#hey who's that behind me? why do i hear tape?

[center-for-catboy-control]

person sized box for you ?

:] box

[beanlot]

butterfly knife

a tlou canon love story, a collection of ellie's memories, and a butterfly knife.

wc: 4k (fluff + major angst, brief vanilla smut segment)

reader referred to as ‘pretty’ and ‘ma’am’, major character death, mutual masturbation. just a sappy story.

─── ⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰ ───

“how long have you been collecting all this?”

she was astonished, gawking at the collection of daggers, folded knives, dual blades. your first knife, a typical switchblade, laid there neglected and rusty - you refuse to use it, she doesn’t ask why. “since i was.. twelve, maybe.” you answer, your singular karambit swinging back and forth between your fingers. “still waiting for my first butterfly knife.”

“butterfly? yeah.. good luck..” she scoffs, inspecting one of the daggers closely, her fingers gliding alongside the handle’s delicate intricacies. some are brand new, handcrafted with glory.

it was hard enough finding a serrated piece of metal that wasn’t blunt and rusted to shit, never mind a functional butterfly.

its habit, the way the karambit spins in your fingers; you’d spent years collecting knives, learning them until mastery. she watches as the metal swirls around your thumb, hypnotised under its beauty, she’d never seen one in person.

“which knife did you use first.. y’know, for your tricks..?” 

“mm. this one. it’s pretty basic, but.. it’s a good starter knife.” you tap one of the combat knives, and when you do, ellie observes the rugged scars on your hands from practising over the years; the side of your hand littered with slices and morbid consistency.

“been going through infecteds’ pockets and everything.” you mumble, and she releases a breathy laugh under the impression you’re bantering - when she looks up and sees the earnestness in your gaze, her laugh falls flat. “oh.. you’re being serious..” she gawks.

she admired you. the tangible things, from the bruises on your shoulder blades to the indented scar on your collarbone; the intangible things, like how willing you were to clear a corner first incase you needed to bite a bullet, or how you made her stomach ripple whenever you returned a witty remark.

“look at you being a little garden gnome.” you hear her approach from behind. your arms are sunburnt and itchy under the blistering wyoming sun. and so you snap at her, a sour “not in the mood.” through the dehydration and empty stomach. “it’s boiling hot, i can’t breathe in this fucking greenhouse, and there’s spiders everywhere.”

“want me to come join? i can do the cabba-“

”even fucking worse. get out my face.” 

she knew it was your relationship friendship. it was her ‘tsk’ing you teasingly, understanding the sarcastic dynamic between you both. you were partners in crime, rum and cola, two broken people who found comfort in eachother.

winter was nice though. she’d amble into her little cubby in jackson, hanging up her jacket with a spirited hey you when she’d notice your curled figure stirring under a blanket. the ground outside is crunchy with thick snow, the wind whipping against the windows and the wispy air barbaric against your skin.

she’d slide a vhs tape into the tv, gather some more sheets from her bed and cove herself behind you. body warmth intermingling as your back presses against her chest, her arm settling around your collarbone.

she’ll inspect your face, alarmed by the brutish graze on your cheek, fingertips impulsively feathering against the wound. “holy fuck. what’s this?”

“ow! don’t touch it!” you flinch, rolling on your back.

“sorry.. sorry..” she’d whisper yell, before you feel her wintry touch along your jawline, framing the abraded skin. you hear her tut, her verdant globes darting along your cheeks,

down to your lips,

and then to your eyes.

“your pretty face.. all ruined..” she sighs. she’s not sure what she’s doing, how to initiate; all courage in her stomach rotting to doubt when she sees your eyes nailing into her. you look confused, so she decides to play it off. “i’m joking. you’re not even that pretty.”

“ellie.”

“that was also a joke. you are that pretty.”

“ellie.”

“hm?”

“just stop talking, or i’m gonna beat your ass.”

“.. yes ma’am.”

it’s silent for half an hour, the occasional rubbing your legs against eachother like crickets or her fingers tracing circles on your arm. she wishes she could settle her hand on your waist, or your hip. but she struggles with establishing boundaries, the mere handshake or high-five is too awkward for her.

“have you ever liked someone?” you hear her murmur, her breath fluttering against your neck. you think for a little, eyes glued to the tv screen. “i guess.”

“did you ever tell them?” her nails are delicately feathering against your bicep, soothing patterns that heat your stomach with vim. you tell her a simple no, rolling to your back and maintaining eye contact with her.

she studies you, much like you study her. her cheeks are florid, peppered with subtle freckles that could be counted up close, pupils dilated and pooled with something you could only describe as adoration. “same..” she whispers, eyes mesmerised when they scan your lips. “sometimes, i wonder if i should’ve said something.”

you’re not stupid. and she knows you’re not stupid. you’re piecing the puzzle together, analysing the way her gaze softens with vulnerability, a sweetness which is such a stark contrast to her usual hostility.

“ellie..” you clear your throat, breaking her trance. it’s like she’s asking you, wanting your guidance, your permission. “if you want to kiss me, then do it. stop being such a pus-“ you’re interrupted as she leans in, tilting her head and swallowing your words.

her lips are weightless against yours, a years-in-the-making kiss, longing yet patient with you. her hands hold her up, one by your head and the other beside your waist; she parts her lips again, inviting you to connect with her, deepening it experimentally.

she wants to dart her tongue out and taste you, but the unknown boundaries of.. whatever this is.. is suspenseful and terrifying to her. so she’ll let you take initiative, her lips only smooching at yours with yearning, tilting her head to ease into it.

when you do part, her eyes are brimming with intimacy, as if she’s savouring you in this moment. you rub your lips together, and tastes like coffee, which makes sense. considering it has been all she’d been drinking this morning.

“.. ew..” you whisper, your hands cupping her jaw. she rolls her eyes, and she’s about to say something, but you pull her down towards you; your lips brushing together, feather-light and exploratory, before she kisses at the corner of your lips.

“m sorry-“ peck. “you’re just-“ peck. “too fucking-“ peck. “pretty-“

her kisses dot around your jaw, mindful of your tormented cheek, spreading to your neck. she was nurturing, taking your hand in hers, bringing it to her graceful lips and kissing each knuckle; each scar, each rugged slice.

the verdant shade in her eyes reminds you of the outside, the earth, the soil and the overgrowth; her pupils dilate as you maintain eye contact, bleaching that infected overgrowth with adoration. “can i..?” she whispers, fingers tracing the dips of your hips, dusting your stomach in circular motions.

“no. those are places you can’t touch.” you whisper, jokingly. but when she looks at you with soft brows and convincing eyes, you feel like siren bait.

“places i can’t touch.. yet?” she whispers back, genuine softness in her voice that seeps out like caring silk.

she’s a little bit of a loser. but it’s okay, because you’re wanting it just as much when you look down and see her slender fingers, admiring veins around her knuckles.

your legs subconsciously part at it, accepting her, inviting her. she takes the hint, manipulative fingers dipping under the fabric of your torn sweatpants.

it was essentially lovemaking, her obsessively pecking at your lips as your hands are nested into eachother’s underwear, mutually masturbating. you provided for eachother, blossoming pleasure when you feel her finger tease your swollen clit.

“feel good, baby?” she’d whisper against your cheek, lips lazily grazing your skin, breath hitching when you’d circle her clit.

at first, it was being careful around the edges, tracing each other precisely; then it was hips rutting against each other’s hands messily, the silent room filled with your heavy breaths and your thighs walloping sloppily against her hand as she’d fuck you with her fingers.

“fuck, more up. more up.” you’d whimper, core tightening as her dilated pupils look at you.

you wish you could make sense to her, but the stimulation is forcing your words to melt into difficult blether. “more up? like this?” she whispers, and you feel her fingers curl more, your clit pulsing with its own heartbeat as she does so.

“holy shit, you’re so good.. so fucking good, ellie.” your head would fall back, legs quivering as her fingers would twine inside and rock into you how she learnt you like it.

“that.. that was-fuck, you.. you’re incredible..” she’d swallow, trying to regulate her breathing, feeling your clit throbbing under her palm; your tight core and clenched hips relaxing post-orgasm. “you-you came so quick..” you hum, your hand gliding out from between her legs, her cum glossing your fingers seductively.

“can you blame me? you’re in my ear going mmph.. mm-mhm, mmphm..” she would mimic your whines, because your relationship friendship situationship was teasing. you’d roll your eyes, nudging her shoulder from embarrassment.

she loved you, to pieces.

but those pieces started to crumble after joel.

“didn’t mean to wake you..” you hear her mumble as she zips her bag up, consumed by grief. she’d been packing as you slept, which wasn’t totally out of character - ellie’s always been sneaky. “what are you doing?” you sit up, scanning the puce bruise under her eye through your blurry vision, framing her bloodshot and revenge-driven pupils.

she’s silent for a little, as you rub your eyes and try to regain consciousness from your heavy sleep. she’s wondering if she should tell you this truth, but she knows you’re not stupid.

“i have to find her..”

she seems cold, distant, too numb to remember everything you had both built. it’s hard to see her go down this route, this isn’t your ellie.

“so.. you were gonna.. what? sneak out?” you slowly rise to your feet, tilting your head in challenging. “you were gonna leave me here? i’ll be waiting here for months.. when i could just go with you?”

i think this was the first time where ellie found something she hated about you. your ambition, your selflessness, your urges to wrap her in cotton wool. she wished you could just.. listen.. please listen. even though she knew you were so capable, you took charge of the ground you were on, domesticated it.

but her gut feeling told her something was off. you can’t come with her.

“i just.. no offence, but.. you haven’t exactly been the most helpful recently.” she mumbles, and she hopes you don’t hear. she can’t bear to look at you, your narrowed eyes hammering into her relentlessly. “what are you saying?” you contest, “you think everything revolves around you, ellie.”

and it was a spiteful comment from you, you know that. but it gives ellie some courage to look back at you, eyes of conflict. “you’re not like me, you don’t have to do all this shit. you have nobody.”

you bite back your malicious words, eyes shutting to adjust your temper. “i’ve done this, ellie. i was just asking to go wi-“

“i don’t want you with me.” she interrupts, and it’s then that you find something you hate about her. ellie’s always blinded by rage, she likes getting her point across, cutting you off. “it’s just gonna slow everything down, i’ll be here qu-“

“slow you down? me?”

“fuck me. this is the thing, you think you’re something special because you’ve done this and that-“

“woah, i do not think i’m-“

“yes, you do! i see through all of..” she gestures to your body, and you look down at the scars on your arms, the slices on your hands. “all of that. you think it’s made you all strong and mighty, you aren’t shit.”

“ellie, respectively, you’d struggle making it there alone even if you had five hands and six legs.”

and when the insults bounced back and forth, you decided to sit out on the porch. it’s quiet, an owl hooting amongst the stifled streets of jackson, snowflakes settling on the ground.

after half an hour, you hear the door open, her bag shuffling against the wooden floor as she sits beside you. she’s not good with apologies, and you’d find it cute if she hadn’t annihilated your self-esteem just now.

her eyes are fixed to an invisible point in the floor, and she’s testing the waters, her breath misty with every exhale. you feel her reluctant eyes on you, as she bites her lip out of newfound anxiety. “i wanted to say sorry.. i said some nasty things..” she mumbles, looking ahead at the streetlights and the hushed streets of jackson. “you deserve the world. i wish.. i could give it to you..”

you look at her, feeling your insides marshmallow up inside with her endearing and sincere words. her eyes are overflowing with apology, and you nod at her, grateful. “i’m sorry, too. i didn’t.. mean anything i said.”

she processes your words, eyebrows peaked, as if she’s melting with your apology. “i know..” she whispers, shuffling beside you and her lips planting a remorseful kiss on your shoulder. “i love you..”

you feel sedated under her touch, your lids low as she brings her lips from your shoulder to your forehead, pecking it fondly. and so you whisper back that you love her too. it feels like home to her, confirmation that the relationship between you is okay.

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · · · · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · · · · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

idaho falls was stop number one. it’s hard to believe tommy had made his way through it alone.

ellie was focused on eastlake, that was the golden ticket. although she was affectionate enough to put her hand on your waist on horseback, or send you quick reassuring nods, she was rather inanimate. you can’t blame her, you’d be the same.

“bastard things..” you huff, trudging through the disarray of infected corpses, trying to retrieve your knife, lodged deep inside a clicker’s shroomy neck.

you’re both blood-soaked, heavy breathing from the ambush. you’d gotten used to shivving through large groups like this, but it was game over when you’d set off nail bombs. it was as if the whole town had came alive and started sprinting at you, screeching and cackling.

“what are you doing?” ellie mumbles when she sees you look through a dusty bag that had seemingly fused into the clicker. “there’s no way you’re actually looking.” she releases a breathy laugh, wiping her eyes with her sleeve.

“you never know, it’s how i found one of my daggers.” you look at her defensively, fingers carefully diving into the bag, only to find a crumpled letter and a lighter. “i mean.. these guys used to be people, ellie. with hobbies, and memories and people who cared about them.” you mumble under your breath, “if someone ever found me like this, they’d have a fucking field day going through my pockets.”

“don’t say that.” she sighs, eyes softening as you rise to your feet. she’s trying not to imagine it. “besides, remember your whole i don’t die talk yesterday? if anything, it’s your ego that’ll get you killed.” she smirks, and you’re a little surprised. because it’s the first time in a while ellie’s taking intuition to lighten the mood with some playful banter between you.

you return a subtle smile when you remember the conversation from yesterday, wiping your knife clean against your shirt, watching the muddy blood smear the fabric.

e: “if you die, i’m gonna be so fucking furious with yo-“

“i don’t die.”

e: “whatever, fine. don’t disappear on me then.”

“yeah, i don’t disappear either.”

fuck, she loved you so bad. even the cockiness, the snark, the things that made you such a smartass. but as she watches you wipe the blood off the knife, her smile just.. suddenly drops. her usual barbaric eyes are blank and cluelessly staring at you all of a sudden.

you think she’s daydreaming, or maybe thought of a bad memory.

“what’s with you?” she thinks she’s seeing wrong, because it’s not possible. there’s no way.

denial.

“ellie..? what is it..?” you watch as her eyes start brimming, a glassy reflection of sorrow pinned to your hands. she approaches reluctantly, before she takes it in hers, and tilts it. whilst she’s used to seeing your usual scars and slashes, she’s not used to the fresh bite mark, fungal teeth that have torn your skin.

you stare, your hand piping hot and starting to tremor. because there’s not much for her to imagine anymore, it’s reality.

it’s nobody’s fault. you didn’t feel it, the adrenaline helped block it out. you hadn’t even realised one had gotten that close to you. “i didn’t.. but i didn’t feel it..” you blink in refusal, trying to remember if you’d felt it, when you’d felt it.

“i told you. i fucking told you to stay. and you just, don’t fucking listen.” her voice cracks, hands clenching into wrathful fists. she can’t believe you’ve been bulletproof all these years, untouchable, survived wounds from the neck; the head, every limb. yet a measly bite was all it took.

anger.

maybe you’re immune, you’re like her. maybe it’s a mistake, you didn’t get bitten at all. maybe if she’d fucking knocked you unconscious and left before you had woken up, you’d be okay.

bargaining.

“ellie. listen.. it’s not your fault.” you state bluntly to her, cupping her face in your hands. she struggles to hear through the stressful ringing in her ears, it’s as if she’s already screaming on the inside. “ellie.. can you hear me?” you ask when you notice her eyes go blank for a second, eyebrows furrowing with confusion. it feels as if she’s exiting her body, pretending it’s not real.

“ellie.. listen. i don’t know when this shit is gonna kick in, but when it does. i need you to think straight.. okay..” you explain to her, noticing the life in her eyes revive only slightly as she reads your lips. “you need to think straight, because i won’t be.”

and she slowly nods, blinking through the tears.

she decided to wait it out with you, she’s not sure why, it’s not like you were going to get better. by the second hour, your vision was pixelated, violet blurs that you try to blink away as you look at the sculptures around you.

it’s a museum, and you smile slightly.

“always wanted to visit one of these.” you slump into the leather chair, head aching and eyes feeling as though they’re being hammered from the inside. ellie kept her distance for the first hour, regretful eyes that scan you - your skin is glistening with sweat, and she doesn’t think you notice how your limbs keep twitching.

you look at her, eyebrows arched as you spin your karambit between your fingers. “talk to me.. please, ellie..” you plead quietly, noticing she hasn’t said a single word. she’s void, a mourning shell.

she ambles towards you, hands out as she delicately takes your arm, tilting your hand to inspect the wound. “let me look..” she whispers, as if she’s still trying to convince herself it isn’t real. but how can she, when your hand is ice cold, stripped of its usual warmth?

by the third hour, ellie could tell you were really struggling. really struggling. you had kept asking her to repeat what she said, when she hadn’t said anything - you’re hallucinating, it feels like you’re going crazy.

“baby..” you hear her murmur through the deafening ring in your ears. “please.. please tell me it’s a joke.. you’re fucking with me..?” she clears her throat, releasing a breathy laugh. “please.. i’m fucking begging you, say you’re just messing with me..”

her fingers intertwined with yours as she kneels infront of you, on her knees, helpless. “i.. don’t make me do this.. i can’t.” she can’t see through the puddles in her eyes, it feels like she’s talking to herself.

because she knows she has to stop this, your misery, your suffering. she has to walk away and make peace with the fact she did it for you.

“you’re gonna be fine, ellie. people like you always are..” you whisper breathlessly, your lungs feel useless, paralysed by something growing inside.

“ellie..” your lids are low, eyes morbidly rolling to her, feeling heavy and strenuous. you’re so fatigued, seeing ellie’s bloodshot eyes and her cheeks raw and worn from the constant rubbing of her tears. she maintains eye contact, shuffling closer until her forehead presses against yours.

her lashes are dark and thick, and she closes her bleary eyes. you used to cup her face when she’d press her forehead against yours, but you’re so cold, and limp, and lifeless.

“give those bastards hell.”

and it took until the fifth hour - until you were unresponsive, until you’d start begging her with pained tears to end it - that she’d muster up the courage to let go of your hands, give you a graceful kiss on the forehead,

“i love you..” she’d choke back a sob, lips against your forehead, “you.. you are.. the most magnificent person.. i have ever met..”

and shakily aim at your head, pistol quivering in her hand as her finger rests along the trigger.

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · · · · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · · · · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

jackson, wyoming. blissful summer, two years later, the grass dehydrated.

she’d be kicking at the dry ground, scraping her converse against the cracked mud simmering under the heat. she needed air, time to think, to dilute her thoughts. she’d cut her hair recently, it hurt. you fucking loved the half-up half-down, and she knew it.

it feels like she’s erasing you, which aggravates her. it wasn’t just the hair, or the sound the scissors made when she cut the tiny ponytail off, or watching the strands streamline down the sink. it was dina’s confession, and constantly taking out the roll bag you kept your knives in when she felt strong enough, only to quickly roll it back up and hide it in her drawers when she realised she wasn’t.

but she’s done well recently, she’s sleeping more, dreaming less; eating bigger portions, and she’s able to look people in the eyes. her dead rabbit lays beside the stream, bow slung over her lanky shoulders.

she kicks against something solid, slowly kneeling when she realises it’s caved in the ruptures of the ground. there’s a metallic glint as she tilts her head, digging into the parched earth and slowly dragging it out.

“still waiting for my first butterfly knife.”

“butterfly? yeah.. good luck..”

it clicks in her hand, her fingers trying to rub off stains of mud, and she sighs. she sees your face, pretty lashes fanning your cheeks, the echo of your laughter when she’d kiss at the ticklish areas of your body.

“so.. how does this work?” she looks at you, knife in hand.

“you see that red thing right there? you throw the knife at it.” you point at the target on the wall, crossing your arms as you inspect her.

“wow.. so helpful, baby..” she murmurs under her breath, before she adjusts her shot, and throws the knife at the wall. it lands beside the red bullseye, a decent throw.

“wow. that was..” you start, eyebrows arched as if you’re impressed. she feels a gratified smile pull her cheeks upwards as you walk towards the wall, clutching at the knife’s handle before pulling it out. “ass. go again.”

you were beautiful. she’ll never love like that again.

and so she slowly tucks the knife back into the ground, respectively concealing it in the soil, it feels as if she’s burying you within these meadows - letting go of you a final time.

acceptance.

[luveline]

Hello Jade! I have a request for hotch if that’s okay, I was thinking something like he’s dating sunshine!reader who goes to a police precinct with the team and the sheriff/deputy insults Hotch in front of her (maybe she’s not part of the BAU so he doesn’t realise she knows Hotch?) and she snaps and punches him/pushes him to the ground and afterwards she’s really quiet and refusing to tell anyone what happened cause she doesn’t want Hotch to hear that people were bad mouthing him. Everyone is confused cause she’s usually so bubbly and it’s disconcerting to see her so stern but she has to protect her man damnit 😤

(Ps I’m the anon who got confused about rules n you’re right I was looking under guidelines not requests 🤦🏼‍♀️ sorry!)

hi babe, thank you for your request! (and no worries at all, no sorry necessary!!)

—hotch is dumbfounded when you slap a deputy sheriff, but you have your heartfelt reasons. fem, 2k

You're not specifically BAU, but when Hotch calls, you answer. You don't look BAU either in your skirt with your blue laptop carry case; twice you're asked what you're doing in the precinct and if you need assistance, but eventually you get to the centre of the action upstairs, meandering through the detective's desks toward a conference room with a sticky-taped sign that says to knock before entering. 

"Hey, Spencer," you say, shouldering open the door. "They leave you behind?" 

Spencer turns away from his white board. "I'm more useful here right now. Did you bring the ethernet cable for Garcia?"

You put your laptop case on the table and pull out her desired cable. "Where is she?" It's hard-pressed for Penelope to be found anywhere away from her computer during case times. You must get twenty or more rejection emails a month from your fellow tech analysist. Sorry, working a case :'( 

"Bathroom. There's a kitchen if you need coffee. You have a badge?" 

You flash your visitor's badge at him. "Get you one?" 

"Four sugars. Thanks, L/N." 

You flash him a smile. The kitchen is back the way you came and to the right. It's nowhere near big enough for the workforce, three tables and one microwave next to a sink full of mugs. You smile at anyone who looks at you and beeline for a coffee pot. No one questions you. They must be used to outsiders invading their space this week. 

"Mean fucking guy." 

You tilt your head to the side, hand paused in their cup cabinet above the sink. You shouldn't be nosy, but they're not being very quiet, either.

"He has to be mean, I guess. That's a tight ship to run," says a second voice.

"I'd understand it if I thought they were getting somewhere. It's been four days, and between the string bean and his pushpin map and that tech girl who won't shut up? They're doomed. The boss is either too stubborn or too damn stupid to realise." 

You close the cabinet and turn around. 

"I fucking hate this shit. Ties in their suit jackets coming into our investigation and chasing the wrong leads. We could've had Miller in cuffs two days ago if Hotchner hadn't shut us down, two days ago! And now another kid is dead, and there's not a drop of remorse on him. He doesn't care about doing his job, he–" 

"He what?" you ask. Your heart is beating hard before you've so much as parted your lips, your hands trembling. You screw them into tight balls. 

"Excuse me?" 

Your opposition is a rough hewn man in a deputies badge, a cup of coffee held between two paws. He narrows thick salt and pepper brows at your question, his mouth screwed into a telling snarl. 

"You think Agent Hotchner doesn't care about his job? So why is he here? Why did he agree to take the case?" 

"Who the fuck are you?" 

You shake your head in annoyance and take the FBI badge from your little cross body bag. You toss it on the table, your beaming face looking up at him a juxtaposition to the glare you wear now. 

He stands up from his table. The lunch room hushes but the riot of precinct cacophony stays strong just outside of the door, a thrum that battles your roaring heart. You're so angry you can barely speak, and it'll only get worse. 

"I'm sorry you have to hear it from me, darling, I am, but your boss out there? Agent Hotchner?" The deputy scoffs. "He's a fool running blind. He turned away from the real issue here. He's a prideful, narcissistic idiot who's let the power of his paycheck get to his head, and as far as I'm concerned? So long as he stops us from arresting Jaden Miller? He's a murderer, too. The blood is on his hands." 

You know you're going to slap him from the moment he says 'murderer', but the knee to his crotch straight after is a surprise even to yourself. All you're thinking for one horrible white-hot moment is How can I hurt him? It's shameful, and you slam your knee up a second time anyhow. 

—

"You can tell me what happened now or later, but it's going to be much easier on you if you tell me now." 

Hotch hates this part. What he wouldn't give to have someone else here to reprimand you. He understands why Gideon left and he wouldn't want him back unwillingly, but Hotch thinks your nightly phone call may go over smoother tonight if it were Gideon standing in his place. Half the time Hotch finds he's uninterested in scolding you. It's why you stay firmly in your department and away from his bias in the BAU. He can't be optimal at his job while you're around. 

It's not limited to telling you off, of course. When you're near, he wants to act like it. He wants to take your hand, hold your arm, rub a palm between your shoulders. He wants to pull you into his lap, or pinch the soft lobe of your ear between his fingers to watch you shiver, blow warm air at the back of your neck to hear your laugh. This cold silence is his worst nightmare, but he can't cross the line. 

Well, he can't cross the line too much. 

In the privacy of a cordoned, borrowed office, Hotch can sit beside you. The blinds are closed, and his intimidation act wasn't getting him anywhere anyways. More flies with honey than vinegar. 

"I can't show favouritism here, do you understand? Especially when you're being physically violent against the deputy sheriff." Hotch watches the soft pillow of your bottom lip tremble in a private terror. "I know you wouldn't do this for no reason. I know. Give me a reason to take your side and I will." 

"I don't want to talk about it." 

"Did he say something inappropriate?" 

You don't answer.

"Did he?" Hotch can feel the anger he's been pushing down start to rise. When a woman like you, happy-go-lucky, pretty, and always smiling, turns to violence, it's not hard to picture why. He knows full well the horrible things a man can say to a woman. "Please, trust me to take care of this." 

"Hotch, I really don't want to talk about this. You can reprimand me, send me home." 

"No. Tell me what he said." 

You glare at him. Hotch finds with a heart-skipping hurt that it's the first time he's been on the receiving end of your disdain. "No. I don't want to." 

"And I don't want to send you home." He knows how he looks, stony-eyed and furrowed brow. He has to try hard to relax into a more neutral expression. "I won't. Not when I know you'd never hurt someone." 

"Well, I did." 

"We all do things we don't mean to in anger." 

In the quiet, he can hear Emily asking loud questions about what happened, and her almost comedic gasp as someone informs her of the situation. Morgan couldn't find the words to tell Hotch over the phone what happened, just told him to hurry back, and it was doubly difficult to get the story out of Spencer, who'd been the one responsible for standing in your way. 

"He called her a bitch," Spencer told him. "I didn't want to hold her back after that." 

The sheriff deputy has a good hundred pounds on you, so no matter what he called you, Hotch is glad you were pulled away. 

Hearing that you'd been called a bitch set his nerves aflame. When Spencer explained that this was said by a man on his knees after a swift jab to the crotch, Hotch was more confused. 

He follows a whim. He's biassed for sure, but he knows you're the most beautiful woman in any room that you walk into. It doesn't shock him that a high-ranking authority figure would take advantage of his position to make a pass at you. 

"You have nothing to be ashamed of," he says softly. "Whatever he said to you, I– I'm not supposed to support violence, but I understand if it got too much. Sexual harassment is unjustifiable, and I'll stand with you and your actions completely." 

"He didn't harass me, Aaron," you say, looking down at your knees. You're wearing dark stockings, pinching at the fabric distractedly. 

"Did he touch you?" 

"No, Aaron–" You sigh frustratedly. "I don't want to tell you what he said because it's not true." 

"He insulted you?" 

"He insulted you." You glance at him and then away. "I couldn't stand it." 

If there weren't cameras in the room he'd bundle you into his arms and kiss the slope of your cheek, because how is he supposed to handle this? You're hitting people when they talk bad about him now? 

Hotch doesn't need to ask to know it was bad. You're a well-meaning, well-adjusted person. You'd hardly hit somebody for calling Hotch a jerk. Something severe would've been said to have pushed you over the edge, but, to his detriment, Hotch has heard a thousand awful things about himself from a thousand different mouths, and he doesn't worry about what it was. 

"Alright. Listen to me carefully." Your shoulders stiffen. "I don't want you hurting people over me. I don't need you to defend me. I don't want you to fight my battles for me, and I certainly don't want you assaulting people on my behalf." 

Your lip again begins to tremble. "I'm sorry." 

"No. Don't be sorry." He covers your knee in his hand gently, ducking his head to meet your glassy eyes. He's gone about this the wrong way, upsetting you unnecessarily. He rushes to correct it. "I love that you want to defend me, I love that you did, and it isn't lost on me how much it means to have you at my side, but… You could have been seriously injured. Honey, picking on someone your own size is a double-sided coin. What if the deputy hit you back?" 

"I'm not afraid of getting hurt." 

He leans down more, imploring, desperate to be heard. "I'm afraid of you getting hurt. Me. I'm worried someone's going to hurt you when I'm not around." 

"He was saying all this stuff about you and it wasn't true–" 

"It's okay," he says, shaking his head slowly from one side to another. "It doesn't matter. I know what people like him think of me, and he's not in an easy position." He drops his voice to a murmur for your ears alone. "I'm not saying you should agree with him, I can't tell you that I like him much." 

You laugh weakly, the sound quickly melding to a sniffle. "I'm sorry, Aaron. I shouldn't have hit him. I don't know what came over me." 

"We get angry for the people we care about." 

He can't kiss you, really, not at work, but he can show you some heavy affection. It's a boundary crossed. Luckily, Hotch knows you won't report him. 

"Thank you for defending me. You can stay on the case if you promise not to do it again," he says, squeezing your smaller hand in his, drawing a lopsided heart with his thumb into the back of it. 

"I'll promise not to do it again if he promises to keep his stupid mouth closed," you mutter. 

"Is it wrong of me to like this version of you?" he says. 

You look him straight in the eye, your usual lightness restored, if dimmed just a touch. "I like all your versions, Agent Hotchner." 

"Good. Remind the version that's your boyfriend to treat you accordingly tonight. Okay?" 

You nod emphatically, both relieved and chastened. "Okay. Thanks, handsome." 

You look tired. Tonight, he'll kiss you like he means it, maybe a touch too rough but apparently you're a hard ass now who can handle it, and he'll hold you close even if he can't give you the attention you deserve until the case is done. He'll make sure you know how much he appreciates your protection, rub your back for hours just the way you like it while sleep fails. 

"You're welcome," he says. He has more to say but there's no more time to waste. There's still work to be done. 

It'll come easier with you at his side, he's sure. 

[heartfullofleeches]

What if darling orders from a different restaurant and brie coincidentally arrives right when the actual delivery person does? I feel like he'd be jealous af

Yan "Pizza Boy" + Reader

-

Who is that-

Arriving at your street, tires screech to a hault as your home rolls into view. The driver takes a second look. Then a third - knuckles white as fingers clench around the steering wheel.

A car he's never seen before sits in the little parking spot outside your house. His parking spot. Some old, beat up hatchback painted the ugliest shade of blue he'd ever seen - tape covering its left tail light and bumper held on by zip ties. By now, the delivery boy has made enough visits to your home to recognize cars of your friends and loved ones. Who is this? The flickering sign atop the rusting hunk of metal lifted some of the weight from his shoulders - only to crush him with a new fear as the other driver casual steps out of his vehicle, carrying bag strapped to his shoulder.

"Oh, hell no-"

Brie curses under his breath - pulling into your neighbor's driveway with one hand on the wheel as he reaches into the passenger seat with the other. He quickly gathers his things, kicking the driver's side door open as he goes to exit - hissing in frustration as his seat belt digs into the flesh of his neck. He unbuckles himself, shutting the door behind him with the heel of his sneaker as he races across your neighbor's yard. He slows down to carefully step over their hedges right as the other delivery person reaches your porch. Brie curses again-

"Oh my God! There's someone hiding in the back of that blue car with the dirty windows!"

The delivery person runs off back to their car. With little time to celebrate his victory, Brie marches up to your front door and rings the doorbell. You looked surprised - yet oddly happy to see him. His heart flutters.

"You?"

Brie beans from ear to ear "Yup! It's me! Got another pizza for you here. Same as the last."

"Thank you, but I already ordered from someplace else. Couldn't find anywhere nearby with alfredo sauce pizza so I had to settle for the usual."

You were looking for him?.... The place he works for that is. Brie shoves the box against your chest, biting down the scream ready to escape. "Don't worry, this one's on the house too. We're still experimenting with the recipe so it isn't available on our menu yet. I'm sure my boss will be happy to hear you enjoyed it."

"Well... Since it's free I guess it wouldn't hurt to take it off your hands. Won't have to order out for a week at this rate. Do you have a number I can reach you at?"

Multiple issues could arise from giving you his personal number - Brie was too excited to dwell on future problems when he had your attention now.

"Sure! Do you have a pen and paper?"

In the time it takes you to retrieve said items the other delivery person returns. He looks at Brie, a flicker of recognition in his eyes as he inspects his face.

"Hey... Aren't you-"

"Their boyfriend attacked a guy once."

The delivery driver looks taken aback. "What did you say?"

"I had a friend who worked at this one other pizza place. He had a black eye the last time we met. Said the person with the exact address had a scary looking boyfriend who thought he was flirting with them. He moved last we and I think I know why."

Brie's smile widen as the wobble in the other man's voice. "Hey, man... It's not cool to joke like that. If you're trying to scare me off you'll have to try harder than that."

"If that's what you want-"

Brie drops the conversation there. No point in wasting any more of his precious time - not with you standing there, pen and a small notepad in hand.

"Thank you~" Brie scribbles down his number, tearing off a page of paper beneath the one he wrote on as he hands the notepad back to you - pen still in his possession. With other matters to attend to, asking for it back was the last thing on your mind as you then turn to properly greet the other driver. Brie turns on his heels and makes his way down your driveway, checking over his shoulder as he drops the pen off the sidewalk - watching it roll by the rear bumper of the car.

"Whoops- Looks l dropped my pen."

Brie crotches down to grab the pen, eyes scanning the dented license plate as his fingers graze the pen. He picks it up, jotting down the license plate on the scrap of paper as he stands and walks off in the direction of his car.

One light broken is bad enough. He wonders how that other driver's boss would feel with all four smashed.

[babywriter]

You were making yourself a sandwich when a beautiful woman wearing only a shirt and underwear came in. Strangely, her underwear consisted of a very thick purple diaper.

“Hum, excuse me?” you said. Not that you minded beautiful women walking into your house, but strangers are strangers.

“Yes?” she answered.

“Who are you?”

“What?”

“Who are you?” you said louder.

“I’m me?” She looked genuinely confused.

“What is your name?” perhaps she was a little slow.

“Jean?” She answered very slowly, as if you were the stupid one.

“Last name?”

“Billings?” You did know a Gene Billings, your roommate, but the thing with your roommate was that he was a man and this was a woman.

“He brought you home last night?” which confused you, because Gene hadn’t gone out last night.

“Who?”

“Gene.”

“I am Jean.” she said.

“Ok, this isn’t leading anywhere. What’s your real name? Where’s Gene?”

“There isn’t any other Jean, I am Jean! Why are you doing this?"

You had enough of this and went to Gene’s room, where he probably was anyway, or so you thought until you opened the door. Because this was definitely not Gene’s room. This was the room of a grown woman. 

“Ah, I get it. Trying some roleplay?” said Jean behind you. “It’s okay, I can do that.” And suddenly her hands were all over your chest. She pushed you towards her bed and unzipped your pants.

“I’m really sorry, mister. I just came in because I was thirsty.” she said.

“Hey, hey, what are you doing?” you said weakly so that she wouldn’t really hear you.

“Oh, mister, it’s so big!” Her every touch was electric. And when she put it in her mouth, your limbs couldn’t help but spasm immediately.

“Mmm.” She said with her mouth full. “Thank you, mister.” She swallowed. “I feel much better now.” She stood up while you were laying on the bed, panting. 

“I just love sucking.” she said while rummaging through her drawers. “It’s great. Bet you loved it too, uh?”

“Yeah.”

“So, now we’re just going to diaper you and get rid of that little manhood of yours and we’ll be done!”

“What?” But it was too late. By the time she said it, a thick white diaper was already getting taped to your bottom.

You felt the effects immediately. Your breasts, thighs and hair were growing while other things were most definitely disappearing. Like your chest hair. After about a minute, you forgot you ever were a man.

“Thanks for the change, Jean.” You said.

“No problem.”

“So, that guy you were talking about?”

“Daddy? Yeah, he said he’d be willing to let BOTH of us do it. We could even move in with him.”

“I don’t want to move in with a guy.” you said. “I’d rather stay single to get ALL the guys.”

“Fair point. Men sure do like girls in diapers, don’t they?"

Photo credit: @littlestkittenxx

For more stories by me:

[unfinishedslurs]

party king (steddie)

“You want me to what?”

“Go to a party with me,” Eddie says, looking at Steve like he’s the weirdo here. “What’s the big deal, King Steve? You’ve been to plenty of parties.”

“You know, no one actually called me that,” Steve tells him, abandoning his tapes to put his hands on his hips. “Billy started it. I think he just wanted people to call him a king.”

Eddie visibly considers this before nodding, like it makes sense. Which it does. Billy was, in Steve’s private thoughts, an egotistical maniac who needed to calm down.

May he rest in peace.

“But you’ll come to the party with me, right?”

“Give it up, Eddie,” Robin calls from where she’s rewinding tapes. “Steve hasn’t been to a party in forever. He’s basically a grandpa now.”

“Hey!” Steve objects. That’s rich, coming from her. Going to bed at nine some nights so he gets a few more hours of sleep before waking up in a cold sweat does not make him a grandpa. It just makes him traumatized  

“Steeeeeeeve,” Eddie whines, widening his eyes until it looks like they’re going to pop out of his sockets. His exaggerated pout isn't going to do him any favors either. No matter what the kids say behind his back (looking at you, Henderson) he isn't a pushover.

“Why would I want to go to a high school party?” He crosses his arms, leaning against the counter. “I graduated. I have better things to do with my time.”

“Like lose arcade games to freshmen?” Robin asks. He flips her the bird.

“Please, Steve?” Eddie asks. “Pretty please? Pretty pretty please, with cherries and whipped cream and six little nuggets on top?”

“What the hell are you even saying anymore?”

“You want him to eat his babies?” Robin shrieks. “Like Kronos? Is one of them going to cut off his head and free the rest?”

Eddie’s eyes light up, and Steve slaps a hand over his mouth. He doesn’t know who that guy is, and he doesn’t want to deal with the two of them chattering over whatever movie villain he’s assuming is in their weird cult classic films when he still doesn’t know why Eddie is asking him to this party.

He doesn’t even flinch when Eddie licks his hand.

“I’ve been slobbered on by actual monsters,” he says flatly. “Your spit has zero effect on me.”

Eddie bats his eyes and gives his palm a kiss, right where he’d laved his tongue. Steve rolls his eyes and wipes his hand on the side of Eddie’s face.

“Hey!”

“Don’t dish what you can’t take,” Steve says. “Now, why exactly am I getting asked to go to a high school party?”

“Jessica Roberts needs some kush, and she asked me to sell there.”

“Okay? Still not answering my question.”

“There’s gonna be jocks at the party,” Eddie finally confesses, “and I don’t know if they’ll try shit. But given my track record lately…”

“So you need a bodyguard?”

“Hey!” Steve shouts, and is summarily ignored by everyone. So he does what any normal person would do, and slams an abandoned beer bottle against the edge of the counter so it shatters. 

The jocks turn and look at him after that.

Steve glances down at the jagged edges of the bottle in his hands, flipping it like it’s his old ice cream scoop. Yeah, this should work. 

“Leave him alone,” he says, steely inflection to his voice. 

“Or what, Harrington?” One of them asks. “Heard you just been sittin’ in this room all night. What, you hanging around the queers now? Didn’t take you for a f-”

He stops talking when Steve grabs him by the hair and presses the broken bottle against his throat.

“Here’s what's gonna happen,” he says quietly, taking a look at his buddy. He’s let go of Eddie, a lot more spooked now that his friend is shaking in his Nike’s. “You’re going to leave this room. You’re going to leave Munson here alone. You’re not going to bother him, or anyone else in his dragon club ever again. If I hear that you or your little friends are fucking with him, I have a very nice nail-studded baseball bat in my trunk I’d be more than happy to introduce you to. Capisce?”

“Woah, woah, woah,” the guy that was holding Eddie says. “What the hell, Harrington?”

Steve doesn’t break eye contact with the guy he’s threatening. “Capisce?” He asks again, putting a little more force into the word.

“C-capisce.”

“Good,” he says, shoving him away. “Now get outta here.”

They scramble away. Steve walks over to the trash can and throws away the remains of the bottle, running a hand through his hair. He finally turns around to see Eddie staring at him with wide eyes, frozen.

“Sorry-”

“Fuck me.”

“What?”

Eddie’s entire face flushes, like he didn’t mean to say that. “Uh.”

Steve looks at him, and then around the kitchen they’re in. Glass and beer on the floor, music blasting loud enough to set him on edge, a crowd of people that look at him like a zoo exhibit. Fuck, his head hurts. 

“Yeah, okay,” he decides. “We’re going to mine, though.”

“Wh-what?” Eddie looks like a deer in headlights, even though Steve’s offering exactly what he asked. 

“I…have no idea what I’m doing,” Eddie confesses. 

“Oh, are you not…” He trails off, gesturing towards Eddie’s back pocket. “I assumed…”

Eddie laughs abruptly, slapping a hand over his mouth like he startled himself with it. “You know hanky code, Harrington?”

“Can you call me Steve when you’re in my bed?” He’s already got his shirt off, for God’s sake. “Listen, man, if you don’t want this, it’s no biggie.” He starts to get off, and Eddie’s hand clamps over his thigh. 

“No, no, no, don’t you dare. Just gimme a minute, I’m processing.”

“Processing,” he repeats flatly. 

“Yes, processing. I’ve got the guy of my extremely virginal wet dreams shirtless on top of me. I did not think this would ever happen. I didn’t even know you were queer until tonight.”

Steve’s mouth shapes into an “o” of understanding. “You’re a virgin?”

“Jesus, could you focus on anything else I said?”

“You dream about me?”

“Let’s go back to the virgin part.” His fingers start nervously tapping against Steve’s leg. 

“You’re not subtle,” Steve says flatly. “I know when you stare at my ass.”

Eddie colors in a flood of bright red. “What if I wasn’t? What if I was…uh, jealous or something?”

“I guess that’d make sense, since you’re flat as a board.”

“Wh—hey!”

[ddejavvu]

Steve telling robin about this girl who he’s spoken to a few times and reallly wants to ask out and she’s a big hype man for his love quest. But then he comes in one day to see robin very innocently flirting with you bc she doesn’t know you’re the girl Steve’s talking about. So queue shenanigans of him trying to get robin away in anyway that won’t make you think he’s weird, but maybe he’s going to trip her over or something so he can tell her that’s you and she can be his wingman instead, just a funny shenanigans plot haha

Steve doesn't think twice about the bell to the shop tinkling over the door from where he's rewinding tapes in the back. He watches the picture rapidly flit from scene to scene of Pretty in Pink, until the credits appear and he ejects the VHS from the player. He slides it into its sleeve, but then he hears your voice, a sound that breaks him out of the monotony of his job, and has his feet moving towards the door of their own accord.

He rushes out to the counter, cursing himself for letting Robin take the counter for this shift. You usually come later, so he'd been prepared to swap with her before 5PM, but it's 3 now and you're chatting jovially over the counter with her.

"Your bracelet is gorgeous," She croons, and there's something more-than-friendly about the way she cradles your wrist in her hand to admire it, "It suits you really well."

"Aw, thank you!" You gush, grinning at her, "I called ahead to reserve The Goonies, Steve said he'd put it behind the counter?"

He had put it behind the counter. He'd set aside cash there, too, because he was going to pay your rental fee, and when you'd thank him for it, he was going to say that it was no big deal. But that if you wanted, you could come over to his place to watch it? And he'd pay for pizza too, you wouldn't have to worry about that. So when Robin reaches for the movie, Steve jumps into action.

"Oh, yeah! Here it is," Robin grabs the tape from where it's tucked beneath Steve's jacket near the trash can, "Okay, $1.99 for the rental fee, and you'll have to pay another $0.99 for every day after this Friday that you keep it."

"Actually, Rob," Steve rushes to the counter, cheeks slightly flushed as you turn to watch him, "Uh, I can take this one."

"I got it," She stares awkwardly at him, hand already reaching for the two dollar bills you're handing her

"Uh, no I- I need your help in the back," He jerks a thumb towards the rewind room, "Would you-? I'll- we'll be right back," He smiles at you, gripping her bicep and tugging her away from the counter before she can take your money, "Just give me a second!"

"Dude!" She hisses the moment the door is shut, "What's the matter with you? I totally could have handled that!"

"That's the girl I was telling you about," Steve gushes, his eyes wide and his hands tense at his sides, "I- You can't flirt with the girl I like!'

Her eyes widen momentarily, and her shoulders sag, "Oh, Steve, I didn't know. Okay, uh- alright, you can ring her up. God, why do you always call dibs on the pretty ones?"

"Thanks, Robin," Steve grins, patting her on the shoulder as he rushes for the door. He jogs back to the counter, matching your kind smile with his own where you've set your $2 on the counter.

"Hey, uh, no worries," He stands at the cash register, pushing your bills back towards you and pulling out his own, "I got this one."

Your brows furrow, "Wait- you...? No, I got it! Steve, I'll pay for it, it's okay."

"Don't worry about it!' He insists, pointedly ignoring the way you're holding the cash up for him and sticking his own bills in the register, "I just- I thought that, uh, it would be nice if you came over to my place to watch it. Tonight. Or- or some other night, if tonight doesn't work. But I-," He stammers, grinning sweetly at you, "I can pay."

Your eyes soften, and the hand with the money in it sags. Your confused frown morphs into a smile, "I'd love to come over, Steve. Tonight doesn't work, I'm babysitting." You lament, "But I'm free tomorrow, if you are?"

Steve has a closing shift tomorrow.

"Yeah, no I'm- I'm free." He nods vigorously, already thinking about what food he can bribe Robin with to switch her hours with his tomorrow, "Uh, I can come pick you up at six?"

"Six-thirty," You bargain, and he hands you the tape with a smile and a nod, "Thanks, Steve."

"Yeah, anytime! See you then!" He calls after you as you head for the door, and he waits until you're safely out of the parking lot to rush for the back room, not wanting you to see his desperation.

"She said yes!" He practically shouts, scaring Robin so much that she drops the tape she's holding. It shatters on the ground, plastic spewing over the scratchy carpet, and she shares a horrified glance with Steve.

"Shit. Uh," He stammers, floundering for a solution that won't cost him more than his allowance, "I'll buy a blank tape, just- stick it in there and don't tell anyone. Here," He digs in his pocket, pulling out a ten dollar bill he'd planned to use for gas, "Take this, that's, like, $4 for the tape and $6 for dinner tomorrow night, you're closing."

"I don't have a closing-" She starts, her brows furrowing, then her eyes narrow and she fixes him with an unimpressed stare.

"Really?"

"She wants to meet tomorrow!" Steve insists, running a hand through his hair, "Just- take the cash, Rob. Plus, you owe me one," He reasons, "You flirted with my girl."

"She's not your girl," Robin gripes, but she's more than happy to take the money, "Just be glad I'm an easy bribe, doofus."

[thissortofsorcery]

I can so imagine a scenario where Billy and Steve have been screwing around for months, like months, and while Billy has plenty of experience with sex, he’s never slept with anyone quite like Steve.

Steve who holds his hand during sex, Steve who gets off on Billy’s pleasure, Steve who kisses him before and after and during, who likes cuddling, who doesn’t avoid being seen with Billy at all and actually starts hanging out with Billy at school and out of it, who invites him to play basketball in the park and to get food after, and to stay over at his house like every weekend.

Naturally, Billy thinks they’re dating.

But they never talk about it. Somehow, for months of this, it never comes up in conversation how to define their relationship. It’s not exactly necessary, both of them being content as they are with what they have with each other. Whatever they think it is.

Until, of course…

Senior Prom.

Billy’s been dodging prom invitations left and right for two weeks now, leaving a trail of pouty glossed lips behind, claiming he has no interest in going to “the party equivalent of daytime tv”. Steve hasn’t said anything about it except a half-muttered comment that he went to Junior Prom with Nancy, after which he immediately changed the subject. Billy assumed he didn’t want to go either.

Which is why Billy’s surprised when he hears through the school grapevine that Becky Olson asked Steve to Prom and he said yes.

When Billy shows up at Steve’s house after school that day, he’s rage smoked half a pack of cigarettes and stewed in his anger all through the afternoon. Even Max heard about it all the way in the middle school, and offered to take Steve’s bat to his balls. Billy drops Max off at home after promising that if he doesn’t kill Steve, he’ll let her at him.

He lets himself into Steve’s house (Steve always leaves the door unlocked for him) and goes straight to Steve’s room (it’s routine by now), where he finds him sitting on his bed, going through cassette tapes.

“Hey, man,” Steve says. Entirely unconcerned.

Billy’s nostrils flare.

“What the fuck, Steve? Is that what you’re gonna say? ‘Hey, man’?”

Steve does look up then, and frowns at Billy, fucking confused. Like Billy’s saying nonsense.

“Yes? Hello? How was your day?” Steve says, nose scrunching up. “What am I supposed to say?”

Billy can’t fucking believe this. This whole time, Steve’s been so- Now he’s acting like he didn’t even do anything.

“Maybe start by telling me what the hell you’re thinking going to prom with some chick!” He yells, like he hasn’t been cursing her name for at least two hours.

Steve gets up from the bed then, runs a hand through his stupid hair, crosses his arms. Billy can see he’s closing himself off, going on the defensive right off the bat.

“Why are you mad at me about this? You don’t even wanna go,” Steve doesn’t raise his voice, but his words echo in the room same as a slap on his face would.

“I don’t know, Steve, maybe I’m mad my boyfriend’s going on a date with some girl!”

This isn’t making any fucking sense. Steve isn’t like this, an inconsiderate asshole going behind Billy’s back. He’s sweet. He’s always been sweet.

There’s something wrong here, and Billy can’t put his finger on it, and it just makes him angrier.

Steve rears back, brows going up, up, up towards his hairline, eyes wide, a sea of white around brown.

“Boyfriend?” He repeats. Licks his lips. “How- Why would you say boyfriend?”

Billy’s stomach sinks, takes everything in his abdominal cavity with it. He feels hollow, weighed down. All the fight has been sucked out of him.

That’s why the conversation felt off.

"Because we've been dating for like, three months, Steve," Billy says, or forces out, and his voice comes out shaky.

They were. He thought they were. Steve’s been- He holds Billy’s hand. They go on dates, as much as they can while staying under the radar. Billy stays over most weekends. It’s never been like this with anyone else, for Billy, not even in California. Even Before.

Steve’s eyes are still wide, but his eyebrows are doing the puppy dog thing, turned up at the inner corners like he’s hurt.

“I…” He starts, stops. Decides on something else. “We never talked about this.”

Billy rears back this time, feeling the sentence like a blow, and Steve follows him with a step forward, hand reaching out.

“I mean- shit,” Steve says, stammers, runs a hand down his face. “I didn’t know you felt that way. About me. I thought you didn’t-”

“What the fuck did you think when we were going on fucking dates, Steve?!”

“You’re my best friend!” Steve says, and it stings. “We do everything together!”

“And suck each other’s dicks, too!”

“I thought-”

“Thought what, this was some friends with benefits shit? If you’re my best friend and we’re boning, how’s that different from a relationship, Steve?!”

“We never talked about it!” Steve finally raises his voice, and the sound of it stuns Billy.

Steve makes an aborted motion with his hand, then again, before closing it into a fist by his side. He rubs at his eyes with his other hand, but not before Billy sees they are wet.

“I’m not going to assume you’re in love with me, Billy! What if I’m wrong? What if I spend months thinking you love me and it turns out to be bullshit?”

Steve’s breathing hard as he finishes speaking, cheeks blotchy red, and hands shaking. He looks terrified right now, terrified Billy’s going to give up on him and leave, going by how he glances from Billy to the door; terrified he’s hurting Billy, because he keeps reaching out but doesn’t step any closer.

Billy feels something click, then, a piece of the puzzle that was grating on him with jagged edges smooths outs and slots into place. That’s the Steve he knows, with his head tangled in so many feelings he can’t parse them out, but never uncaring. Never cold.

“Well, I do,” Billy says, stepping closer to Steve.

He walk forward until their toes are almost touching, until Steve has to tilt his head down to look Billy in the eye. Billy takes a breath and raises an eyebrow, raises his chin, gives Steve his best smirk like wants to eat him alive. Takes a chance.

“I do love you. Whatcha gonna do about it?”

Steve’s eyes jump between his, mouth parted, like a man lost searching for something. Like he’s looking at something holy. Billy feels tentative fingertips at his elbows, then fingers running up his triceps, until finally one of Steve’s hands closes around his arm. The other continues up, up, a long tingling line to his neck, and Steve cups his jaw like something precious. Rubs his thumb on Billy’s cheekbone, feather light, but Billy feels it like a brand.

“You mean it?” Steve’s voice comes out in a ragged whisper, breath spilling over Billy’s lips.

“I do.” They’re so close. Billy wants to take in all of Steve’s face, the way he’s looking at Billy, with his eyes half lidded and his lips parted, like he’s everything Steve could ever want.

“Basketball in the park,” Steve says, out of nowhere, voice still low. “In February. You complained about the cold the whole time but you still kicked my ass. I bought you a burger at the diner, after. That was our first date.”

Billy’s face splits into a grin so wide his cheeks hurt, and he bunches his hands in Steve’s dumb polo shirt, pulls him closer until Steve has to lean down those two inches to press their foreheads together.

“I love you,” Steve whispers against Billy’s lips, “I’m so in love with you.”

Billy nods, barely moving his head, unwilling to part where they’re touching, “‘m in love with you.”

Their lips really touch then, feeling like the first time even if they’ve kissed a thousand times before, are as familiar with each other’s mouths as they are with their own.

The scrape of Steve’s teeth against Billy’s bottom lip pulls a moan out of Billy, and he presses himself tighter to Steve’s body, pulls at his chest, his hips, wants to climb inside him and never leave.

No one’s ever felt like this. No one’s ever made Billy feel like this, this wanted, this needed, like the world starts and ends with them, together. That’s why Billy was so sure they were together. It couldn’t be anything else.

Steve’s the best thing that’s ever happened to Billy, and he’s not gonna let him go without a fight.

[wheels-of-despair]

The Letter Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Evil Woman gets a letter in the mail and says it's not a big deal… but to Eddie Munson, it's a very big deal. Contains: A misunderstanding, a dumb boy, a happy ending. Words: 1.4k

Eddie knocks twice, just to announce himself, before letting himself inside your house. "You don't have to knock, Eddie, you basically live here," they'd all told him several times, but he still felt like they deserved a warning.

Her mom has pulled a chair from the kitchen table closer to the phone mounted on the wall. She smiles and waves at him, gesturing for him to go on to the bedroom where his other half is probably getting ready for their favorite kind of date: Markdown Day at Tape World. They'd raid the clearance bin for new cassettes, then stop by the pretzel place for their usual. He'd get something salty, she'd get something sweet, and they'd split both and wash it down with a shared pop. Perfect.

"Yeah, the letter came earlier this week. She's playing it cool, but I think she's excited. She'll fit right in at Penn."

Eddie feels his blood run cold.

Of course the child of two college graduates is going to college. The thought had crossed his mind a few times, but he was always able to distract himself and banish it. But now…

His feet carry him to her bedroom while his brain spirals.

"Hey! Ready in a sec, just let me finish… oh, fuck it." She slams her textbook shut and tosses it from her place on the bed to the backpack by her desk. She rolls her eyes when it misses, then gets up to shove it into her backpack. She may not be getting a basketball scholarship, but of course she's college-bound.

She could have a real life. A future. A career. She could do anything. Hell, she'd taught him things in a week that the teachers of Hawkins High had been trying to beat into him for years. She's a fucking miracle-worker. Why would she stick around a shitty little town like this? For someone like him?

"Priorities," she smirks, wrapping her arms around his neck. She's so fucking beautiful. How is he gonna keep existing when she's not here? "You okay?" she asks, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind his ear. "You look paler than usual."

He closes his eyes and nods. She feels his forehead. If she cared so much, why would she leave him? "You sure?"

"I'm fine. Just tired," he lies. He misses her already. "Ready?"

She kisses the tip of his nose, and he tries not to cry.

"Let's blow this popsicle stand," she grins, grabbing a jacket.

Eddie forces a smile and feels his heart breaking.

*~One Week Later~*

"Switch those two paragraphs around, and I think you're good," you note, passing Eddie his essay back. You're sitting beside him at your kitchen table. Your brother is making a sandwich at the counter. It's the picture of domestic bliss.

"Thanks," Eddie mumbles, sticking the paper back in his English folder.

"We still on for Tape World tonight?" you ask hopefully. Maybe a good deal on some new music would perk him up. God knows he needs it.

"Dunno," Eddie mumbles without looking up, "got a lotta campaign stuff to work on."

"It's Markdown Day," you remind him.

He shrugs and starts gathering his stuff.

"Alright, what's your problem?" You snap the book in front of you shut, making your brother jump instead of Eddie. Oops.

"No problem," he lies, still not looking at you.

"Bullshit. You've been going back and forth between clingy and distant all week. What's your fucking problem, Munson?"

"I don't have a fucking problem," he spits as he starts shoving stuff into his backpack.

"Kay, this was fun, but I've gotta go do literally anything else!" your bother announces loudly as he scampers back to his room with his hastily-made sandwich, leaving his PB&J supplies open on the counter. Like he was raised in a barn.

You wait until you hear his bedroom door slam before you continue your attack on Eddie, who has run out of room in his backpack. (Your lunchbox, Eddie. You shoved your lunchbox in there.)

You put your hand on a folder and slide it toward you, out of his reach. He glares.

"Talk to me."

"I am," he says defiantly.

You consider beating him to death with his math folder.

"Give it," he orders, reaching out a hand for his folder.

You slide it further away from him, daring him to come get it.

"Or don't, I don't fucking care, I'm just gonna fail again anyway." He drops his overstuffed backpack on the floor and stomps toward the door.

"Eddie!" you call in shock. You stand as if you're going to physically stop him from leaving, but your feet don't want to move.

He gets to the kitchen door and puts his hand on the knob, but doesn't turn it.

"When were you planning on telling me about getting into college?"

"What?"

"I heard your mom on the phone, talking about your acceptance letter," he says to the door.

"Oh."

"Oh?" He turns around with an accusatory glare.

"I didn't think it was that big a deal," you shrug. And it wasn't... to you. You knew he was sensitive about the subject. He visibly bristled when anyone mentioned the c-word. You planned on breaking the news to him after graduation. One thing at a time. And right now, getting a high school diploma in Eddie Munson's hand was the only thing that mattered to you.

"Of course you wouldn't think getting into college is that big a deal."

"Eddie, I didn't mean it like that," you say gently.

"I guess moving a few hundred miles away from me isn't that big a deal either."

"What?"

"Don't play dumb, alright? I know you're going to Pennsylvania, where you won't have some dumb loser townie holding you back. Your mom seemed real happy about it."

Pennsylvania? You're going to… you connect the dots, and a laugh escapes you. You clamp your hand over your mouth.

His eyes fill with tears. "Yeah, it's gonna be real fuckin' funny when the love of my life runs off and forgets about me, just like everybody else did as soon as they graduated." This boy is giving you emotional whiplash. He turns around and reaches for the doorknob again.

This time, your feet cooperate. You rush over and wrap your arms around him from behind before he can get the door halfway open, and he tenses. You can feel his sides shaking. He's trying not to cry.

"That's not gonna happen."

"Bullshit." His voice cracks.

"Eddie, that's not gonna happen to us. Look at me."

He takes a shuddering breath and turns around, but keeps his eyes on the ceiling as he tries to blink back tears. You go in for a hug anyway. He resists for a second, but soon gives in and wraps his arms around you.

"I love you," you say into his neck.

Silence.

You thump him on the back. "Say it back."

"I love you, too," he mumbles.

"Do you trust me?"

He pulls back and looks at you with his big wet eyes and nods. You cup his face, kiss him on the tip of his nose, and smile. "Come with me. I gotta show you something."

"What?"

"Just come on," you grin. "Let's go for a little drive."

You scribble a note for your brother, in case he dares to venture out of the safety of his cave before you get back, and lead Eddie to the car.

Nineteen silent minutes later, you pull into a parking lot, find a space, and turn off the engine.

Eddie looks around quizzically at the parked cars, the people rushing by, and the bodies lounging on the grass. Then he looks to you.

"Where are we, Eddie?"

"Isn't this where your mom works?"

"Yeah. But where are we?"

He stares at you blankly. He's lucky he's pretty, because he is so damn dumb. You've never loved anyone more.

"C'mon," you smile, getting out of the car and waiting for him on the sidewalk. He watches you from the passenger's seat for a moment, until curiosity gets the better of him. You wait patiently, then hold out your hand when he approaches. When he takes it, you lead him toward the main building, where your point will be easier to make.

You stop and point at the massive stone sign. "What's that say?"

He huffs out an annoyed breath and reads, "Pennhurst Coll… oh." You see the realization dawn on his face, soon accompanied by a blush. "I'm an idiot."

"You're my idiot," you grin, pulling him close. "And I'm not going anywhere without you."

A Note From Wheels: Honestly can't remember if I've ever mentioned it, but in my mind, Evil Woman's mom has always been a college professor. 😂 EW will be attending Pennhurst because it's cheap (well, free, since Mom's got the hookup) and close to Eddie. 🥰 I'd imagine Pennhurst is not a very prestigious university, so Mom could probably get Eddie in if he wanted to go. (He absolutely does not.)

[lou-struck]

A Peaceful Project

Hajime Iwaizumi  x reader

Flufftober Day 11

WC: 1.4k

~You bought a few beginner crochet kits from the airport's gift shop to wait out your long layover, while traveling with your Fiancé and the Pro- Volleyball team he works for. 

What a sight your group must be amidst the usual airport crowd. The Japan National Volleyball Team mostly stands tall in their all-red warm-up uniforms they have elected to travel in for their flight home from an International Volleyball tournament. You would never tell them this, but the group looks a bit like a cult. 

Due to hazardous weather, the flight home has been delayed for at least another twelve hours, and it is quite amusing to see how these top athletes deal with the stale stench of boredom that wafts throughout the gate.

Between the rows of leather-backed seats, you spy the muscled form of your Fiance, who busies himself with adjusting the athletic tape of Tobio Kagyama’s fingers, but you can tell by Hajime’s tight smile he is thankful to be wearing his normal clothes.

“How much longer do we have to sit hereeee?” Shoyo Hinata whines, squirming in his seat. The redhead has never been good at staying in one place, so this must be agonizing for him.

“A while,” you reply, feeling pity for the man. “Maybe you could go check out the airport and get yourself some food.”

At the mention of a meal, he brightens up exponentially and looks at you with wide eyes. “There’s food here?”

“Yeah, idiot,” Kageyama says, walking over to the two of you, flexing his freshly taped fingers. “Why would we be stuck in a place like this without something to eat?”

“I wasn’t talking to you, Crappyama,” the smaller man responds, childishly sticking out his tongue at the setter. He turns his attention to you nicely. “Wanna go with me since Iwaizumi is busy?”

You smile warmly at him and shake your head. “Thank you for asking, but I’ll wait for him to get done.”

“Oh, okay,” he says before turning to the setter. “Let’s go get something to eat.”

“Why me?” Kageyama asks, looking surprised. 

“Because you’re always grumpy when you’re hungry.” the redhead says before zipping away down the terminal. 

“I’m not grumpy!” The dark-haired man calls, sprinting after him. 

You laugh as they disappear out of sight, and you hear a deep chuckling behind you. Turning your head, you see Hajime walking over to you. 

“There goes our entertainment.” he laughs, leaning over you in your seat. His large hand slips under your chin and tilts it upwards so that he can give you a proper kiss. “How you doing, baby?”

“Better now,” you hum, enjoying his attention. While you are glad that you were able to join him on this trip, you definitely haven’t gotten to spend as much time with him as you would’ve liked. Between tending to the player’s injuries and providing nutritional advice for the team’s meals, he has made a lot of overtime pay these last few days. “How many players do you have to do treatments on?”

His face falls, and he glances back at the queue of men standing behind him. There are at least a dozen players in need of treatment. The last few days were tough on them, and there was no shortage of injuries. “I’ll be at least another hour,” he sighs. “I’m sorry.”

Your comforting touch finds his bicep, and you give it a reassuring little squeeze. “Hey, it’s alright. I can just get a book or something from that little shop over there, and then we can go and get something together.”

He looks between you and the ‘Go Mart’ a few yards away before giving you a tired yet heartfelt smile. “You would really do that for me?”

“You know I’d do just about anything for you,” you laugh, reaching into your backpack and pulling out your wallet to pay for whatever kind of overpriced airport entertainment you are about to get for yourself.

“Thanks, baby,” he says, helping you to your feet. “I’ll go as fast as I can, I promise.” With quick steps, he walks back over to his empty row of seats that he has cleared out for his athletic training purposes and starts barking directions at the men waiting in line. “You’re next, Miya, sit down and let me see that damn wrist of yours.”

Leaving your suitcase in the safety of your party, you step into the little shop. Walking past the rack of keychains and shot glasses with various city names and other last-minute travel gifts, people get when they forget to buy them on their travels to the back of the store. The wall of mass-market paperbacks looks down on you. 

You are just about to reach for a cheesy-sounding romance novel until something catches your eye. Your head turns to give yourself a better look, and you see a little rack of arts and crafts kits, including some paint-by-numbers coloring books and ‘Beginner-Friendly’ crochet kits. 

The little pouches have adorable little crochet animal pictures on the front, including a little green lizard guy and a purple penguin. It may not be a book, but these little kits look like just the thing you need to make it through this layover. 

You scoop the light packages off their hooks and bring them to the counter, not bothering to look at the obscenely high price they have. 

It will hurt less to just ignore the charge on your credit card completely…

~

The gift shop bag sways to and fro as you walk back to where your group is supposed to be. Your gate has become practically empty save for your Fiance, who diligently watches the luggage with his arms crossed. 

“Where’s the rest of your line?” you ask, noting the absence of the volleyball players. 

“They got hungry and left.” he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “We should’ve just gotten food when we had the chance.”

“So now you’re on suitcase duty?” you ask, plopping down in the seat next to him.

“Until they come back, I guess we are stuck here.” He spots the bag in your hand and peaks into it. “That doesn’t look like a book.” 

“Nope,” you say brightly, taking the kits out of the plastic and showing them to him. “I got us a project.”

“Crocheting?” he asks, reading the label. 

“The package says it’s for beginners, so I think the two of us can figure it out together,” you say, tossing him the lizard. “Go make a mini Godzilla.”

“That’s just a Lizard,” he chuckles. 

You roll your eyes and open the package of your purple penguin. “It could be a Mini Godzilla.” you hum. 

He smiles just for you and opens the package, taking out the yarn, the crochet hook, and, most importantly, the instructions. “Let’s see what this is all about then.”

Within minutes, you guys are hooked…

As much as you love talking to each other, you are dead silent as your eyes scan the instructions and your project. And despite the hustle and bustle of the airport around you, you feel remarkably peaceful. 

Thirty minutes go by before you say anything. “How is it going?” you ask, not taking your eyes off the little penguin bottom you have crafted. 

“Good,” he says, short and sweet. No doubt thriving in the comfortable silence the two of you have created for yourselves.

“Good.” you parrot, looking at the yard strand between your fingers and admiring the long chain you have formed. You may not know what you have to do after this step, but you’ll find out when you get there.

“Hey, we’re back,” Hinata calls, rushing back over to you two with Kageyama on his heels. “This airport is so cool. There’s a whole plane inside this garden thing and like a gazillion places to eat; when you go down there, make sure to,” he is cut off by an icy glare from your Fiance. 

“Shut up, I’m trying to concentrate.” Hajime hisses at the dynamic duo. “Unless you are injured or dying, leave us be.”

They look a bit taken aback at the Athletic Trainer’s outburst and look to you for any kind of comfort, but you are too engrossed in your project to give it to them.

“Sorry guys, I have a penguin to make.” you hum, looping another strand of violet yarn around your crochet hook. 

Neither of you has acknowledged it yet, but whoever finishes their project first won’t have to pay for their meal.

Tagging: @enchantedforest-network @eussstasss

[stargalaxxy]

♡ hi hi, it’s been too long since I’ve written a story… hopefully it’s good hehe ♡

……

Bonnie x Reader

……

- “Damn it Golden shut the hell up!”

There they go again, you roll your eyes expecting at least one of the dorks in the party room to freak out, you can hear Bonnie yell at the golden bear who was most likely irritating the purple rabbit.

Placing your tools into your bin and closing the top right after, it was labeled "Mechanic" on the top in sharpie on brown masking tape. Being a mechanic did not mean fixing the emotional stress on the living animatronics, but being their friend did. At least in your book, taking a deep breath you turn your heel as the door busts wide open.

heavy breathing from Chica can be heard as she looks up finally catching her breath,

- “oh honey, I’m so glad your here!”

Her country accent evident in her voice as she points down the hall,

- “Bonnie is having a total freak out out there! Now I know it’s outta your pay but could yo-“

you giggle smiling at the chubby girl,

- “yes Chica, I was actually about to head out now”

Just as you were about to take a step out of the room a loud crash could be heard from the party room. Curses from both Bonnie and Freddy could be heard mainly Freddy telling Bonnie to calm down, only those weren’t the only words he used. Soon laughter erupted from Goldens mouth…his laughs always unsettled you.

- “I-I guess now is a good time as ever”

Chica chuckles her shoulders bouncing, nodding you follow her out adjusting your shirt and self for the mess that you’ll see. As soon as you made out to the party room you saw the main party table was flipped over and party hats were scattered everywhere. Freddy had a hand over his face as if collecting himself, a look all too familiar when he was trying to reign in his anger. You were guessing it didn’t help that Golden was on the floor legs in the air laughing his ass off, his laughter was the only thing in the room as it echoed almost mockingly.

- “Now Golden, you get on now! Haven’t you caused enough trouble!”

Chica yells lifting her sleeves up marching over to the troublemaker. Glaring down placing her hands on her hips her face had a sour look, much like a mother about to scold their oldest.

- “Golden, what the hell did you do to Bonnie?”

Keeping your distance as the bear looks up to Chica having a staring match which looked as if Golden was winning, Golden scoffs rolling his eyes as he stands up.

- “Geez, he's so sensitive can’t even take a simple joke-”

- “all you do is make jokes”

Freddy's southern accent chimed in as he glared at Golden who only rolled his eyes once again,

- “this is the third time that Bonnie has hada damn fit like this”

Freddy was right, whatever Golden was saying to Bonnie has been taking a toll on the place it had gotten so bad that you’ve heard that they might turn Bonnie off.

- “all these damages that is comin’ from his tantrums are from you. And all you been doin is makin’ it worst!”

The room was quiet, Freddy was always good at bringing attention to his friends and helping them take responsibility.

- “bite me”

And Golden was the one that did not care for them as you did. He looked away as he teleports off somewhere, Freddy grunts as he loosens his tie taking off his hat as he sits on the party chair,

- “oh Fred, you tried”

Chica smiles as she comes over behind Freddy massaging his shoulders.

- “hey Freddy, I can try and talk to Bonnie! Maybe if I can figure out why Golden is picking on him then maybe he’ll have less outbursts!”

You offer Freddy as there was another silence,

- “sure (Y/N), give it a shot”

Freddy finally lifts his head up as he smiles at you, nodding you take your leave to the the side of the stage where a door was, grabbing your keys you unlock the door to find other doors. To the side was Bonnie’s room as you’ve been shown it by him many times before. Taking a deep breath before knocking you prepare yourself for whatever Bonnie could throw at you. Your knocks were soft as you heard a muffle "come in", turning the knob you walk in.

He was sitting with his head propped on his knees as he sulked, his ears flopped down with defeat as he stared at the wall. His foot bouncing up and down, almost like a real rabbit when they stomp their feet. You had to force every ounce of your body not to giggle.

- “Bonnie, are you okay?”

You knew he wasn’t, but isn’t that what everyone asks, you go to sit next to him as you place your hands in your lap. The silence was evident that you got your answer, as he looked away from you. During the time you’ve known Bonnie he had never raised his voice to you, even when he was upset. It was something you liked about him, he had always seemed to welcome you when he was feeling down.

- “hey, I don’t know what Golden said to you but, forget about him.”

Bonnie didn’t say anything so you decided to carry on,

- “don’t give him so much power! He probably annoys you because he has nothing else to do in the basement”

Your sass causes Bonnie to chuckle a little as his shoulders bounced he finally turns to you smiling, his bouncing foot was finally put to rest.

- “geez he’s annoying”

You laugh,

- “you’re just now realizing~”

You tease him as you place your head on his shoulders, you don’t see it but it causers the bunny to blush. As he grins, trying to hide his goofy smile looking away again.

- “so, what did Golden say to make you so upset?”

His thumping continues as he grips his sleeve,

- “I-it’s embarrassing, I honestly shouldn’t have gotten so upset about it”

- “but, it always keeps happening, maybe if you talked about it, you can get it off your mind and it won’t bother you!”

Bonnie thumping got slower but it was still prominent, you place a hand on his shoulder causing him to jump. He looks to you and you finally see his blush.

- “Bonnie, you can tell me”

- “he.. he said, you’d be better off.. with him, and that I could never… get with you…”

Him talking was like slowly ripping off a band-aid, it was painful for him as his face got red saying out loud of what Golden has been saying to him.

- “oh Bonnie, that is a little silly, why would you listen to that doofus when you know he’s wrong”

- “I-I guess it really got to me, I’d absolutely hate it if you went with a guy like him”

Bonnie huffs but it soon dies down as you kiss his cheek,

- “oh please, never in a million years~”

Bonnie smiles as you place your head on his shoulder again,

- “you’re sweet and kind Bonnie, I’m lucky to have met you”

- “I think that’s my line”

You both chuckle as you close your eyes, patting Bonnie’s upper arm,

- “don’t let Golden get to you please, I don’t want to loose you”

- “heh, I promise no more outbursts”

You both sat in comfortable silence as Bonnie leaned over to grab and tune his guitar, hearing the vibrations of the strings brought tranquility to the room as you closed your eyes on Bonnie’s shoulder.

- “hey maybe I can teach you how to pla-“

- “Bonnie Bunny get your Cotten tail out here and clean your mess!”

Both you and Bonnie stopped as you looked to one another soon running out the door before Freddy came and knocked down the door.

…..

[wheatnoodle]

part 2!!

read part 1 here

—

it takes four days before somebody notices anything is wrong.

it’s keith of all people. steve had called him at the beginning of the week to tell him he was sick and wouldn’t be in for a few days. keith told him three days. it’s day four and he’s stomping up from the back room. he looks behind the line, whips his head around and scans the parking lot. with a hefty sigh, he snatches up one of the landlines, punching in numbers with much more force than necessary.

it rings a few times before being sent to the voice message machine. robin watches him from the counter.

“harrington. it’s…” he checks his watch, “11:30. you were supposed to be here at 9:00. i’ve called like a million times. get here or find a new job,” keith says before slamming the phone down.

“who shoved a stick up your ass this morning?” robin asks, her arms crossing over her chest.

“harrington. you seen him lately?” keith said with a huff.

“no. why?” she furrows her brows, standing up straighter at the mention of her best friend. now that she thinks about it, when did she see him last? the bonfire? did he make it home okay? what if he crashed his car and he’s dead in a ditch? is he sick? and she’s not taking care of him? oh god, what if his parents are home?

“he was out the past couple days, was supposed to be back in today. clearly he’s not, and i can’t get in touch with him,” keith shook his head, annoyance dripping off his very being.

“maybe i can call some of our friends to go check on him,” robin says, mainly to herself, and grabs the phone keith was just using. there’s a notecard taped under the counter with all the party’s house phone numbers, even the byers’ home all the way across the country. she pulls it off, reading through it and typing in dustin’s phone number. “c’mon c’mon c’mon…”

“henderson’s, this is claudia,” dustin’s mother answers, her voice as bright and cheery as always.

“hi, ms.h. it’s robin. um…is dustin around?” she tries to keep her voice even, even puts a smile on her face in hopes it makes everything sound okay.

“of course, honey! let me go get him for you.” the sound muffles for a few seconds as claudia calls for her son, pressing the phone to her chest. robin can hear the smallest bits of their conversation before the phone is handed off.

“robin? what’s up?” dustin’s voice filters through the receiver. he sounds happy to hear from her, but of course he doesn’t know what to expect. robin’s calling? in the middle of a work day? that doesn’t happen.

“hey, dustin! quick question, have you talked to steve recently?” robin asks and brings a hand up to chew on her nails, a bad habit she gets from her dad. her mom always tries to pull her hands from her mouth.

“no, last time was at the fire. why, what’s going on?” he doesn’t seem happy anymore. his voice drops quiet while he talks, like he’s waiting for robin to drop an upside down related bombshell on his morning.

“oh. well he was supposed to be in today but hasn’t showed. not picking up the phone either. i was just wondering if he’d said anything to you.”

“no, he hasn’t said anything. i’ll go check on him, i got nothing else going on today. i’ll radio when i see him,” dustin says. robin’s nodding along before she remembers he can’t see her. “robin. he’ll be okay.”

“i know. i know, i do. i just worry about him,” robin says truthfully and her shoulders deflate with a sigh. she runs her fingers through her hair, closing her eyes and tugging on the strands.

“i do too. i’ll get back to you.” and with that, the dial tone sounds. robin’s chewing her lip as she puts the phone back and gets ready to handle the incoming customers

—

dustin knows the route to steve’s house like the back of his hand and it takes him less than fifteen minutes to bike over there. he hops off once he reaches the end of the harrington’s long, unpaved driveway, walking his bike up the rest of the dirt trail. he always hated this part, especially at night. giant trees would loom over and every single one seemed to hold some kind of animal making some kind of weird noise. also way too close to where will went missing all those years ago for his liking.

the first thing dustin notices when he approaches the house is the lack of a car in the driveway. the familiar maroon bmw is nowhere in sight. odd. steve wouldn’t lie about being sick to get out of work and then go get caught driving around instead. maybe it was just in the shop.

he walks up to the red door and starts pounding on it.

“steeeeeve! steve, it’s dustin!” the kid yells, his fist continuing to slam against the wood. he waits a few seconds, gets no response, and repeats. he’s out there for ten minutes before accepting that he was, in fact, not going to answer the door. he takes his walkie from the side pocket of his backpack and switches to the main scoops troop channel.

“robin, it’s dustin. he’s not answering the door, so i’m going in. over,” he says and tucks it back in his pocket.

“keep me posted. over.”

he pulls his key ring from his shorts, flipping through to the gold key to the harrington house. dustin sticks the key in, twists and opens. it creaks on its hinges.

the second dustin steps inside, he’s hit with how warm it is in the house. how has he not turned on the ac?! it’s like a million degrees in here! he must be like dying if he’s actually sick and it’s this warm here.

“steve?! steve! are you here, man? it’s dustin,” he calls out as he starts his ascent up the stairs. “steeeeeve!”

no response. just echoes of his own voice bouncing back in his ears. what is going on? it’s eerily quiet, the silence making the blood rush in his ears. dustin approaches steve’s door. it’s cracked an inch or so.

“steve?” dustin says quietly. he places his palm on the door, gives it a gentle push so it swings open.

the room is empty. everything is spotless.

pictures of the kids are gone from the mirror on the wall.

the closet devoid of brightly colored sweaters and well-loved sneakers.

dustin’s eyes are wide as saucers, jaw dropped wide enough to catch flies. his hands fall to his sides and he doesn’t even try to stop them from trembling.

“st-eve?” his voice cracks. blue eyes are flooded with tears that won’t quite fall but certainly make it hard to see. “STEVE?”

the walkie is back in his hand.

“robin. this is dustin. i think i might have a code red. over,” he whimpers into the walkie. his free hand pushes under his hat, tangling in sweaty curls. “robin, i have a code red! over!”

“dustin? it’s robin, what’s going on? is steve okay? over.”

“he’s- he’s gone? n-nothing is here? i’m- robin, his room is empty.” he doesn’t care that he’s now openly crying into the receiver, fat tears rolling down his flushed cheeks.

“i’m on my way.”

[burningablaze]

Sero x Reader - The Coolest Of Quirks

Summary: Sero was not always the one to feel down about anything until you were the one to find out why

Lee: Sero

Ler: Reader

Words: 1,581

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everyone came back to the dorms from training at the end of the day. Mine, Kirishima, and Kaminari crashed on the sofa in the common room. “Oh man, Mr. Aizawa did not hold back on the training today,” Kaminari said with a groan. “I’m gonna get bruises on top of my bruises,” Kirishima said with a pained tone. “My body is gonna be so sore tomorrow,” Mina whined.

“Shut up ya bunch of weaklings!” Bakugou shouted.

“Hey, Todoroki, you wanna help me set dinner for tonight?” Midoriya asked. “Sure,” Todoroki answered and followed him to the kitchen.

“I’m going to bed early tonight, night everyone,” Sero said softly before heading to the elevator. Everyone else bid him goodnight and stayed downstairs to relax for the rest of the evening. You noticed that he looked a little upset as he walked and you couldn't help but feel worried about him, so you decided to follow him to his dorm room.

You knocked on his door and waited. “Who is it?” he asked. You opened the door and slowly peeked your head in. “Hey, love.” you stepped into his room and closed the door. “You okay?” you asked, your voice laced with concern.

Zero was sitting on the edge of his bed and looked up at you with his eyes slightly red-rimmed. “Oh, it's nothing really,” he said, trying to wave it off. “I’m just… I don't know, I’ve been feeling a little down lately. It's been a long day, you know?”

You nodded, understanding him. “I could tell something was bothering you. Do you want to talk about it?” you asked as you sat down next to him.

Sero sighed. “It's just… sometimes I feel like I’m not good enough, you know? Like I’m always falling behind everyone else or not living up to everyone’s expectations.” he ran a hand through his hair, a gesture you knew meant he was feeling stressed.

You frowned slightly. “Where is this coming from?” you asked. “From today's training, I feel like I’m just not improving as fast as the others. Everyone else seems to be picking things up so quickly and I’m still struggling to get the basics down.” he let out a frustrated sigh.

“Besides, my quirk is just… well, tape. It's not as cool as Bakugou’s or Midoriya’s.”

Sero’s words hung in the air and you could see the vulnerability and self-doubt in his expression. “Are you kidding me?” You’re practically Spider-Man but with tape and that's as cool as it's gonna get.” you exclaimed, giving him a playful nudge. “Don’t sell yourself short, Sero. Your quirk is awesome, and you’re doing an amazing job with it.”

He looked up at you with a soft smile then placed his arm over your shoulder to pull you closer to him and kissed your cheek. “Thanks, sweet pea. I guess I just needed a little reminder that I’m not alone in this. It's easy to get caught up in comparing myself to everyone else, but you’re right - I need to focus on my progress.”

You nuzzled your face against his. “Exactly. And remember, I’m always here if you need someone to talk to, okay? We’re in this together. You and me together, baby.” you smiled warmly at him then gently kissed his lips. “God, I love the way you support me like no other. You just so happen to form words in that little brain of yours.”

You chuckled. “I just know how to get through to you.” you have him a gentle poke on his side.

He chuckled and tried to hold back a squeal. He was extremely ticklish, especially on his sides and even your poking him made him almost let loose but he tried to hold it in.

“Don’t do that, you know I’m sensitive there!”

You smiled and kept poking him. “Oh, I know. I just like seeing you smile and hearing your cute laugh.”

He started to laugh a bit and held your wrists to stop you from poking him more. “Hey, stohohohohohohop that!” I'm n-nohohohohohot a toy you can just poke for your amusement!” he said while trying to hold back his giggles.

“Oh, come on! Just laugh a little for me.” you leaned forward to bury your face in his neck and smothered his neck with kisses.

He let out a small gasp, feeling your lips attack his neck and his grip on your wrists loosened. He tried to hold his laughs in but he couldn't fight the sensation. He started laughing louder and let go of your wrists. “Hehehehehehey, t-thahahahahats cheating! Ahahahahahahaha!”

“Let me hear your giggles.” your voice muffled against his skin then blew a raspberry on his neck. You pushed him back on the bed and tickled his sides.

“W-wait, nohohohohohoho s-stohohohop! Hahahahahahahahahaha!” he said, trying to push you off of him while laughing.

“You’re so cute when you laugh.” you blew more raspberries and squeezed his sides.

He squirmed around on the bed, his body trying to get away from your tickling but to no avail, and his laughing grew louder as you tickled him more.

“I know I’m c-cuhuhuhuhute but stop t-tickling mehehehehehe plehehehease! Ahahahahahahahahaha!”

“Oh look, you admit something! I wonder what else you can admit.” you smiled and dug your fingers in his sides.

The feeling of your fingers digging into his sides made him laugh even harder and his body jerked from side to side. “St-stohohohohohop! I’ll-I’ll say anything you wahahahahahant!”

You stopped tickling him for a moment. “Alright, what else can you admit to?”

He caught his breath as he calmed down once you stopped tickling him. He panted as he tried to regain his breath before making eye contact with you and letting out a sigh. “Okay, you win, what do you want me to say?”

You smiled softly at him. “I want you to admit that you're doing your best. I want you to admit you are good enough. I want you to admit that you don't need to compare your quirk with anyone else, and you have one of the best quirks.”

He took a moment to take in what you had said. It took a second before he realized you were having him confess his insecurities and let out a sigh before averting his eyes from you. “I-I… I am doing my best… I-I don’t need to compare my quirk with everyone else… I-” he paused a bit before letting out another sigh. “I’m good enough.”

You placed your hand on his cheek and rubbed your thumb against his skin. “I just want you to be who you are, baby.”

He felt your hand rest against his cheek and he leaned into it. He closed his eyes relaxed under your touch, and smiled a bit at your words. “I know I just - sometimes I can’t help thinking I’m not as good as everyone else… it's my stupid insecurities…”

“And hey, I said I would be with you every step of the way, okay?”

He nodded his head a bit and opened his eyes to look at you and he smiled at you. “Y-yeah… your right… I know I can rely on you when I’m feeling down, you always know what to say to make me feel better.”

You smiled warmly. “Good.” you leaned down to kiss his lips softly. “Now let's see if I can hear your cute laughs again,” you smirked then trailed your fingers up and down his sides.

Sero smiled a bit when you kissed him but that smile quickly turned into laughs as you started tickling his sides again. “Hahahahahahahahahaha st-stohohohohohop!” he tried to grab your wrists to stop your hands from attacking his sides but he couldn't stop laughing.

You chuckled at his squirming. “Come on, baby! Not even a little giggle?”

His laugh grew louder as your fingers tickled his sides and his body jerked around on the bed. His stomach started to hurt from all the laughing. “I-I’m already g-giggling! Hahahahahahahahahaha! Have mercy on me p-plehehehehehease!”

You smiled then stopped. “Alright, alright.” you brushed his hair out of his face.

He breathed a sigh of relief when you stopped. His laughs slowly came to a stop and his body went limp on the bed as he tried to catch his breath. “I t-think that’s enough tickling for one day, babe…”

“I think so too.” you kissed his forehead. “I love you, Sero.”

He smiled when you kissed his forehead and he looked up at you with a loving, yet slightly cheeky, gaze. “I love you too.”

He pulled you on top of him, wrapping his arms around you and giving your head a few kisses. “Mmm, I missed this, just us spending time together and goofing around.”

You smiled. “Me too.”

He tightened his grip on you a bit and he pulled you closer, resting his head on your shoulder. He closed his eyes and took in the moment of having you close to him. “Can we stay like this just a bit longer? I want to hold you a little longer.”

“I don’t mind. It feels nice,” you said softly.

He nodded his head a bit and pulled you closer until you were almost on top of him. He started running his hand through your hair as he held you there. He held you closely and let himself relax, his eyes stayed closed as he just focused on the feeling of you in his arms.

[modanisgf]

DAYLIGHT , HANNI PHAM

note— it’s 3am so not proof read sorry 😭😭

☆ pairing(s): student hanni pham x reader

☆ warning(s): a bit of angst, bad writing

LOVE, a word that was foreign to y/n before she met hanni.

y/n liked to believe that love wasn’t real, every romantic relationship she had ended poorly. even her parents relationship had failed.

so what made her believe in it again?

TAPE ONE , THE MEETING

08/23/18

hanni pham, the day she walked into y/n’s first period as a new student would be a day the girl would never forget.

she remembered it well too well even, hanni had walked in nervously and in a rush but still looking as pretty as ever.

“y/n are you okay?” danielle, y/n’s friend asks.

“yeah.” the love struck girl responds simply.

danielle giggles quietly at her friends actions watching as hanni tried to find a seat.

“hey can i sit here?” hanni asks, her voice soft as she was still rather nervous.

“oh yeah, of course!” danielle responds smiling.

“thank you.” hanni says smiling back.

y/n swore she felt the world pause as her and hanni made eye contact. they stared at each other for a bit before y/n looked away embarrassed.

“so what’re your guys names?” hanni asks trying to move away from what had just happened.

“i’m danielle!”

“y/n.”

hanni nods, “i’m hanni.”

“nice to meet you.” y/n says smiling sincerely.

hanni was caught off guard by this, ‘her smile is so pretty.’ she thought smiling back at the girl.

the girls only got closer over time even becoming friends with others, expanding the group.

though as time went on hanni and y/n’s feelings for each other grew.

and they couldn’t keep denying it.

TAPE TWO , WHAT IS LOVE?

11/27/21

“dani?” y/n calls out to her friend, who turns around to face her.

“hm?” danielle responds.

“what is your definition of love?” y/n asks.

“love is a feeling of affection for someone or something, there’s different types.” danielle says, “like you wouldn’t love your family the same way you love a romantic partner y’know?” she finishes, y/n nodding.

“so how do i know if i’m in love with someone, like romantically?” y/n asks softly, embarrassed to be asking her friend this.

“i mean whenever i have a crush i just feel really giddy around the person. my heart usually beats faster, or i get flustered.” danielle explains.

“so what exactly do i do if i have a crush on someone?” y/n asks finally.

danielle knew this was coming, she was glad it was finally happening.

“you confess. in my opinion it’s better to take the risk i guess, you never know if the person will move on because of miscommunication or something.” danielle says.

“okay, thank you dani.”

“anything for you, y/n.”

TAPE THREE , CRUSH

11/28/21

“hanni!” y/n yells, walking faster to catch up to her friend.

hanni turns around after hearing her name her heart melting as she sees y/n walk towards her. y/n had changed up her appearance a bit, seemingly that she had got her hair done and put makeup on.

“y/n?” hanni asks as the changed girl finally stops in front of her.

“i need to talk to you.” y/n says grabbing hanni’s hand and dragging her elsewhere.

hanni for sure was blushing now her mind still not done thinking about y/n’s new appearance. she looked so good, how could hanni not be stuck on it?

the two finally entered an empty classroom, y/n shutting the door behind them. they made themselves comfy before y/n took a deep breath.

“promise me you won’t hate me?” she asks.

“y/n i would never hate you.” hanni confirms, flustering the girl in front of her.

“i’m not really good with words when it comes to being romantic, so i’ll be as straight up as i can.” y/n starts, “hanni, i like you a lot ever since we met i felt different around you and i wasn’t exactly sure why.”

“but now that i am, i’ve wanted nothing more than to be yours. so will you allow me to?” y/n finishes, preparing herself for rejection.

not even hesitating, hanni leans in kissing y/n softly the two not pulling away until they needed air.

“so.. does that me you’ll be my girlfriend?” y/n asks teasingly.

hanni rolls her eyes playfully, “y/n, i would love to.” she smiles sincerely.

y/n flashing her same smile back from the day they first met, making hanni’s heart melt all over again.

“I ONCE BELIEVED LOVE WOULD BE BURNING RED, BUT IT’S GOLDEN.”

[lumizwrld]

𝑺𝑻𝑶𝑪𝑲𝑯𝑶𝑳𝑴...

“ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜ, ʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴇᴇʟ, ʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜᴇ…”

( I had to do it, Rory needs his attention )

➢ Danny Cooper × Black Fem Reader word count ✶ 3.6k

⚠︎NSFW WARNING⚠︎ submissive danny cooper, slightly dominant y/n, stockholm syndrome, blindfolded sex, dirty talking, aggressive behavior, teasing, praising, creampie

✍︎ Summary = (Intruders but my lil twist, you portray Anna however cut her backstory out bc her shit was wild) With the intrusion of your home happening on the day of your brother's funeral, you decided to keep Danny in the palms of your hands, tied up in your bedroom left to rot his sanity away. However, you decide on how to resolve this situation in a way he nor you would ever conjure of... ✧

Your empty stare was lethal to encounter, how melancholic this home was, this feeling you were drained in, made you just want to take your own life and forget how fucked up this life of yours ended up being. How even friends made you think twice about everything now. There was no point in trying anymore. You tilted your head, lost in the gaze of your hostage struggling in the chair you tied him down to in front of you. Danny was like a little show to you, pleading, desperate to hear your voice comfort his agitation. Yet, you resented him completely. Funny to say how this wasn’t a friend anymore to you. A piece of dead weight you thought, his life meant nothing but pure lies. Nor his cries striking remorse to you. You could honestly laugh at this moment as his breathing exhilarated, mock him like a little child, and leave him to drain himself to death.

“Why are you thinking otherwise?”  Your heart bit at your mind. “What if he’s actually about his word and—didn’t have anything to do with this intrusion?”

“Y/N,” He strained, “I-I’m…sorry, I didn’t mean to cause this.” Danny really desired to hear you exhale a breath at this point, just to know he wasn’t alone, losing his mind. Yet, you still kept your cold eyes on him, his blindfolded self helpless from the tight grips of rope his wrists were bound to while his body and legs faced duct tape.

He looked unreal.

“Oh my god.” He groaned, dropping his head. “Please.”

You wanted to believe him, but he was so fucked up and the ball was in your court. You could do anything to him honestly, let him sit here for a couple more hours and tire himself out with the idea of you listening to him. He wasn’t leaving this home anyway. All the possibilities you contemplated. He wasn’t real to you anymore, setting you up like this, so why would he faithfully hope a savior would come and rescue him? He knew he was fucked. Why hope, Danny?  You finally rose, gradually sauntering around him like a vulture until you got behind. Like a body of water sharing kisses with fallen plucked feathers, your footsteps agreed with your quiet motive. But, like a cold breeze brushing his cheek, he sensed your presence. He lifted his head. “Hey…” He strained, “Y/N—”

“You're addicted to my name.” You questioned in his ear, hearing him gasp and observing his head trying to turn to you. "I heard your sorry excuse. You're funny Danny.” You asserted, grasping the top rail of the chair. “How many times have you done this sick shit?”

“Stop—I didn’t think this would happen, I would never...” He whined with struggles of breath, “Believe me, you are a friend of mine. Vance didn't tell me about this—I didn’t think telling him about you would cause this.”

“Who gave you the right to tell my life to other people?” You chuckled in disbelief, lurking down the side of his face and then into his ear once again. “I like that thought you have of me, I’m stupid right?”

“You’re not, I never thought—Y/N please, I’m sorry.” He gave up, tossing his head back as slight tears trickled down his cheeks. “Let me just prove myself to you. I’ll give you anything you want. I just want you to believe me, I’d never do that.”

“.....You went to his funeral, right? " You questioned, hesitant to hear him out. “What cemetery?”

“The…The cemetery by that abandoned school…I even took…photos for you…” He drained out, “I had a feeling you didn’t want to see that in front of you, feel that sorrow of him again Y/N….” You stood up straight, shivers surging down your spine and cheeks. I believe him but- you snared your eyes at him in doubt. You could sense the truth fly from his pathetic lips, but he then spoke out once again, his head turning behind to ‘face’  you. “My phone—It’s in my pocket. I want you to believe me, search my phone if you have to.”

You gradually began to find yourself in front of him, hesitant to touch him and fall for a stupid trap. You really did wanna believe his words but—you ended up placing your hands on the sides of his thighs, patting him until you felt his phone in his right pocket. “I wanna believe you, Danny.” You whispered out of your heart, “What’s your password?”

“17…59…3.” He spoke out.

As you unlocked his phone, you scoured through to find your answers. His photo gallery, his messages, even his search history. Typing your way on his search engine all the possible shit he’d type to ‘plan’ this situation out. You hated this feeling, you wanted to throw up. Double checking his messages, almost going through all of his contacts…You dropped to your knees, almost wanting to cry of your thoughts.

Danny was right.

He really was genuine but— a part of you wanted to still hold him accountable for his mistake. He called out your name, nudging himself forward but was restrained back like a whiplash. You didn’t even look at him, how you felt so bad but—you didn’t want to let him go still. “What happened? Y/N?” He suspected in agitation, urging himself still, yet you didn't utter a word and your eyes locked to the bedroom floor. There was nothing skeptical about him at all.

“I…” You exhaled, “I don’t know Danny.”

“D-Don’t know what?”

“I’m still going to keep you here.” You rose, discarding his phone on your bed. 

“Y/N?! Don’t leave me here! Please I said I’ll do anything!?”

Your hesitant pace of a walk, approaching him with your trembling hands going behind his head. You didn’t want him to see you, but you had to piece this all together. You slowly unlaced his blindfold but still held in place. “Close your eyes, you haven’t seen light in hours. The light is dim in here but, still.” As you took off his blindfold, you sat back down in front of him. You couldn’t bear to face him. But, when he opened his eyes, he scoured your frame, then roamed his surroundings.

A sigh escaped your lips after silence glutted the room, “Like I said, I want to believe you. But, you're too clean for me to just let you go. I can’t do that.”

“Why?” He whimpered, his eyes frowning upon you in fear. “I gave you what you wanted, what else do you want from me?”

“Is it true? What you said to Vance? ‘Even though--I feel like she doesn’t like my company I actually like talking to her. She’s so lonely, I feel bad that she doesn’t want to put herself first?’ I saw the messages between you both...”

“Wha-why would I lie?” He responded, “I know you think differently of me but I’ll keep saying it until it gets into your head.” You hesitantly gripped the hems of your dress, the black lace dress you were supposed to wear to the funeral you couldn't endure to attend, as well as this situation happening. “What else…have you said?”

He clenched his jaw, directing his eyes to the floor of the bedroom as you finally gained the strength to look at his face free from the cover. “...He was annoyed at the things I said about you, how I should practically just call you my girlfriend or something along those lines. How we were able to really connect, talk and not just a ‘hi-hello-how are you-yeah-here you go-your welcome for the help-bye see you next time.’” A faint smile grew on his face, finally glimpsing at you but made him withdraw since he didn’t think you’d look at him. “He said I was a sucker, and when it came to the conversation that led to this situation…I only told him which neighborhood you lived in, he found the house with his brother on his own.”

You parted your lips, “Oh…” 

“Okay I made a big fucking mistake, I know.”

“So,” You stood up, his eyes following you. “You really are genuine...”

He huffed out a smile, “...I do like you—”

SMACK!

A drastic, lash to his face that spiked up your ego. How dumbfounded he was, but you were spiteful. “You like me?” You reacted, grasping his jaw and meeting him back to you.

“W-Why did you do that?” He whimpered, troubled eyes trying to direct into yours. “W-Why?”

“You like me, Danny.” You asserted, “You like a girl like me.”

“What’s wrong with th-that?” He replied with a frowning expression.

“You have a thing for lonely girls? Girls who suffer and please everyone but themselves? What is that? A fantasy? A kink?”

“No I-I really do-"

“Danny…” You interrupted him by posing down on his lap, his eyes widening as his breathing weighed down at the sensation of you. “Do you like me still, even after I tied you up?” You could feel his body tremble, how he struggled to say something but didn’t have the guts to. Exposed shame, all he could was look down but that didn’t help either. “You had every right to do this, I don’t blame you for doing this to me.” He ignored your warm body on his, ignored sudden rushing thoughts that confused his feeble state. Yet, he disregarded why he failed to ignore all the said things.

“So if I decided to torture you, you’d still like me?” You wandered your eyes on his timid face.

…

“I..I did say…you can do whatever you want to me.” He hesitated slightly, “I know you still have that feeling.”

“That’s a dangerous thing to say.” You reacted, his eyebrows rising along with his eyes. “Whatever.” You reiterated.

“I-I mean it.” He whispered, “I do.”

Hit him again.

Pull his hair.

Let him go.

Bite him.

Touch him.

Kiss him.

A sigh rushed out your mouth, what were you thinking? Ashamed but, tempted. What was it? How the air softly lifted between you both? How you didn't have to look at him differently but still keep him on ten toes? The way how he said what he said? How it made you feel? You bit your thumb, displaying your confused yet excited state. “Danny?”

“What?”

“Whatever?”

“Whatever.” He insisted.

You softened your eyes at him, picking at his tie with the bothering sensation you had. “Yeah?” You huffed, raising your body for him to gaze upon you. “Okay then.”

“O-Okay then what?” He questioned, hesitantly looking at your lips. “What are you going to do?”

“If I were to use you, would you still like me?”

“Us-Use me?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, softly smoothing up on him which made him gasp. He scrutinized down at your lower half, his body shifting at the feeling. “Would you still like me, Danny?”

He huffed out, “Y/N…?”

You whispered in his ear, positioning your hands on his fragile chest. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing–I um,” Then there you went, favoring the pace up to a moderate tempo.

“Talk to me. Don't be shy.”

“Y-Your gonna do this to me?” He quivered.

You traveled your hands up his chest toward his neck, “You're saying that but you seem to like it.” He soon held back a wince, unhurriedly inching himself closer to you.

“I...I meant it in a good way—” Danny specified, “You can't do this a-and have me all tied up like this let me go Y/N.”

“No.” You huffed out a slight moan, placing yourself just inches away from his lips. “You said I can do whatever I want to you Danny. This is me believing you, forgiving you.”

He finally allowed a moan to escape his lips, how desperate he evolved after what you said. He tried to get out of the ropes, but with you pleasuring yourself on him he felt defenseless. He didn't have the intention to leave anymore, his motive was to touch you. But, all he could do was fantasize about that, he could tell he wasn't getting out any time soon.

“Forgive me then, really forgive me.” He prayed, snatching a kiss from you.

Danny’s aggression turned you completely on, his passionate yet eager lips desiring to taste more of you made you sing in his mouth. There wasn't a lie there either, he certainly was fond of you. And to imagine, what he’d do if he was free from the ropes? That thought ran through your tempting mind, but this was your hostage and this situation was his mistake. He was going to take you all in, with no confidence of free will from his end. You retained your grinding pace, fondling his face with your right hand and the left grasping on his neck. How his hair fell back off his shoulders gracefully as you made yourself overbearing to him in the kiss, there was no hesitation coming from the both of you. His whimpers, escaping in between the bothering kiss—you separated yourself to edge him on, and a bitten-lipped smile was what you responded with.

“I wanna touch you.” He whispered, “L-Let me touch you.”

“Touch me then.” You giggled with apparent desire, observing him unrestrain himself but failing once again. “Put your hands on me,” You whined out in a tease, your left hand trailing down his body to his lap. “I want your hands on me.”

He groaned, “D-Don’ tease me like that.”

“I'm not teasing, I'm being serious.” You entreated in a mocking tone of his, grazing your hand on his erection.

“Take it out.” He rumored in your ear, “If I can't touch you--put me inside of you please...”

“Danny.” You moaned, deeply gazing into his eyes.

“For...Forgive me. Y/N. You heard me right? Do whatever you want, fuck yourself with me so you can forgive me.” He kissed you again, dissolving at your hands finding his belt. The way he looked at you when you separated from him, neediness glistening in his pretty eyes, his excited breaths escaping his tempting lips. He was eager, more eager than you.

"You like lonely girls like me, Danny..." You huffed, exposing him through the zipper of his pants. "You fantasize about me, I can tell." You whispered, soon spreading your legs wider to slide your panties out of the way. "I fantasize, when you leave after those drop-offs, how I think if there would be a day you'd touch me in the way I want you to..."

His lips quivered, watching you slowly place your fingers inside of you. "Y/N..."

You softly moaned, eyes locked into his. "Do things to me in a way I'd want you to. Danny, why didn't you do it to me sooner?" You soon gradually took your fingers out, grasping the tip of his dick, wetting him with your desire.

…

“Pleasure yourself with me.” He deeply exhaled, his eyes pleading to you as you grinded on him in a slow tempo, his cock was deep inside you, kissing your walls as you embraced him tighter from the exhilarating pleasure. “I want you to.” He begged.

You wanted him free, have him revert the energy you were airing out but, for him to act so needy and desperately wanting to touch more of your generous body you didn't want to rid the fantasizing he had. You kissed him deeply, gripping his strands of hair as you could feel him thrust inside of you. Trying to put an effort the same way you were doing, but he felt like it wasn't enough. You soon began to lift yourself slowly, his lips opening at the sensation. “I know.” You panted at his response, dropping back down again in a riding motion.

“Faster.” He whined lowly, kissing your jaw as his fists clenched. “Faster princess.” He panted out a beg. You shrieked at that response, shivers rushing down your back while your pace picked up the momentum. Those kisses he gave mixed in groans, hearing him all close to you which bonded this moment intensely. You went close to his ear, forcing him to hear your erratic breaths. “Princess?” You recalled, holding in a moan.

“Y-You like that?” He questioned, trying to face you with his lips brushing against your cheek. “I jus’ wanted to see how that would make you feel.”

“What do you think Danny? How did it make me feel?” You finally directed yourself in his face, parted lips of his softly quivering. “Talk to me.”

Danny crept in for a kiss, “Made you feel…” However you backed away from him just to hear him finish. He whined, needing to feel more of you than just you fucking him and talking. “Don’ do that to me.” He groaned, “Fuck…”

A sinister but lustful smile grew on your face, “You feel so good, handsome. Call me those things I know you’re thinking about.” His head fell back, sensing your soft hand grasp the side of his neck which made you force him to look at you once again. Danny’s expressions were alluring, his trembling voice trying to respond but couldn’t resist your warm pussy fucking him. He was drunk from you, his endurance wasn’t lasting, you definitely could tell.

"Fuck me mommy." He strained, "Fuck me how you want it to forgive me."

“I wanna make this even more painful for you…” You panted with a kiss on his cheek.

"How are you gonna do that?" He grinned, holding back a moan.

And so, you got up from him, reverting a smile. With no words spoken from you after, he watched you turn and walk away from him. His little pathetic self, he thought you would leave him. "W-Wait don't go please-"

"Awe,' You giggled, approaching the bed and placing your hands on the thing he once had on, his blindfold. "You're cute."

He gulped slightly, leaning left and right to see what you had planned but when you approached him again, holding the blindfold behind you, he clenched his jaw. “What are you planning to do?” He quivered, soon feeling you place him inside you again but was caught off guard by the blindfold. You tied it back on him, whispering in his ear…

“I want you to fantasize, feel everything I do without seeing me do it…”

Danny threw his head back, “Oh my-”

“Feel it Danny.” You unbuttoned his shirt, beginning to ride him once again. “Feel me fuck you, I know you want to see me ride you I know.”

He moaned, your caressings, tone of voice, and the way you were riding him overpowered him completely. “Oh my god,” Danny exhaled, “Y-You…hate me.”

“I’m forgiving you.” You kissed him, subtly biting his lower lip as a whimper escaped your mouth. “Remember?”

You felt his body burst into relaxation, his cries sounding so pathetic in just the way you wanted it to be. He struggled to keep up with you at this point, trying to kiss you on your cheek as you ruled his entire body over. “I really am your v-victim.”

“You are my victim, handsome.” You grasped the sides of his face, looking into his blindfolded eyes. “Do you wanna see me?” You teased, kissing his nose.

“I wanna see you, touch you… I want-" He responded before moaning. “Wait-”

“Already? Danny you’re so pathetic.”

“I’m pathetic?” He whimpered, “I'm pathetic mommy?”

You tossed your head back in excitement, soon giving up and falling into his desperation. You yanked the blindfold off, hunching to his side and unbinding his hands free from the ropes, this was when you contradicted yourself. How quick Danny went to touch you, his hands roaming on your body as he attacked you with a profound kiss. His soft but rough hands traveled from your hips up to your breasts. This was truly his moment.

“Call me pathetic again, say it again to me please.” He panted, “Say it to me again. Make me do it inside you.”

“Danny.” You shrieked, feeling his wandering fingers travel down to your pussy. “Wait I-”

“Say it princess.” He begged, the tips of his index finger and middle finding your clit. He watched your reaction with a lustful gaze. Opening his mouth, mocking yours, he caressed your face with his free hand. “It feels good doesn’t it?” He questioned in his begging manner.

“Oh fuck.” You trembled, grinding your body against his cock and fingers. “You're so pathetic.” You finally gave in. “Do it inside.”

“You want it inside of you?” He expressed, tilting his head as he placed his thumb inside your mouth. He felt a hot, bothering feeling right after, hesitating on what to do as he reached more. “Y-You want me to mommy? Tell me how you want it.”

“I forgive you.” You sucked his thumb after,

“You forgi—oh fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

“I forgive you handsome.”

He raised his eyebrows, looking at your lips. “Mommy I’m gonna—kiss me, fucking kiss me please.”

One singular kiss. A kiss he made lasted for a moment. His tight grasp on you, the unison of moans like a harmony. He finished himself deep inside of you. The kiss soon separated, his breathing trying to regulate as you wiped off the slight sweat he had on his flushed face. He soon smiled slightly, tossing his head back in exhaustion. “Fuck.” He panted, “That was…”

“Hot?” You questioned, slowly moving up on him as he winced, his body jolting up at the sensitivity. “I know…” You smiled.

“W-Wait—” He exclaimed, feeling your arms relax on his shoulders. He soon winced once you came down slowly. “What are you doing?”

“Did you forget Danny?” You kissed his cheek once more, eyes of worry displaying on his face as he gripped your hips.

“Forget what?” He whispered…

.

.

.

“You’d still like me, even if I were to torture you…”

[birdiesaves]

THE MARTIAN ( novel by andy weir ) change as necessary !

mankind reaching out to send people to another planet for the very first time and expand the horizons of humanity blah, blah, blah. 

i’m pretty much fucked. 

they got the parades and fame and love of the world, i got a firm handshake and a hot cup of coffee when i got home.

i would only be “in command” of the mission if i were the only remaining person.

what do you know? i’m in command.

it wasn’t your fault. you did what you had to do. 

in your position i would have done the same thing. 

it was a ridiculous sequence of events that led to me almost dying.

everyone thinks i’m dead. 

ok, i’ve had a good night’s sleep, and things don’t seem as hopeless as they did yesterday.

i won’t be able to whip something up with tinfoil and gum.

fear my botany powers!

but hey, time is the one thing i’ve got.

i wonder if they'll ever find out what really happened.

i’ll spare you the math. the answer is _________

bleh. i’m going to bed

my life depends on you

i played a lot of dungeons and dragons.

i have an idiotically dangerous plan 

i suppose i’ll think of something. or die.

the answer is: i don’t know.

all i accomplished today was thinking up a plan that’ll kill me

also, i have duct tape. 

after a search of everyone’s personal items i found my answer.

that was sarcasm, by the way.

this all sounds like a great idea with no chance of catastrophic failure.

do you have any idea the magnitude of shitstorm this is gonna be?

how come aquaman can control whales? they’re mammals! 

i expected it to be cold, but jesus christ!

now, on to my next task: sitting around with nothing to do for 12 hours.

i ask for a picture and i get the fonz?

the whole world’s been rooting for you. 

really looking forward to not dying. 

please watch your language.

sorry we left you behind, but we don't like you.

you're sort of a smart-ass.

your request for “anything, oh god anything but disco” is denied.

no. you’ll fuck it up and die.

i took it apart, found the problem, and fixed it.

i don’t see anything... i can hear it, but... it’s down here somewhere, but i don’t know where.

the subtle and refined “hurl my body at the wall” technique had some flaws. 

named after the greek goddess who traveled the heavens with the speed of wind. she's also the goddess of rainbows.

i'm not giving up. just planning for every outcome. it's what i do.

your poster outsold the rest of ours combined.

why are you such a nerd?

you should try to be more cool. wear dark glasses and a leather jacket. carry a switchblade.

you started my training by buying me a beer.

so now i have to do boring-ass experiments with test tubes and zzzzzzzzzz....

frankly, i suspect you're a super villain.

just once i'd like something to go to plan, ya know?

no? ok... what was that!? oh, nothing? ok...

for now i just want to go home.

there's always hope

are we just watching a tragedy play out?

you’ll survive this. i don't know how, but you will. 

i've defiled enough historical sites for now.

tomorrow night, i'll sink to an all new low!

tomorrow night, i'll be at rock bottom!

be a smart-ass to a guy seven levels above you. see how that works out.

i remember when you were shy

the attitude comes with the job

and by “enjoying” i mean “hating so much i want to kill people.”

there aren't many people who can say they've vandalized a three billion dollar spacecraft. but i'm one of them.

what's our role in all this? if something goes wrong, what can we do?

how do you come up with this shit?

i admit it's fatally dangerous, but consider this: i'd get to fly around like iron man.

i need you to come back in and make a bomb.

i knew that guy was a mad scientist!

i think we should just go with my iron man idea.

well if you won't let us then- wait... wait a minute... i'm looking at my shoulder patch and it turns out i'm the commander. 

give me a minute. you're the first person i've seen in ______.

i think about the sheer number of people who pulled together just to save my sorry ass, and i can barely comprehend it.

i represent progress, science, and the interplanetary future we’ve dreamed of for centuries. 

they did it because every human being has a basic instinct to help each other out. it might not seem that way sometimes, but it’s true.

yes, there are assholes who just don’t care, but they’re massively outnumbered by the people who do.