later and the breakup still wasn't easier.
“Is she with him?” You asked and you knew it wouldn't help your case but you just had to know.
“Y/N--”
“MJ, please.” You begged. You didn't want to turn and look for yourself, afraid that if anyone caught you, or worse he did, you’d be the laughing stalk of the school. MJ sighed and turned her body to see Peter and Gwen laughing with each other. Peter had his arm wrapped around her and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Ned looked uncomfortable.
“Yeah, she is.” You sighed and bit back the tears as you looked down at your drivers license and remembered how he broke up with you.
“I can't do this anymore” You furrowed your brows and stood up from his bed to face him.
“What?” You whispered and you felt your throat clog up as tears blurred your vision. Everything was fine, you were rambling about the drivers test and how hard it might be for you. Everything was fine, or so you thought.
“Y/N, I just, Im not really... I don't know how to tell you this, I-”
“Peter just spit it out!” You threw your hands out.
“I like someone else.” He clenched his jaw and sighed as he ran a hand down his face. “I’m sorry but you and I, I just don't feel that way anymore.” He finished in a whisper and the tears finally fell from your face. You didn't know what else to say in that moment. So you fled.
You then found out it was Gwen Stacy who he liked. The girl he said was just his lab partner, his study buddy. Just friends he said.
“C’mon, we have to get to class before we get detention.” You stared long and hard at your drivers license and had a thought. You quickly put it away and stood with your best friend.
“Right, next up. Y/N.” Everyone turned to you as you picked up the piece of paper with your poem on it. You were nervous to recite it since Peter was in the room. However you were also ready to let out how you felt since Peter was in the room.
You sighed shakily and looked up. You met eyes with Peter and felt your jaw clench.
I got my drivers license last week
Just like we always talked about
Cause you were so excited for me
To finally drive up to your house
But today I drove through the suburbs 
Cryin’ cause you weren't around
Peter immediately tensed up as your words ran into him. He took a glance around and seen some of his classmates looking at him and whispering to their partner. Peter gulped as he focused on you again and nearly fell out of his seat at your words.
You're probably with that blonde girl
Who always made me doubt 
You said not to worry about her
Yeah, I drove through the suburbs
Cause how could I ever love someone else?
Your eyes began to blur as tears came forward and you tried to blink them back, you didn’t want the whole class and soon the whole school to know you cried for Peter Parker during a presentation.
And I know we weren't perfect but Ive never felt this way for no one
And I just can't imagine how you could be so okay now that im gone
Guess you didn't mean what your wrote in that letter about me
Your words were harsh as you spit out each syllable and made direct eye contact with Peter, who wished he could shrink into the floor in this moment. Now everyone was looking at Peter with a disappointed look.
“Okay, well thank you for that Y/N. Everyone give a round of applause for Y/N.” There was scattered claps as you hastily wiped your cheeks.
You ran to your desk and grabbed your bag before leaving the classroom. Your teacher didn't say anything when you pushed the door opened and stormed into the hall, ready to go cry in the restroom or better yet, your car.
“Y/N!” You didn't turn around but was now forced to turn as he grabbed your hand and twisted you.
“What-What the hell was that? In front of everyone? Couldn't you-”
“How could you be so okay? Im hurting inside and you-your with Gwen Stacy!” You screeched as tears rolled down your cheeks. Peter cleared his throat and stepped back.
“MJ is tired of me telling her how much I miss you but she doesn't know you the way I do! I drive in the suburbs and picture that you're there with me.” You whimpered and Peter felt his heart break. He knew you were hurting but he never imagined you would be so torn like this.
“Y/N, please I never meant to hurt you like this. You have to believe me, I just-”
“I can't drive past placed we used to go because I still fucking love you! And I still hear your voice in the traffic, you are everywhere! Tell me you love me the way I love you! It’s okay that we aren't perfect because I've never felt like this, please Peter. You said forever.” You step up to him and he sighs before shaking his head,
“I-Im so sorry, Y/N..” A sob rips through your throat as you turn and walk away from the boy. You make it to your car and you begin to cry as you hit the steering wheel.
You know you shouldn't be where you were at. But you couldn't help yourself. You parked your car and stared up at Peter’s apartment. You turned down your music, only a bit as you rested your head on your window.
Cause you said forever now I drive alone past your street
154 notes · View notes
illneverrecover · 4 years
Text
call you mine (M) | changkyun
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➛pairing: Im Changkyun (I.M.) x reader ➛genre: friends with benefits!AU,  non Idol!AU, angst, smut, fluff. ➛word count: 2,741 ➛rating: M ➛warnings: idk this is truly some sweet soft shit, mentions of alcohol, friends with benefits, standing sex, slight rough sex, biting/marking because clearly I have a kink, unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of Mingi!!, lots of kissing, soft clown Chaingang truly.  ➛summary: Changkyun knew he ruined your friends with benefits arrangement when he let his feelings be known, and now you’ve left him on read for weeks. So he does the only thing he can to stay sane - he religiously watches your Instagram stories. ➛notes: Another first for me - my first Monsta X fic! I’ve played around with writing Changkyun for a while now, mostly because I live to torture @taetaesbaebaepsae​ (which she deserves from all the PAINFUL and RUDE Baekhyun shit she’s written for me). However, she decided to actively commission her own demise, because she stays not listening to Namjoon and refuses to love herself. I’m glad I finally got a chance to take a stab at writing her ult, and I hope I did him justice! Enjoy your tomfoolery, Kristin! 💖 ➛song: Call You Mine -  The Chainsmokers & Bebe Rexha | Horizon - I.M. & Elhae
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It’s pathetic, he knows.
The way he can’t stop watching, the way he seeks your face out in an app full of millions of others. The way he can’t get you out of his bed, his head, his thoughts.
He fucked up, scared you off, and now he’s left with the aftermath of his own stupidity. Watching you through a screen to fight the withdrawals off, to keep his heart beating.
Changkyun knows you would laugh at him if you saw what he was doing. 
Watching your Instagram stories is the only reason he’s heard you laugh in over two weeks, the only way he’s been able to see your eyes light up, your lips curve into a salacious grin. Things he fucking missed, thought he would have plenty of time to indulge in - until he couldn’t keep his mouth shut and ruined it.
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He had taken you back to his place after a few shots of whisky at the dingy local bar, hands and mouth unable to leave your skin - just like the hundreds of times before. It had been four months since you had started this friends with benefits relationship, and despite having freedom to see whomever he wanted, Changkyun found himself only starving for you. So hungry that he couldn’t stand another moment in that place, watching you share your smile with anyone other than him. So he had tugged you close, nipped at your ear, told you that you were so damn beautiful that he couldn’t stand there another minute without you coming undone around him. 
You had smirked, slid your hand down the front of his pants, grabbing his cock like you owned it, purring out the words “prove it” before following him outside, just like the hundreds of times before.
Pressed up against his wall, his pelvis flush with yours, Changkyun whispered filth in your ears as he ground up against you, swallowing your moans in greedy kisses. Desperate fingers had pulled at your top, freeing your breasts for him to worship as he worked your skirt up around your waist, thrusting his clothed length against your core until you were whining.
Changkyun always promised to take his time with you, to work you over until you were drunk on his touch and pleading for more - but you never let him, always knowing the right thing to say to get his gaze to go dark and lust to turn frantic, to unzip his jeans and press inside your dripping cunt right there in the hallway. 
Just like the hundreds of times before.
You had come around him, digging your nails in his back so hard it left marks, made him growl your name against your collarbone as his thrusts picked up speed to fuck you through the high. You urge him on in the way only you can manage, begging for his release, whispering how much you want his come deep in your cunt. Biting down against the skin, he had spilled inside you with a final groan, hips twitching as he pumped you full of him, forehead resting against your shoulder.
Instead of pulling away immediately, Changkyun remained collapsed against you, breathing heavy. You had smacked at his shoulder, but he just chuckled, arms adjusting to continue a firm hold of your legs as he stayed inside of you, trapping you against his body and the wall.
“What are you doing, Kyun?” scoffing, you had grasped his jaw, forcing him to look at you. “I let you fuck me dirty against the wall without even demanding you buy me food after. Least you can do is let me get cleaned up.”
He had gazed up at you then, eyes piercing as they looked through you, and your heart clenched tightly in your chest. 
He knew he shouldn’t say it. Knew it would scare you off. And yet….
“I would, you know.” Swallowing thickly, his tongue darted out to wet his lips. “Take you to go get food. If you - I mean, if you wanted. If you’d let me.” 
It was like he could see the carefully crafted defenses go up, the pain etching your brow and making your eyes go cold. Anxiety flooded his veins as you wiggled out of his grasp, sliding your clothes back into place as you moved towards his bathroom.
“You don’t mean that,” you murmured, faking a smile. “You know what this is, Kyun.”
“I do mean that!” He knew he sounded too eager, too pitiful, but he couldn’t stop himself. “I’d take you out to dinner. Or,” following you, he paused in the doorway, watching you appraise yourself in the mirror. “We could just get take-out and go somewhere private, drive to a park, bring a blanket and some booze, eat somewhere no one would know or bother us.” 
Your answering laugh had sounded wrong, like it had cost you something - like it was the last thing you had wanted to do. 
“Like a picnic? Changkyun, you’re saying you want to take me on a picnic? Like a proper date?”
Stuttering, he tried to explain himself, but you had cut him off with a single wave. 
“Listen, we both know I’m not that kind of girl, and you don’t want me to be.” Leaning forward, you had pressed a kiss against his mouth, your eyes somber when you had pulled away, moved towards the door. 
“What if I do?” His voice broke, wanting to reach out but his arms remaining stiff at his sides. “What if I want you to be that kind of girl, with me?”
Tears stung your eyes, your stomach sinking like you had been punched. You couldn’t do this, couldn’t handle the inevitable disappointment that would come when you got your hopes up.
“I’ll see you around,” you threw over your shoulder before shutting the door, and shutting him out. 
Just like the hundreds of times before.
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It had been two weeks now since he last saw you in person. It wasn’t for lack of trying; texting you at all hours had proven fruitless, even when he tried to send the usual ‘you up’ message like he didn’t just lay his heart out on the line. You responded airily, non committal, and he knew what you were doing. 
You were trying to let him down easy.
So here he was, phone glued to his hand as he scrolled through to find your picture, clicking on it to see if there was any update. You didn’t post a bunch in your feed, but you had a tendency to update your stories often - filling them with silly memes and cute selfies, little videos of you going about your day. Cuddling with your cat, attempting to cook something for lunch. His favorite was when you would do tarot readings for your followers; the way your face would turn serious as you read the cards, passionate fire in your eyes as you helped deliver the message to its owner. 
Seeing you that excited and genuine did something to him, made his chest feel like it was going to explode.
He knows you can tell that he’s watching, can see the icon of his profile showing up at the bottom of the video under “seen by.” He can only imagine what you’re thinking when you see it - that he’s a loser, this friend with benefits who turned lovesick puppy, but he can’t make himself care. It’s the only way he feels close, can pretend you’re still in his life.
He never thought that he would need you, now all he wants is to see you - for you to answer him, to come back to him. 
Changkyun still sends texts, unable to stop his fingers from reaching out, despite knowing you’ll shut him down. He calls sometimes too, late at night when his blood is more whisky than plasma, though you never answer those. Instead he listens to your voicemail, eyes closed to stop the world from spinning, letting your voice lull him to sleep. 
He convinces himself he’s fine with this arrangement, that things would be alright. He can just miss you from afar, observe you live your life through the pixels of a screen. That watching your stories is enough for him, will keep him afloat.
Until he sees you with someone else.
It was another Friday night he was spending alone, half drunk and on his phone, looking for your picture. Taking a deep breath, he had felt his heart stop when he saw the rainbow ring adorning your profile photo, meaning you had updated your story. Sighing, he tapped it, hoping that it would be a few videos so he could pretend for just a moment that he was beside you instead of wasting space on his bed.
The first clip was a selfie, your heavily lidded eyes staring seductively at the camera through your lashes, making his pulse jump and pants tighten. The caption “gonna get drunk tonight!” scrolled across the image, right below the pout of your lips. The next was a small video of you making a drink, giggling about the mixture of tequila and soju you were tossing in your cup, whispering to the camera how it was going to get you ‘all the way fucked up’. But it was the third clip that had his chest heaving, his lungs forgetting how to work.
You were walking out your door, a few people cluttering your front porch as you asked if anyone had a light. Some tall red headed kid - Changkyun refused to acknowledge him as anything more than that - had shouted out, and you squealed as you ran up to him, sliding directly onto his knee before switching the camera into selfie mode to capture the two of you. The next clip was you in his lap, one of your delicate hands sliding through his hair as he gave you a big dopey grin, a cigarette perched on your lips as you cooed at him and told him just how cute he was.
Fuck. He knew that look of yours, knew those moves. Knew exactly what you were doing, what you were hoping to do with that fucking Mingi kid, and he couldn’t stand it, not anymore.
Taking a few deep pulls directly from the liquor bottle, his fingers flew over the keys of his phone, sending you text after text -  all of which were ignored. He knew calling would be pointless, that you would rather light yourself on fire than answer your phone - especially at a party - and he felt desperation creep up his throat, choking him.
Changkyun couldn’t let this happen. Couldn’t let you just forget about him.
Clicking back onto Instagram, he started sending you responses to the story video as he got dressed, throwing on the nearest pair of jeans and sliding on his boots.
<What are you doing? Why won’t you answer my texts? I fucking miss you.>
<And not just fucking you. I miss you. I miss us. If you want me to stay for the rest of my life, I will. You already got me.>
<Answer me, Y/N. Or I’m going to come over, see if you can ignore me to my face>
<Baby?>
<I’m on my way. Don’t take that kid to your bed.>
It took painfully long for the Lyft to show up, and he gritted his teeth the whole route there, knee bouncing to stop himself from demanding the driver to go faster, to just hurry the fuck up and get to you. 
When the car had pulled into your neighborhood, he tried to send another message, instead clicking a video. Too frustrated to change it back, he lets it record, his voice low and pained. 
“I’m on my way, please let me in.” 
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You were alone on the deck when your phone started vibrating, the ding of an Instagram direct message making you click the app, eyes widening in surprise when you saw the number of notifications. 
Changkyun, all from him.
Awestruck, you scrolled through every line, your heart throbbing with each word he had written. 
You didn’t think he cared, not like that. Sure, he missed the sex, but that’s what you expected. That’s what all of them wanted when they sent you late night texts, when they called your phone at three in the morning. Empty promises and broken vows were what kept you company in the dark, when they’d predictably leave you alone with an ache between your legs and in your chest.  None of them really wanted you, cared about you. After a few weeks of ghosting, they’d all disappear into thin air like expected, and your heart would harden just a bit more.
But now…
Another chime pulls you from your thoughts, eyes flicking back to the light of your phone. Instead of another direct message, it’s a notification that Changkyun had updated his story for the first time in months. 
Shaking fingers slide against the screen, your vision blurring as you take in the shadowed back seat of another person’s car, the only light  neon pink from the sign of the Lyft drivers decal. For a moment, all you can hear is the quiet chattering of a distant radio, of someone breathing heavily. 
And then his voice croaking over the speaker, raspy with need. 
“I’m on my way, please let me in.”
The video fades just as a car pulls up to your curb, a flurry of movement as Changkyun climbs out, stumbles towards you. He all but collapses into your arms, his breath dripping with liquor, eyes reddened but burning fiercely.  
“Y/N,” he mumbles, hands coming to cup your face, thumb dragging against the smooth skin of your cheek. “I want to take you on a picnic.” 
You laugh, though it comes out more like a sob. “What? What are you talking about? Did you call a Lyft and come all the way across town to tell me that, you clown?”
His finger taps against your lips once, twice. “Shh. Just let me-” he sighs, stomping a foot. “Let me talk.” 
He waits until you nod before continuing, words surging from his mouth as if he couldn’t hold back a second longer. 
“I came all the way here because I want to take you on a picnic. I want to buy you food and take you on cute little dates and do cheesy things that make you smile at me like you are right now,” he grins, pulling you until your chest rests against his own. “I’m here because I couldn’t stand you ignoring me anymore. I meant everything I said - that I miss you, that I want to be with you, if you’ll give me the chance. I want to call you mine.”
Pressing his forehead against yours, his eyes fall shut, his voice fervent and barely more than a whisper. 
“I love you, Y/N.”
Tears brim your eyes, and you fight every old wound that tells you to shove him away, to call him a liar. Instead you allow yourself to follow your gut, your heart for what feels like the first time, leaning back to give him a watery smile in return. 
“I love you too, Changkyun.” 
His mouth immediately lands on yours, tongue eagerly tracing the seam of your lips until it’s slipping inside, tasting every inch of you, ravenous and unsatisfied until your knees are shaking. He’s walking you backwards towards the door, tugging at your clothes, and you giggle at his impatience.
Pulling away, you gasp for air, palm pressing against his shoulder to hold him back for a moment. “But listen, if I give you a chance, that means you have to stop stalking my Instagram, you creep. And don’t try to deny it, I see you all over my stories, lurking around.” 
He chuckles then, nipping at your bottom lip as his eyes darken. “Please, don’t act like you don’t love the attention,” 
Pushing the door open, he guides you inside, mouth working over your neck, arms wrapped around your waist until your back is flattened against the wall. 
“Plus, there’s no need, now that I got you,” he confesses, his nose swiping against yours gently before he captures your lips between his own, hitching your legs to drape around his waist as he grinds against you, humming words of praise.
Just like the hundreds of times before, but now as his.
801 notes · View notes
miekasa · 3 years
Note
the pre-pancetta snippet: early december, 3 months before the world went to shit
💉levi gets sick [levi grumbles in the background]
it was the pre-pandemic flu season. levi caught it at work and just his luck, it was pretty bad for him. but healthcare is expensive, capitalism sucks, so he wore a mask and still went to work the next day, thinking bedrest during the weekend would be enough. erwin kindly dropped off some sports drinks while hange gave him a new bag of black tea leaves. oc comes home to find him almost asleep at the table while waiting for water to boil for his tea and her senses tingle. she just knows. levi is pretty out of it by then, very pissed, feeling like shit, but still thinking about the slack he has to pick up at work. oc is very concerned because he looks awful. she bugs him and asks him if he’s okay with her checking him up. he is about to tell her to piss off but what the hell, lucky his roomie’s a doctor and he’ll take free healthcare when he can. so he nods once in dramatic brooding levi fashion.
her hands are cool on his forehead and neck, it feels so good, and levi is really trying not to accidentally moan out loud. when she brings out her stethoscope and asks him to take deep breaths, his focus is on her hand absentmindedly rubbing his shoulder [levi thoughts: he’s really out of it if this is all he can focus on]. oc’s brow furrows when she finds out he’s had only one cup of tea for the entire day and only one meal the day before. he says he’s brewing more, but oc is not having it! she heats up some leftover soup she has and makes him eat before handing him a tylenol. levi feels unsteady and weak but he’s trying to keep up the i’m-fine-it’s-just-the-flu facade. oc sees right through it and tails him to his room.
she helps him to bed, all while saying he’ll need meds for the virus and he needs to eat and drink more fluids because he’ll need an IV drip if not. even if it’s just the flu, he got a pretty bad case. levi strips off his shirt before he drops onto his pillows, grumpy and dismissive, telling her to just leave the prescription. he can handle it. oc snorts before leaving him alone (for now)
levi wakes up to rustling sounds and finds oc by his bedside setting up some stuff. his head is pounding, entire body is aching, and his cough is killing his throat. he’s very grumpy and is about to tell oc to just let him be but he gets a coughing fit. oc rubs his back while checking his vitals, her voice soft with worry as she asks him how he is feeling. he says he went to the bathroom but that’s it. he doesn’t see oc frown, but he’s more than annoyed that he is disturbed when she digs him out of the blankets. she helps him sit up, propping him on his pillows, and she makes him eat more soup, drink some tea, and take his meds. his throat is cooling and he realizes belatedly that she made him strong mint tea. he’s just swallowing whatever so he can go back to sleep [levi is trying very hard not to vocalize his disappointment whenever her hands leave him]. oc sighs at the little care her patient has for himself, but she tells him that he needs a drip at this point. she’s not satisfied with how little he’s been eating and drinking. levi is ready to throw hands because he refuses to spend thousands of dollars for 2 hours at the emergency room and get scammed by health insurance just so they can give him IV fluids, but oc surprises him by saying she’s all set up, and if he’s okay with it, she can do it here.
he shrugs and holds out his hand. the skin of her hands are a little rough with a few calluses, her touch so light and sure. the needle pinches but the pain dulls after a few seconds. he watches oc taping up the line and securing his hand to some makeshift splint so it doesn’t move around much. oc hangs up the bottle on the hanger she installed on the wall lamp by his bed before heading out. levi tries to fall back into sleep again. suddenly, he feels a damp cool cloth brush his forehead and his face while another hand runs through his hair gently. he’s groggy and he squirms because what. he hears oc shushing him, saying something about sponge baths for fever, and he’s just so not used to tenderness and care, and she’s sponging down his neck and his chest, running over his arms, turning him on his side gently so she doesn’t jostle him into wakefulness. her hands are firm and gentle as they wipe down his back and it’s cool and soothing and so good over his heated skin. he falls asleep in minutes. this never happens.
he thinks oc drops in once more in the middle of the night because he remembers someone holding him up to take something. when he wakes up the next morning, his fever is gone and he feels like himself again. he sees an empty bottle on his bedside table which means oc must have changed his drip too. the one he’s hooked to is almost gone. he’s in the middle of answering a work email on his phone when oc, already dressed for work, pops in to check on him. she has a tray in hand, looking genuinely relieved and happy that he’s better. his knows his appetite is back because the smell immediately makes his mouth water. he is very hungry after 3 days of soup and tea. she made really good pancakes, fried bacon to a perfect crisp, and the scrambled eggs are savory and creamy. it’s killing him. he can forgive the tea bag from a packet. levi is still a tea snob. oc is cheery, chirping that he’s good to go without a drip as long as he keeps up his food and fluids.
oc: water, tea, or pocari sweat, levi! none of the sugary sports drinks erwin left you, that stuff is a scam.
levi: i don’t have pocari—
oc: i bought you some, they’re in the drinks cupboard!
levi: why—
oc: it’s not just sugar, it has the electrolytes you need!!
she unhooks the IV and takes out his line, lays out his medication regimen and tells him to please call her if he starts feeling bad again. levi rolls his eyes and bats her concern away, grumbling that he’s fine and well enough, but he’s listening to every word she says. he utters a small thank you because how on earth does he convey his immense gratitude in words, he is not used to words!!! his cheeks feel very warm. oc giggles and ruffles his hair. she understands her roomie’s not talkative, but his soft gaze betrays everything beneath his gruff exterior. his shyness is adorable even if he was a grumpy old man while sick. oc thinks that her theory of him being 89 years old deep inside might be right after all. she sternly tells him to rest and lay off strenuous activities until he’s really recovered.
oc: rest. no cleaning today.
levi: my room—
oc: no. cleaning. today.
and just like that, she’s off to work [levi thoughts: wtf she works on sundays?]. all that levi can think of for three days, or more like since that day, are her gentle, comforting touches, her kind smiles, and how pretty she is. he tries, he really tries to push back the thoughts and bury the memories, but all efforts become in vain for him the next week.
he’s reading on the couch and relaxing for the night when oc comes out of her room looking like a fucking goddess. she’s in a deep green dress of flowing silk with thigh-high slit, sporting a dark, vibrant red lip, complaining of some recognition ceremony she has to attend for one of her bosses at work. she pouts while slipping on pumps that make her legs look even more stunning. levi is aware that he is staring and has tuned out her voice, so he forces himself out of it. he remembers basic conversation etiquette and lamely asks about the party. oc says it’s a black-tie-long-gown thing that’s a waste of her time. she twists her hair up in a messy bun and puts on earrings, grumbling that this is the most formal she’ll go. levi is mildly amused when she says she’ll nick a bottle of good champagne and some desserts before she escapes the party in an hour. tops.
levi: what if you get caught?
oc: they can spare one bottle and a few cupcakes
levi: and what reason have you come up with if they start interrogating you?
oc: my roommate is sad and a stress-eat is essential after shitty weeks of being underpaid laborers *cheeky smile*
he rolls his eyes. when she steps out their door (her uber’s there), levi counts to ten before groaning very loudly to let his frustrations out.
but she really did steal and bring home the good stuff, squealing in excitement when she sees that he was still up. he actually waited for her to get home but she doesn’t need to know that. they shared fruit tarts and fancy mini-cakes and worked through the bottle of champagne while bonding over their mutual disdain for assholes at work. conversation was open and easy, and levi cannot remember when he has been this comfortable around others who weren’t old friends of his. he was in an old shirt and jogger shorts. oc was still in her dress, barefoot, lipstick still perfect and bun still messy, picking a strawberry off the last cake while laughing at his dry jab about her boss. and jesus christ, she was exquisite.
at this point, denial begins to trickle in, but levi doesn’t know that yet. it’s just the champagne, right?
end. this was so mf long, i’m so sorry 😭 anyway this is insanely self-indulgent, and this is me coping with the pandemic (and with SnK ending today)
AHHHHHHH I LOVE ALL OF THIS ANON!!! SO MUCH!!!! PLEASE THIS HIT ALL THE MARKS!! Levi being reluctant to having someone take care of him, oc picking up on him not feeling well even though he’s not really showing it, and eventually just giving him the care and attention he needs (without suffocating him because you know he would be grumpy about that). I love this wow, seriously. 
AND THE END!! When they’re drinking together and he’s feeling better, you know damn well he didn’t even want her to leave in the first place, and IM SO GLAD HE’S FINALLY REALIZING!! Levi, my beloved, you are in love it is not the champagne 😌😌
35 notes · View notes
reefartandwriting · 4 years
Text
Running out of Time Pt 1
When Luz had announced that she only had two weeks left until she had to return home, Amity felt her world shatter. She heard Luz assuring everyone she wouldn't be gone forever, she'd visit, and come back next summer… but Amity didn't pay much attention.
Luz was leaving.
That single thought was tearing her apart. This past few months had changed her. Luz had changed her. But despite that her fear of losing Luz was becoming a partial reality. And she hadn't even said anything about her feelings. Luz was just as clueless and dense as she had been during Grom, and their match of grudgby against boscha.
She wandered away from the group gathered. More than she had even expected. So many lives that Luz had affected, for the better. All smiling and wishing her the best and for a safe return when she could.
"It was stupid anyway…" she muttered, blushing at the whole situation. "Luz isn't going to like you back, and all it does is hurt."
All the memories of that insufferable dork came rushing through her mind. The library, their book club meetings, grudgby, Grom, and beyond. How close Luz seemed to get without even realizing. The effect it had on her. 
Amity couldn't take it. She couldn't take two weeks of pretending to be okay with Luz leaving.
So she didn't.
For the next week at school, Amity avoided Luz at all costs. It minimized her panicked lovestruck thoughts, and any danger the human girl would get her into. It hurt, but by not looking at the disappointment she could imagine on Luz's face, she managed. It felt helpful. It created a distance. Distance was good. The pain wouldn't be as bad.
Or atleast, is what Amity told herself.
It was another half week, just about three days before Luz had said she was leaving, when Amity broke.
The final school bell rang, and she gathered her books and made her way outside, ready for the walk home, when a familiar voice came from behind her, as well as audible footsteps.
"Amity!" It sounded mixed between happy and searching, like Luz had been looking forward to seeing Amity but for a specific reason. 
She almost stopped, swallowing thickly her nerves, but kept walking, the footsteps stopping. But they began again, and suddenly the face she had ignored was in front of her, and she was forced to stop in her tracks. She wanted to run away, but she was frozen.
Luz looked so sad, her brown eyes searching Amity's guarded face for emotion. "You've… been avoiding me." 
Amity tightened the grip on her books and looked down, hoping that was it, Luz would let her go in peace, and not trouble her again. And once Luz left she could try to forget…
"Did I do something?" Luz asked quietly, making Amity look up to meet her face again. She looked genuinely worried. She had purposefully kept close to a whisper, and reached for Amity's hand to grip it between both of hers. "Look, I know I mess up, and I'm oblivious and stupid. So if I did something to upset you, I want to make it right." She looked up with a smile. "And I know I can't just fix everything, but I want to try. I don't want to leave the Boiling Isles on bad terms with you…" her smile faded, and she squeezed Amity's hand.
"I- have to go-" The girl squeaked, blushing and trying to form the will to pull her hand away. But it remained, and she started shaking with nerves. 
"I'm sorry, for whatever it was… I affect people when i'm not even aware of sometimes. Please Amity, You're one of my best friends, I want to make it right." She squeezed again. "Talk to me."
Amity's facade crumbled, and she let out a defeated sigh. This wasn't how to deal with emotions. And looking into Luz's sweet, stupid face… she couldn't let her go. Not like this. 
And she couldn't let her go without being honest.
She squeezed her hand back, and spoke quickly and quietly. "Meet me at sunset. At the cliff close to the Owl House. I… need to talk to you. I've been putting it off. I've been afraid."
Luz released Amity's hand, smiling. "I'll be there. But you're okay? You're more important than me feeling good when I leave. You mean more than that to me."
Amity turned away, drawing a sharp inhale. "I think I will be… after we talk. But I really have to go- my parents will be upset if I don't get home for my study time. I'll see you at sunset, Luz…" she slid past the girl, a blush overtaking her face. She covered it halfway with the hand Luz had held so gently, conveying such a soft message while she spoke. How had she managed to ignore her for so long? Why had she thought it was how to handle things?
The hurt expression alone on the humans face nearly destroyed her. But that smile… that cursed smile… built her up all over again. Her heart was beating fast, and an unconscious smile took her over as she speed walked home.
Her study time at least soothed her, but she was fairly distracted, trying to find the perfect way to confess. She was determined to tell her now, even if it hurt. Luz was too sweet to not let her down easy, at least. The convincing and thinking took up almost two hours, and before she knew it she had to get ready to leave. She grabbed nothing but a piece of paper and a pencil, Incase words failed her.
It was such a quiet walk, that nerves set in. All the stores were packing up for the night, people were on their way home, and she was on her way to do one of the hardest things she'd ever done. 
All the magic, death defying, pressure to be better… it didn't hold a candle to this. Her stomach squirmed in nervous anticipation as she drew closer to her destination. She just focused on breathing, the sound her feet as she moved, looking forward and not letting herself overthink. 
But she came around the corner and paused, her heart beating again when she saw Luz sitting and looking upwards at the stars, seemingly tracing them with her finger and facing away. Amity could only imagine the small smile plastered to her face. Absent-mindedly adorable.
She closed her eyes and took a breath, approaching slowly and carefully sitting next to her, the paper in her hand laid gently at her side. "Hey, Luz."
"It's crazy how clear the stars are here in the Boiling Isles." The human murmured, turning only slightly to show a smile. "it really shows how it's a whole different world from mine. And I get to experience it."
Amity huffed, a hand tugging on her own tunic nervously. "Yeah, and all the near death experiences."
"Well- you got me there. But that's what gives this place charm." She smiled wider, turning fully, meeting Amity's golden eyes. "Just like all the people I've met."
"I think you're the one with the most charm." Amity answered, taking a breath. "And that's why I was avoiding you." She looked up with a guilty face. 
"Because I'm charming?" Luz asked, confused. "Is it a bad thing?"
"No! Not at all! I just- you're so likable. And after you said you were leaving… I didn't know how to handle it." She shrunk into herself a bit. "Luz, I've had a hard time being super honest with you… you came crashing into my life and I was so confused on why you acted the way you did. You were so determined to be my friend even when I was awful to you because you made a few mistakes. You're so happy and hopeful and stubborn…" she covered her face with both her hands. "...You were my first real friend in a long time. And you've wanted to do nothing but help me and Willow and Gus, and because of that Im actually happy."
Luz put a hand on her forearm, giving a soft caring look that Amity couldn't see. "And you want me to stay." She smiled a bit. "Amity, I know how scary it is. And I'm gonna miss you so much! But I can't stay… I have to go home. To my Mom. I was only supposed to be gone for the summer."
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New Perspective
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part 06/?? “i feel the salty waves come in”
masterlist
previous part // next part
word count 4k
an: DEDICATED TO THE LOVELY @nobodys-baby-now​ / @jubileestreetv​. you’ve turned into one of my very cherished friends and im so grateful to have found a texas buddy on here. i hope you enjoy your birthday and thank you for always listening to my story rambles.
For the first time in her life, Natasha Romanoff wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do.
It was a bitter pill to swallow, but she had to admit it to herself. She didn’t know what to do to help her friend. First it was the lying sack of shit James, then losing the baby, and now to see her friend reeling from yet another betrayal left her nearly grasping for straws. She knew what mysterious Steve did was wrong and not his place, but she also knew he was trying to do the right thing. And to her?.. He did. James had not been a part of your life for months, and you were starting to do so much better.. She hated to admit that it wasn’t her handy work.
It was because of Steve.
Natasha couldn’t help but wonder if the reason why you were doing so much better during that time was because of the person you had told her so much about. So when she finally came face to face with him she definitely understood everything a bit more. One thing you hadn’t disclosed to her and Wanda was just how attractive the man was, or the way he looked at you with those eyes.
Yup. Those eyes. The man was crazy about you, and either you were blind as a bat or you somehow chalked it up to something else.
That’s something she knew you needed the most help with. Reading people better.
It had been a few weeks since the situation blew up at James’ apartment, you had called her asking to come over to her shared place with Wanda - and of course Natasha agreed. You didn’t tell her on the phone what was going but, but she knew. Natasha always knows. So when you came in, pacing back and forth angry and then stopping in near tears, she wasn’t surprised. And it all but confirmed another thought she had had.
You were starting to feel the same way about Steve.
Natasha was brought back to the present, sitting on the floor of your living room beside Wanda, rolling up glass after glass in newspaper and then bubble wrap. Your place was starting to look more and more like when James moved out: covered in boxes. But even now, Natasha eyed you across the room trying to figure out what was going on inside that head of yours. You were surprisingly calm given the fact you were about to move back in with Nat and Wanda after thinking you had found your person.
Ouch. That actually kind of hurt Nat.
Wanda was the first to try and break the silence, glancing over at Natasha as if looking for permission to do so, and built up a smile for you. “I was thinking maybe the first night you get settled we can all have a girls night. Watch that Brendan Fraiser movie you like so much.”
“Oh god please, we’ve seen it a hundred times,” Nat said.
“Mrs. Winterbourne is a classic, thank you very much,” you chimed in. “Peak Brendan Fraiser content.”
“You have to admit it’s a good movie, Nat,” Wanda elbowed her side. Nat rolled her eyes and shrugged.
“Shirley MacLaine was pretty fantastic.. And Rikki Lake..” Natasha’s voice drifted off, only to then notice her two friends staring at her with raised brows. She sighed and shook her head. “And Brendan Fraiser. There. You happy?”
“Over the moon,” you laughed. Wanda and Nat exchanged a look before continuing. They missed the way you hovered over a picture frame with your fingers, tracing something behind the plastic, before looking up at the time. “Shit.” You mumbled as you wrapped the frame up and  moved around the pair to the door.
“What is it?” Wanda asked as you unlocked the door.
“I told Bucky 12--” you stopped mid sentence as you pulled the door open and was met face to face with the man in question. Did Natasha see the way you practically tensed up when you met his eyes? Yes. But you on the other hand swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded a bit at your soon-to-be ex-husband. “Hi.”
“Hi,” Bucky replied. You told your friends you’d be right back and Bucky stepped to the side to let you come out freely. You couldn’t help but wipe your hands down the jeans you were wearing as Bucky let you walk ahead and down the stairs. Each step echoed through the hallways and even in your mind.
Packing up your life (your life with him) was bringing up so many.. Unanswered thoughts and feelings. So when you both made it outside the leasing office, you couldn’t help but notice the familiar, nearly intoxicating scent of his cologne. Bucky was dressed more like himself, not in the suits you had seen him wearing in that god awful penthouse a few times over these last few months. Jeans, a loose but not too loose shirt that showed his arms very nicely (you hated to admit) and it all but felt like too much. Bucky cleared his throat, shuffling his weight from one foot to the other, which made you side eye him.
“You look good,” he said. You looked down at yourself and thought about the state of your hair. You were a mess. Probably hot and sweaty from moving things around all day. So you couldn’t help but chuckle a bit.
“I look awful,” you replied. “I look as if I just did a marathon.”
“Maybe not a marathon,” Bucky chimed in. “More like a 5k.”
“Thanks, Buck,” you mumbled, but you two broke out in a shared laugh. It halted for a moment when the door was pulled open, and one of the assistants asked if you both could have a seat for a bit. You hesitantly agreed and sat on one of the benches and Bucky followed suit. He was careful not to touch his knee with yours as you sat there beside him, and Bucky rested his hands in his lap and took a look around.
“Remember the last time we sat here?” Bucky asked you. You took a deep breath as you thought back to that time, what seemed so long ago. You nodded your head a bit.
“Yeah.. I remember.”
Bucky started laughing. You looked over to him and he tried to cover his mouth to stifle the laughs but they just kept coming. You couldn’t help but smile and turn more to face him. “What’s so funny?”
“I was just thinking about how you were bouncing off the walls while they ran our information,” Bucky said between laughs. “I mean you were frantically whispering about everything that could go wrong. My lack of a rental history, your shit credit score—“
“My credit score wasn’t shit!”
“It was shit, don’t lie to yourself,” Bucky said. When your shoulders fell and you shook your head, you both laughed. It was.. It was like old times. Just the two of you.
“I remember you were just as nervous as me, Bucky,” you told him. Someone started to come down the stairs and you both did your best to hold in your laughs and look as calm as possible (though the person just gave you weird looks). You smiled a bit to yourself as you rubbed your fingers over one of your hands. “You sweat when you’re nervous.”
“I was nervous because I knew how much you wanted this place,” Bucky said. You couldn’t help but notice that serious tone of voice he got, especially when he was telling the truth. “I didn’t want to disappoint you.”
Didn’t want me disappointed over an apartment and then went on to have an affair? How strange.
You swallowed the lump in your throat and shrugged your shoulders. “It wouldn’t have been your fault Buck.. We always could have tried again.”
“Could we?” He asked suddenly. Your head shot up from his question and you met his gaze. James Buchanan Barnes, your James, stared back at you with his puppy dog eyes. They were filled with curiosity, and.. Well, hope. Your mouth fell open to answer, or to try and form an answer, but you were saved by the door opening and one of the leasing agents saying they were ready for you.
It was simple. Since you were month to month at that point, it was just a matter of giving your thirty days and returning the keys on the 30th day. The manager had looked away to type on his computer, and you stared down at the paper before you, one line for you, the other for Bucky. He watched you during the whole conversation, and when you didn’t make the first move he wanted to reach over, but he looked at the pen before him and instead took it upon himself to sign first.
You watched him do it, sign his name so effortlessly, and set it back down for you to sign next. With a sharp inhale you reached for the pen and signed your name right next to his. Probably one of the last few times you’d sign your name like that. You set the pen back down and the manager took the paperwork, and took away the drying signature you had your eyes focused on.
(Y/N) Barnes.
So it was done. You rubbed your hands together as you walked towards the stairs, Bucky lingering behind towards the staircase. You took a couple steps up before you turned back to face him, and he had his hands shoved into his jeans, watching you again. “Thank you for doing this.”
“Of course, whatever you need,” Bucky’s voice trailed off. You both stared at one another knowing this was it. But Bucky moved up a step below you, and you froze. “If you changed your mind, and you want to stay here, we can go back in. Tell them to rip up the papers—”
“No I.. Bucky I can’t stay here. I can’t--”
“You love this place, (Y/N)--”
“I also loved you!” You exclaimed. Bucky stopped talking immediately, mouth closing and his eyes shifted, almost darker. You felt the lump form in your throat again as you stared down at him, and shook your head. “You don’t know how hard it’s been to be in there everyday. You were everywhere I looked, hell I couldn’t even cook dinner for the first few weeks because every footstep I heard I thought it was you.”
You felt the sting of tears when you met his eyes again. You shrugged your shoulders, your voice coming out in a near whisper. “It was never you though.. You just.. Fuck, you just left, like nothing mattered.. Like I never mattered.”
“You mattered,” Bucky said quietly. His voice was rough, like he was holding his own tears back, but he did what he did best. Pretended to be strong. “You still matter.. What I did was fucking awful. Nothing will change that (Y/N), but this.. Please I want to fix this. Something. Just do something right for once.”
You didn’t know what he was asking you. He still stood on the step below yours, looking up at you like you were back at that party in college. You felt your heart breaking all over again, but you smiled sadly at him before looking down to your feet. “Sometimes doing the right thing means giving up something important to you.”
Silence filled the air after you said that. You weren’t sure if you were talking about the apartment anymore, really you weren’t sure what was happening. Suddenly, you felt the all too familiar feeling of Bucky’s fingers spreading over your cheek, and you looked up to meet his eyes again. His long fingers moved past your ear and spread over your neck, and his thumb traced over the skin of your flushed cheek. You weren’t sure if you were breathing, but you just couldn’t help but lean into his touch. You had missed this touch so much.
Bucky took another step up, and you were pushed further back until your back touched the wall. You were numb, fuzz filled your mind when all you could do was just stare into those beautiful fucking eyes. Was that your heart pounding in your ears? You couldn’t tell past the intense heat you felt radiating from him, his free hand had somehow managed to grip hold onto your waist, god he was so close to you you were weak in the knees. “Buck--“
“Ask me to stop and I will,” he whispered. Both of your hot breaths mixed with one another, and he stroked your cheek once more. “But I haven’t stopped thinking about feeling you like this for so long.”
“I can’t,” you said back in an equal whisper. “We can’t, Bucky.. Please--”
He looked down at you intoxicating blue eyes, and ran his thumb over your cheek one more time, and then suddenly he pulled himself away from you. You felt as if you could breathe again, but seeing Bucky stop before he made it all the way out your door made your stomach flip again. His hand hovered over the handle and he asked you a question.
“Is it because of Steve?”
You didn’t know how to reply in all honesty. But he looked back over at you with the saddest look on his face, like when his gaze changed that day you broke your news to him. Your mouth fell open to form an answer, but nothing came to mind. But that seemed to be all Bucky needed to see. He pulled open the door and shut it a little harsh behind him. You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat, and step by step walked back up the stairs to your apartment, the threat of tears stinging your eyes along the way.
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Phil Coulson was everything you needed in a lawyer.
At first you were very against accepting Tony’s offer to not only recommend counsel, but to pay for it as well. You were grateful just for the chance to go back to work, that that offer felt like highway robbery. But of course, Tony being who he was, told you he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. He said, and you quoted this verbatim, that if you didn’t accept his offer he would proceed to ignore all your calls just to watch the light blink. When he then proceeded to do it for a full week you finally agreed.
Phil was great. You started to meet with him right before you found out about your pregnancy, and weekly after that to prepare. Negotiations between yourself (Phil) and Bucky (someone named Sam) were rough, his lawyer was relentless to say the least. It was the day before your first face-to-face meeting with both parties, because in all honesty you wanted to avoid court at all cost. It should be easy, there wasn’t anything either one wanted from one another, the apartment was gone, neither of you owned any property, no large amount of money.. Phil reassured you this was all a formality. The last step before the courts would dissolve the marriage.
You had opted to walk, which was looking to be more and more of a mistake. The sunshine was quickly being overcome by dark clouds and the distant sound of thunder. You couldn’t help but grumble to yourself, dodging people left and right to make it back to the nearly empty apartment you still called home for another week. You had your eyes glued to your upcoming building but your feet stopped you dead in your tracks.
Steve.
Steve was pacing back and forth in front of the steps up to your building. His back was to you but you knew he was going to turn around any second now. There was no way you would make it inside without him seeing you. God, why was your life like this? You couldn’t see him right now, not after the whirlwind moment with Bucky, not knowing you had to see him the next day.. What if they were still friends? Was this a trick? There’s no way he just shows up the day before everything is about to go down. Maybe if you walked quick enough up the stairs--
Steve turned around and overlooked the direction you were coming from, you could see him scan over each head and face before his eyes landed on you. You tried your best to avoid him, kept your eyes to the ground, but nothing stopped him from still being at the front of the steps when you finally got all the way there. He stood before you like a wall of bricks, and already you wanted to just vanish into thin air. “Can we--”
“Please let me by,” you said in a low tone of voice Steve moved to the side without question, and you hopped up one, two, four steps until you could push open the door to your building. You nearly flung your hand to hold onto the banister of the stairs, taking two steps at a time up, feeling Steve pushing on behind you.
“(Y/N). Please can we just talk for two seconds?” Steve asked behind you. He was following you up, one or two steps behind, and stopped when you got to the top and turned back to face him.
“What is there to talk about?” You asked him. Steve gripped onto the railing and sighed with a shake of his head.
“I know I shouldn’t have turned him away, it wasn’t my place to make that decision. But after everything he said, how he treated you.. I didn’t want him to upset you anymore. You didn’t need that,” Steve tried to explain. He watched as you chewed on the inside of your cheek, arms crossed, and how your eyes shifted back to him when he was done.
“Whether you like it or not.. Steve, he was the father of our child. If he wanted to be there he had the right to.”
“I know,” Steve said quietly. “I know that. But I didn’t care about him at that moment, or right now. I only care about you.”
You gulped. Silence fell between you two and Steve just watched you to try and gauge your thoughts on what he just said. He could see the brow raise in surprise, the crinkle around your eyes as you looked him over, and the part in your lips to catch your breath. But you retreated from him with a shake of your head and grabbed your keys from your pocket.
He wasn’t going to let you run away from him again.
“Go home, Steve,” you said as you turned to go to your door. Steve bounded up those last few stairs and got to your door just in time before you could hide yourself away inside. You had turned back to close it only to be met face-to-chest with him, chest heaving as he looked down at you. Your face was more calm, like you were trying to accept what he was saying. Steve kept to himself, and spoke in almost a whisper.
“Please don’t close me out again.”
You closed your eyes and looked down to your feet for a moment. Steve watched as you let out a small sigh and stepped back and opened your door further for him. Steve took a few steps into the apartment he got to frequent on those few occasions and looked around your place. As you clicked the door shut behind him he saw the few boxes that remained, the emptiness, and Steve shoved his hands into his jacket. “You’re.. Leaving?”
“I’m moving back in with my friends, until I find somewhere to live,” you explained to him. You had moved around him and stripped your jacket off as you sat down on the couch that still was in the living room. Steve nodded a bit to himself, but it still didn’t help him feel better about it. “I can’t be here anymore.”
“This is what you were meeting Bucky over that day wasn’t it?” Steve asked you. You offered him a nod. Steve let out a sigh and shook his head. “I’m sorry.”
“It was time to move on,” you tried to reason, more with yourself then with him. Steve finally took a seat on the opposite end of the couch and leaned forward to rest his arms on his legs. He sucked in some air and rubbed his hands together.
“I know how much this place means to you,” Steve said. He glanced over at you and smiled a bit. “But I know how much more it means for you to finally be yourself again.”
You fell silent. What he had said no one else seemed to have understood about your decision. You didn’t know if Steve knew that, but all he did was smile and look you over. All he did was offer you comfort from a distance. You shook your head and couldn’t help the smile that fell over your lips. “You always seem to know exactly what to say.”
“Because I see you,” Steve whispered. Your smile fell and along with it the gaze you held with him. Steve though didn’t stop staring, taking in every detail of your form. “All I always ever just saw was you. Not the idea of what you wanted others to see.. It was only ever you.”
“Why are you..” your voice trailed off when you looked back up to meet his gaze. Those soft blue eyes looked back at you and it felt like your heart rate fluttered for a moment. “Why are you telling me all this?”
“Because I’m trying to show you that it was never about Bucky, what I was doing with you,” Steve tried to explain. He had taken the opportunity to move closer, but he didn’t dare touch you yet. “Even if I had known about you and Buck, it wouldn’t change the fact I was there for you. Even now. And I just want you to know I’m sorry.”
God he really had a way with words. You were falling right into those large muscular arms with the way he was looking at you and talking to you. You couldn’t deny the fact you had missed him. Steve had become an integral part of your life without you fully realizing it until he was gone, down those steps and out the building when your friends relieved him from his duties. You missed his company, his words, those eyes.. But something in the form of guilt ate at you at the same time.
Why were you upset with him? He thought he was doing the right thing, and though you were angry that he had been another person making a decision for you, he was probably right. You didn’t need to see Bucky at that moment.. You needed to see him. You let out a sigh and Steve watched you in wonder.
“If you make a decision for me again it better only be something like food, or a drink,” you said. Steve’s face broke out in a smile and you did your best not to match it. “But this means probation.”
“I can do probation,” Steve said, maybe a little too quickly. “If it means you’re talking to me again, I can definitely do probation.”
Steve stayed for a few more hours until you were ready to go to bed. You had a big day in the morning after all. Though you didn’t tell him what it was, he didn’t push you to share. His final words to you spun around in your head as you fell asleep that night.
I’ll see you around, angel.
- - - - - - - - - - -
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deniigi · 4 years
Note
I WOULD LOVE A DAVE FIC !!!
Excellent. Here’s for you and  @dudewhereismy-tardis
I am putting most of it under the cut because it is LONG
Dave (Daredevil copycat from Inimitable Verse) POV. Reminder that Dave is not his real name, but one given to him disdainfully by Wade in this verse.
Title: rises in the east
------------
“Dad.”
What?
“Dad.”
What time was it?
“Your phone’s ringing,” Charlie said. “It’s the boss.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
“Give it here,” Dave rasped, throwing an arm over his eyes.
“Mom said you’re gonna hurt your back sleepin’ on the couch,” Charlie reported as she shoved his phone into his palm.
“My couch, my rules,” Dave said. He crammed the phone to his ear. “Ansel here,” he said.
Charlie wanted to stay home and if she was a year older, Dave would have let her. But alas. The last time he’d let her stay home, she’d texted her friend Jesse who had become unspeakably jealous and had appealed to her own parents for such freedoms, and now the whole block thought that Dave recklessly abandoned his daughter when he went to the goddamn grocery store.
All that for a can of Sprite, man.
This neighborhood was off the fuckin’ charts sometimes.
Case in point: Dani standing in front of him in the lobby with her hands on her hips, telling him that he needed to wear a tighter t-shirt or to start flexing because they were losing business.
“Dani, I’m an instructor,” he reminded her. “I’m hired to do classes.”
“It’s two hours,” Dani said. “Take the damn fliers.”
But he didn’t want to?
Dani blinked at him slowly from under her headband.
 --
 Charlie was having a great time and Dave was glad for that because he was not. He was being stared at by every person in the street as if they’d never seen a dude with muscles before.
It was the shirt.
He knew it was the shirt.
And possibly his nipples. Smashing the brochures high enough against his chest to cover them wasn’t going well and the highlighter teal underarmor Dani had forced upon him left very little to the imagination here.
There wasn’t anything else to do but let the poor things live their best lives.
“Dad, gimme more,” Charlie said.
She tugged at the brochures covering what was left of his dignity.
Blessed child, who hurt you?
“Where did the others go?” he asked her.
Charlie pointed across the road to a gaggle of ladies leaning out from their stoop, smiling.
Ah.
Yes.
Them.
“Let’s try for someone who looks more like a bro,” he told his offspring.
Charlie blinked up at him.
“Why?” she asked.
Oh, baby.
“Because they’re an easy mark,” he said. “Go up and say ‘my dad can take you’ and send ‘em my way, okay?”
Charlie’s face went from confused to ready to kill instantly.
This was her game face. This was her ‘I’m gonna wreck this goalee’s teeth’ face.
Dave shouldn’t have been proud of her, really; her teachers said that she was becoming argumentative and obstinate in the classroom. But there was just something there in the fact that his kid sure as shit wasn’t no sheep that made his chest feel big, wide, and full of hot air.
“I’m on it,” Charlie said.
He gave her three brochures and let her scramble off to the other side of the sidewalk and then turned to meet the eye of a family with a father with neat hair and the beginnings of triceps peeking out from under his sleeves.
“You lookin’ for a gym, sir?” he asked.
The guy looked his way and eyed him up.
He took a flier on his way past.
 --
 “Excuse me?”
“One second, man,” Dave said, doing the rock-shuffle to keep all the fliers on the table from blowing away.
“Excuse me.”
“Hey, I said just a sec,” Dave snapped.
He turned back and found himself staring into the dark eyes of a bald man with olive skin and deep wrinkles in his forehead.
And Dave knew him.
Holy shit.
Dave knew him.
Fuck.
God.
Jesus, Lord.
“I am so sorry,” he started.
“DAD.”
Ch—Charlie?
He looked down and sure enough, holding Rudolph ‘Diamond’ De Luca’s massive bearpaw was his very own daughter. De Luca made her wiry, suntanned limbs seem like unbaked pretzels.
He was so much bigger than he’d seemed on TV all those years ago.
“This your kid?” De Luca asked.
Jesus.
“She is. I’m so sorry,” Dave said, “Did she—she didn’t bite you or anything, did she?”
“Dad,” Charlie whined. “Don’t tell ‘im that.”
“I’ll pay for whatever damage—” Dave continued.
De Luca blinked at him impossibly slowly with long dark eye lashes. He turned his face slowly back down towards Charlie.
“You sure this is your old man?” he asked.
Wh—
Wait.
What the hell did that mean?
“That’s him,” Charlie moaned. “He’s just bein’ dumb. Dad. Stop bein’ dumb. This dude’s the real deal. He’ll fight you in a heartbeat.”
Dave grabbed his child before she could cause any more damage. She made a fuss, but let go of De Luca’s mitt. Dave shoved her behind him, just in case this situation got any more tense than it needed to be.
De Luca lifted an eyebrow at that and then brought his face back up to Dave’s.
“Who’s gym?” he asked.
What?
Oh.
“Spitfire,” Dave said. “We’re, uh, just about there, on the—”
“I know where you’re about,” De Luca said.
Dave didn’t know what to say. De Luca held his eye.
Oh, god.
This wasn’t going well.
“How old are you, son?” De Luca asked.
FFFFFFFFFFFffffffffffffuck.
“38,” Dave said.
“And your baby girl?” De Luca asked, gesturing with his chin down at Charlie.
“I’m 12,” Charlie told him brightly.
“Hm,” De Luca said.
He shifted his weight back and wrapped a few fingers around his chin, surveying Dave’s whole body like he was the statue of David with a knee injury.
Dave became intimately aware of his nipples again.
“Not bad,” De Luca said.
Oh, thank god.
“Thank you, sir,” Dave said. “Is there, uh, somethin’ I could help you with?”
“You got an accent,” De Luca noted.
Uh?
“A good accent,” De Luca said. “Whereabouts did you grow up?”
Oh.
Well.
Dave could actually just point to it from here. The condo was still standing, despite all building codes and actual alien invasions. At this point, the only thing that was gonna take it down were the rampant, rapidly mutating, borderline feral gangs of chickens that roamed its halls.
Not that anyone spoke about them.
No, that was inviting trouble to your doorstep.
“The chicken coop?” De Luca said.
The one and only.
“Bless you, you poor fuck.”
Yeah, that tended to be the usual reaction.
De Luca laughed.
“You’re a funny guy, uh,” he squinted at Dave’s nametag, “Ansel?”
How could a word sound so wrong in someone’s mouth?
Where had Dave’s life gone wrong that his own name sounded so foreign and distant to his ears?
“Actually,” he said, swallowing, “My uh, my friends call me ‘Dave.’”
De Luca’s head snapped right up and slowly, a grin spread across his face.
“Oh, now, that’s a good name for ya,” he said. “You look like a Davy.”
Hng.
Diamond De Luca thought he looked like a ‘Davy.’
Diamond De Luca thought he looked like a ‘Davy.’
Welp.
Time to get that birth certificate changed.
“Listen, Davy,” De Luca said casually, “Your baby girl there was tellin’ me that your boss has you out here like dancin’ monkey; is that true?”
Fffffffffff.
Technically yes?
“It’s even his day off,” Charlie whispered.
Dave wrapped a hand over her face.
“It’s fine,” he said. “It happens. Folks’ve been sick lately. I don’t normally do this kinda thing.”
De Luca’s face said that that was real cute. Real, real cute, honey.
“Well,” he said, “Let’s just say it like this. Where you work don’t gotta be where you train.”
Oh.
Was he offering--?
“If you decide to drop by, tell the guy at the desk Rudy sent you,” De Luca said. “Your kid’s real sweet, Davy. She can come too, lord knows the damn place is a daycare at this point.”
“Thank? You?” Dave stuttered.
“Don’t mention it,” De Luca said.
He left. Dave watched him waltz down the block and wave at the gals collected on the stoop at the end of it and felt a little lightheaded.
“Dad?”
Not right now, champ.
“Dad? Is he famous or somethin’?”
HHHHHHHHHHNG.
 --
 Back when Dave had been 14 and scraping the tips of his fingers into callouses on the old guitar he’d found tossed into a dumpster in the Upper West Side, he’d had to compete with the sound of the couple fighting in the apartment next door and with the radio the old man downstairs always had playing on his fire-escape window.
The old man downstairs was a real hard-ass. Always slammed a broom into the ceiling, scaring the shit out of Mom and Dad and sister and auntie. Dave had never seen him not smoking, nor had he ever seen him without suspenders.
The man was a retired plumber, apparently. And while Jim Beam was his main vice, his passion was boxing.
To the tune of chords picked out of an out-of-tune guitar, Dave had listened to tinny commentators oohing and awing over match after match, until finally, when sleep wouldn’t come one night, Dave had snuck out of the room he’d shared with Flora. He’d settled down on the living room couch, next to his old man splayed out in the recliner.
Dad had lifted his eyes slowly his way and told him that he should have been in bed.
Dave had told him that he couldn’t sleep because the couple next door was makin’ up from their daily afternoon argument and Dad had just sighed.
He’d let Dave stay up with him and the TV in the living room had fuzzed and rattled away, making sounds really familiar to Dave at that point.
Boxing was a sport that he had, up until that night, left to his father. But for the lack of anything else to talk about that wouldn’t make his dad look at him with disappointment in his eyes for all that damn music-playin’ and eyeliner, he’d asked who the guy on the screen was.
And that was how he’d learned about Diamond De Luca.
About Kenny Varga. Bert ‘The Albatross’ Kleinfeld.
But there was one guy who Dad had mentioned was his favorite rookie and, now it felt both kind of silly and surreal that the name had been spoken so casually in Dave’s home growing up.
Dad had been puttin’ money on Battlin’ Jack Murdock back when Dave had been a little kid.
He told Dave, disappointedly, after a few weeks of Dave getting up at 12:30 to come out and watch boxing with him that he’d really thought that Murdock was gonna be the next big thing.
Guy was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, Dad had said, shaking his head. But wolves that got too wily got put down and Battlin’ Jack had been found in an alley, bled out in the arms of his reason for fighting.
Dad said it was a fuckin’ shame that Murdock had gone out with a slug in his head.
A fuckin’ shame, he said.
Dave didn’t remember him every saying that Murdock’s reason for fighting was a blind ten-year-old, but the thought was now merged with that memory.
That, in itself, was merged with the memory of Dave’s phone ringing one night was Addie’s name on the Caller ID. Her voice was shaking when she told Dave that the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen had just called her from an unknown number.
He had their baby.
He’d snatched her and Jesse out of the arms of two men looking for girls to be used in businesses Dave didn’t want to think about.
He’d saved them.
The devil had heard their screams when no one else had and he’d come flying out of the dark.
He’d held the girls in the light of a bodega and he’d coached Charlie through typing Addie’s number into his phone and then he’d taken it from there.
Addie was too scared to go meet the devil on her own. Mason hadn’t been around yet and so Dave had thrown on his shoes and had meet her on 46th.
The devil was on 48th, swinging his boots with both girls in his lap.
They were all singing. The devil had pretended like he didn’t know the words to Britney Spears’s ‘Toxic.’
Matt Murdock was under that mask.
Knowing that this whole time, he’d been the one dragging a stick against the fences and bricks of Hell’s Kitchen was almost impossible to digest.
And Dave had worked with him now.
He’d seen that smirk and that notorious jaw unwrapped from its red armor and that didn’t make reconciling the murdered boxer’s son with the man who’d saved his daughter any easier.
Charlie hadn’t remembered him.
She thought that Matt Murdock was a weird fuckin’ dude, and granted, he was a weird fuckin’ dude, but Dave had to say: he was grateful.
Matt Murdock not only brought home his baby, but he’d given Dave purpose in a life that had become consumed by the daily grind.
Matt Murdock had smiled in his direction, never quite into his eyes, and he’d passed along the baton with next to no fight.
Dave wasn’t him.
Dave would never be him.
Matt Murdock wasn’t just some poor murdered boxer’s blind son. He was the product of some serious poverty. Some serious violence. A whole fuckin’ cult induction, if he was to be believed. And Dave wasn’t so sure if he was always to be believed.
But he still appreciated Matt Murdock for what he’d done and what he’d made for this part of the city.
He’d made Daredevil.
And he shared that with Dave.
Dave’s own dad’s approval hadn’t felt like the honor that had come with Matt Murdock’s covered eyes and curled lip slowly relaxing as he’d lifted his face up from Dave’s knees.
He hadn’t been inspecting.
He’d been listening. Dipping his fingers into the blood in Dave’s heart and deciding if he was worth his salt.
Matt Murdock, son of Battlin’ Jack Murdock, was a product of Fogwell’s Gym in the Kitchen.
Diamond De Luca, retired heavyweight, was a product of Fogwell’s Gym.
The stars had aligned. And Dave had stood in their path.
And he wasn’t wasting the chance that they offered him.
--
Charlie was stoked to be allowed to come to the gym with him. She usually went to Jesse’s house, where Rubes would look after both girls for a few hours.
But De Luca had said that it was okay for her to come along, and so he figured, why not?
Fogwell’s was an institution in the Kitchen. All kids deserved to know their own history.
“I’m gonna fight Fogwell himself,” Charlie announced halfway down the block.
“You will not,” Dave told her. “Because I’m not tryin’ to get thrown out before we even get started here, alright?”
Charlie whined.
He ignored it.
 --
 This wasn’t the first time he’d been to the gym. Matt Murdock slipped in and out of it when he was in the city and he’d taken the whole team there once or twice. But it was different to be there in the presence of the daytime crew.
Dave felt very small in their presence.
The whole place was full of people pounding bags and swearing and shouting at kids who were tumbling all over the rows of benches set off to the side of the bags.
It was not what Dave had been expecting.
He told the guy at the front that ‘Rudy’ had recommended that he stop by and got a nod and a wave.
“He’s probably upstairs,” the receptionist said. “Go pick a bag, I’ll give him a buzz.”
 --
 Charlie refused to join the kids on the benches because apparently that was ‘only for babies, Dad.’ She wanted to hold the bag.
She was not, in one thousand years, holding the bag.
Dave wrapped her hands and let her go at it first to ‘soften it up’ for him.
De Luca caught him adjusting the demon-child’s thumbs before they ended up at the hospital again and laughed.
“Davy-boy, you made it,” he said.
Dave snapped up straight to attention.
“I did,” he said.
De Luca laughed again.
“Relax, kid,” he said. “Damn, you’re tight wound. Don’t worry, we won’t tell no one you’re sleepin’ with the enemy.”
Ahahahaha.
Please don’t.
These people were jacked. Dave was but a kickboxing instructor.
“Here, bub, lemme see what your pops has got,” De Luca said, shooing Charlie out of the way.
And this was the moment of truth.
 --
 De Luca seemed surprised when Dave finally laid off the bag. And Dave couldn’t read his expression for a million bucks.
“Uh?” he tried. “Not good?”
De Luca blinked himself back to earth.
“Oh, no,” he said. “It’s just uh, you fight a little like someone I know.”
Please don’t say a mobster.
Please don’t say a mobster.
“Kid used to live around here; name’s Matt Murdock,” De Luca said. “You know him?”
Did—
Did he know him?
QUICK. Answer the question.
You’re takin’ too long.
He’s gonna—
“S’alright if you don’t,” De Luca said. “I was just sayin’. Kid was like one of my own.”
He—
What?
“Yeah, boy fought like the devil like his daddy before ‘im,” De Luca said. “He’s the only one Fogwell lets call him ‘Grandpa.’ He’s about your age, actually. God, I’m old.”
AHAHAHAHAHA.
Please change the subject.
“You’re not that old,” Dave said. “I think I might have heard the name.”
Charlie looked up at him, baffled at the hedging.
He pleaded with her with his eyes not to say a damn word.
“Yeah, he’s somethin’, left here for San Francisco. Didn’t even say good-bye, the little shit,” De Luca sniffed. “Came back last year all ‘I’m gettin’ married’ and I swear to god, he’s picked up some kid. Just between you and me, pal, the old guard here have been talkin’, and we think that someone missed out on the sex ed talk, if you know what I’m sayin’.”
Oh.
Poor Sam.
He wasn’t even there to scream from the mountaintops that Red was a last resort for him at best.
“I’m just sayin’,” De Luca said with a shrug that spoke far more of supreme irritation than nonchalance, “He coulda just told us. I’m just sayin’.”
Any more ‘just sayin’s’ and Diamond De Luca was gonna go find a wall to bury them in.
“Did you, uh, have any feedback?” Dave blurted out as the guy started mumbling.
“Hm?”
“Feedback,” Dave repeated, waving a gloved hand at the bag.
“Oh. Yeah, loads, kid. You got all the muscles and not a damn lick of memory, here, lemme show you.”
Crisis averted.
Thank god.
 --
 D2: hey uh, DD?
SM: DAVE
S2: DAVEEEE
S3: DAVE
SM: what’s up man?
D2: nothing I was just trying to get ahold of DD?
BT: He’s trying to get Kirsten to give up her dreams of an indoor office pond rn. Can I help?
SM: I want an indoor office pond
S3: omg same
D2: uh yeah actually could you just tell him I met a guy named De Luca the other day and he might want to give him a call?
BT: de Luca?
D2: yeah
BT: okay sure thing
D2: thanks
BT: I’ll go see if I can get a word in edgewise.
SM: good fucking luck
S2: I hate fish
S3: leave this place and never return
S2: I HATE FISH
DD: WHAT
SM: oh shit that was quick
D2: oh. I was just saying that I met Diamond De Luca the other day?
SM: ?? Who’s that?
DD: oh no
S2: ??????????????
DP (´。✪ω✪。´): who the fuck is that?
DD: are you still with him?
D2: no?
D2: he caught me out fliering and invited me to Fogwell’s
D2: and when I got there he mentioned my stance was like yours and he uh
D2: got a little distracted
DD: what kind of distracted?
D2: He thinks Sam’s your bastard kid
BT: GODDAMNIT
DD: FOR FUCKS SAKE
BT: First Mrs. Jones, now this guy?? TEACH.
DD: These people have zero faith in me I swear to god.
DD: like come ON man. I did sex ed in the same class as Angie he knows I’m too catholic for that shit
DP (´。✪ω✪。´): I looked this man up and he looks like an Italian nate with less hair
SM: wh
DP (´。✪ω✪。´): okay you’re right he looks nothing like nate
SM: that
SM: that’s not even slightly helpful, wade, thanks not at all. Hey who’s angie?
DD: long story. Rudy’s daughter
S2: RED YOU FUCKED A BOXERS DAUGHTER?? That’s a million dollar baby man
DD: I
DD: what?
DD: no? Why would I fuck angie she’s like my sister?
S2: oh nvm
SM: 😬😬😬
S3: I am confused ❤
D2: you should probably call him, friend
DD: on it. thanks for the notice
DD: hey what’s your fuckin name again?
S2: f
S3: f
SM: f
D2: It’s Ansel
DD: Adams?
D2: not the photographer. Ansel West.
SM: WEST
S2: OMG
S3: guys don’t
SM: I BET YOURE A SUNSET DAVE
S2: YOU EVER FEEL CALLED TO THE PRAIRIE DAVE???
SM: YOU’RE A&W, DAVE!!
S2: ROOT BEER ROOT BEER
D2: ah yes. Middle school. I remember this feeling.
--
Dave laid his phone on his chest and stared back up at the ceiling.
It was never dull, this new life he’d settled into.
He said a prayer for Murdock and rolled onto his side.
It was still his goddamn couch.
 --
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