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bingbongsupremacy · 1 year

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The Letter Pt. 1

Pairing: Ellie Williams x fem! reader

Warnings: She/Her pronouns used, Outing

Summary: Ellie and Y/N are in two very different social groups at school. One day when Y/N's crush is cruelly exposed in front of the whole school, Y/N is brutally shot down. Finally, five years later the two run into each other again.

High School AU

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3

*Not Proof Read* TLOU Masterlist

*****

Ellie. Williams.

Star basketball player and Student Council Vice President, all while being in multiple clubs. There's nothing she can't do.

Ellie's done literally everything. She's played every sport, been in every club, been in multiple art shows. She's one of the coolest people there is. Obviously everyone loves her. Who wouldn't? She's talented and pretty.

" You're staring again. " Dina teases.

" Oh shut up. " I grumble, poking at my suspicious school lunch. I'm not quite sure what it is but I don't think I want to find out.

" Just go ask her out already. What's the worst that can happen? " Jesse asks between mouthfuls of a sandwich. " I mean, I asked out Dina and here we are three months later. "

I roll my eyes. " It's different. I don't even know if she's into girls. "

" Just ask. " Jesse states in a 'duh' tone.

Dina shakes her head. " Jesse stop. Let Y/N take her time. "

I glance back at the long table across the room. Ellie eyes crinkle slightly as she laughs at something one of her friends says. She slaps the guy on the back, her short hair falling into her face.

She's so pretty.

I've heard rumors from my classmates. I've heard about her hooking up with a couple of the cheerleaders after games. She's never had a girlfriend though. At least one she's talked about.

Even if they weren't rumors, would she go for a girl like me? We run in two different circles. She never hangs out from anyone outside of her clique unless it's to help tutor other students.

Even then it's because it looks good on college applications, not because she wants to. She's admitted it when helping me out with science homework.

The bell rings and students begin to scatter. I make my way towards one of the small rooms behind the library where our study sessions our held. I pull out my notebooks and get ready to see Ellie.

I pull out my sketch book, flipping through the pages. One page catches my eye.

The Letter.

I spent all night working on it, figuring out the perfect thing to say. I ended up deciding not to give it to her when I saw her hanging out with some guys from the football team. I chickened out.

Maybe some day.

I turn to the next page, deciding to doodle while I wait.

" Hey! Sorry I'm late. " Ellie drops her bag onto table next to me, starting me. " Had to grab my books. "

" Fuck. " I mutter, blinking.

Ellie smirks at my shock.

" It's fine. " I shut the book, pushing it to the side.

Ellie sits down next to me, pulling her chair next to mine. " Alright, where were we? "

_____Third P.O.V._____

" I'm gonna go to the restroom. Be right back. " Y/N hops up, heading towards the door.

Ellie nods, not bothering to tear her eyes away from the textbook in front of her.

" Hey, Els. " A voice greets.

Ellie glances up to spot one of her friends. " Oh hey, Viv. " Ellie greets.

Vivian glances around the room. " Tutoring another dork? " She asks, picking at Y/N's items.

Ellie frowns slightly. " Well, yeah but I think she's okay, ya know. Like, she's pretty smart. Just not doing so well with AP physics. "

Vivian rolls her eyes. " You're too...nice, Ellie. You're too kind to say what everyone thinks. " Vivian lifts up a small black book. She flips through the pages in, clearly unamused at what's inside. " She's no Davinci. "

Ellie's unsure what to say. Sure, what Vivian's doing is fucked up. She'd hate it if someone looked through her shit, but she worked so hard to make it into the popular group. She spent months trying to fit in. She wasn't going to lose it now on a random girl because she feels a little bad.

Deciding not to feed into Vivian's antics, Ellie remains silent.

" Oh my god. " Vivian's eyes widen as she pauses at a page.

" What? " Ellie asks, curiosity getting the best of her. Whatever Y/N drew can't be that bad, right? Then again, she didn't really know the girl. Maybe she had some fucked up mind or some shit. She seemed normal though. How bad could it really be?

Vivian shakes her head, a giggle slipping through her lips. " This is Y/N's book, right? " She tears out a page from the book before setting the book back where it was before.

Ellie slowly nods. " Yeah...why? "

Vivian smirks. " No reason. You'll find out at the assembly. Speaking of assembly, I've gotta get to the gym. It's gonna start soon. Be there. Make sure Y/N's there too. " Vivian turns to leave. " She's not gonna want to miss this. "

Ellie doesn't respond. She watches as Vivian leaves the room with the paper in hand. What the fuck was on that paper?

Y/N makes it back into the room a few minutes later. " Alright. " She grins. " Let's get the worksheet done. "

Ellie nods, her mind otherwise occupied.

The next ten minutes seem to fly buy quickly. All Ellie can think about is the paper. What was Vivian going to do? What did Y/N have on that paper? Should Ellie bring Y/N to the gym? If she didn't, what would Vivian do?

The bell rings, signaling the end of study hall. Y/N and Ellie gather their things.

" Hey, are you going to the Assembly? " Ellie asks, trying to keep her tone calm.

Y/N shoots her a smile. " Yeah! I am. My friend's in the orchestra."

Ellie nods. " Nice. I'll see you there? "

Y/N's heart begins to quicken. Usually their conversations don't stray further than homework or classes. " Yeah. I'll keep an eye out for you. "

Ellie shoots Y/N a small smile, causing butterflies to erupt in Y/N's stomach.

The two break apart for their next class, both of their minds racing. One mind full of excitement at the thought of possibly running into Ellie at the assembly and the other full of dread at what's to come from the assembly.

------- First P.O.V.-------

I look around the gym, my hands slightly clammy. I eventually spot Dina in the corner, preparing her violin. I quickly send her a small wave before returning to my search.

" No need to search. You're favorite person's arrived. " Jesse jokes, taking a seat next to me.

I roll my eyes. " Ha ha. You're just who I was looking for. "

Jesse's eye brows quirk in surprise. " Really? "

With a laugh I shake my head. " Fuck no. "

" Ouch. " Jesse places a hand over his heart. " Straight to the heart. "

I grin. Finally I spot a familiar auburn haired girl a few rows below. Beside Ellie is the Vivian Logan, the student body President. Aka the school's resident bitch.

Ellie doesn't seem to notice me. She takes a seat next to Vivian, immediately crushing my soul.

I knew it was a long shot she'd sit next to me but a girl can dream, right?

" Finally. It's starting. " Jesse grumbles impatiently.

The orchestra and band play their pieces ending in the school erupting in applause. Finally, the principal makes his way towards the center of the gym.

" Students! Thank you all for joining us today! I'd like to welcome this year's student body who helped put together today's assembly! Give them a hand, will you? " Principal Clark claps while the student body filters down to the middle of the gym. " Now, your president, Vivian, has a few words to say. Take it away, Vivian. "

Principal Clark hands the microphone over to Vivian who accepts it happily.

" Hey guys! First of all, I just wanted to say I'm so excited to be up here today! " She excitedly states.

" So excited! " Jesse mocks.

I gently slap his shoulder. " Be nice. " I chuckle. " She hasn't done anything. "

" Yet. " Jesse mutters. " She always pulls something. How the fuck did she get elected? "

" Because she was voted hottest on the hottest vs nottest list last year. " I remind him. Stupid list. Why the fuck would someone waste their time making something like that?

" Guys...I know last week was the talent show but we have a late entry. A very late entry. " Vivian pulls out a small piece of paper. On the back is a familiar drawing.

A snake.

My heart stops.

No.

No fucking way.

How the hell could she get it?

It has to be a different paper. Right?

Unless...

" This person wrote something so beautiful I just had to share. This is actually to you, Ellie. " Vivian looks over to Ellie who furrows her eyebrows in confusion. " Lucky ducky. "

" Jesse. " I whisper.

" What? " Jesse asks in confusion.

I never told him about the note. I never told anyone. Fuck fuck fuck.

" I wrote that. " I begin to panic. " I fucking wrote that. "

Jesse's eyes widen. " What? Fuck, are you sure? How do you know? It could be anyone's. We haven't even heard it yet. "

" It's mine. Jesse it's fucking mine. "

Everyone's going to know what I fucking wrote.

Vivian clears her throat. " Let's begin. " She smiles brightly. " Dear Ellie, gosh, I'm so nervous writing this to you right now. I just can't keep it in. I feel like I need to tell you. I've thought about telling you for months. Actually for a couple years. I've just been so nervous. " Vivian mocks. With every word she acts it out, her words exaggerated. " I really like you. I don't know if you like me back. I just feel like I need to tell you. Whenever I see you my heart begins to race. I really like you Ellie Williams. And if there's any chance you possibly like me back, please let me know. Sincerely, Y/N. " With that, Vivian points at me.

I feel the stares of everyone around.

Giggles and whispers flood the room. The sound of people mocking me bounces off the walls.

" Fuck, Y/N... " Jesse says, obviously mortified for me.

None of that matters though.

All I can focus on is the horrified expression on Ellie's face. Her eyes stare straight into mine, burning a hole into my body. Her body is tense and unmoving underneath her jeans and open button up.

Vivian's laugh brings me back into reality. " Ellie, what do you have to say to this out burst of love. Do you feel the same? Personally, I think it's cute. She has a little crush. A little cringy but hey, it's flattering. " Vivian shoves the microphone in front of Ellie.

Ellie's cheeks turn a dark shade of red. She blinks. " No! Fuck no. " Ellie shakes her head, taking a step back. " Y/N, this would never fucking happen. " She gestures at the two of us. " No fucking way. No, Y/N. You're not my type. "

My heart shatters. She's not gay. She doesn't like me. Fuck.

Suddenly everything feels worse. The laughter gets louder. The points and stares become more obvious. The room seems to close around me, leaving me trapped in a room full of people making fun of me.

" That's enough! " The principal shouts.

His voice seems far away.

It's too late. The damage has already been done. Everyone knows I like Ellie. Everyone knows I like girls. What the fuck am I going to do?

I feel a strong arm pull me up.

Jesse leads me down the bleacher stairs. He pushes open the doors and ushers me out. The laughter of my classmates slowly dies out as the door shuts. Not completely though. I can still hear bits and pieces.

" Fuck, Y/N. Are you okay? " Jesse asks while rubbing my shoulder to console me.

I shake my head. " My life is over. "

My life might not have actually been over but at that moment it truly did feel like it was.

#fanfic #fanfiction #ellie the last of us #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x reader #ellie x you #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x plus size reader #ellie x reader #ellie x y/n #tlou 2

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drowninginblox · 10 months

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OPLA! Roronoa Zoro Drabbles- how you met + how you joined the crew

I am drunk off this man right now. If he'd let me, I'd love to get to know him over a bottle of wine and a sirloin steak. Even though he's more of a booze man ofc. Below are some stray thoughts I have about him since I am slightly obsessed lol. I hope y'all enjoy my romantic/self-indulgent drabbles. One more thing- all of these HCs will surround an MC who identifies as Female.

Edit: hahaha umm.. happy late borth Zoro. Sorry for being late lol

I don't think you'd meet Zorro when he was young. Rather, you'd be on an otherwise unremarkable island or boat somewhere on the east blue, make your way to the grand line (ya fucking idiot). For some reason, to him anyway, you'd be the most remarkable thing about that rest stop. That one girl in that one bar he had a conversation with.

Whenever he thinks back on you, your smile would always be the first thing that comes to mind. Then your laugh. And then that side-eye glance you'd send his way when you ask him what he's thinking about. Usually after a contemplative sip of whatever you were indulging yourself on.

There are a lot of things that Zoro enjoys in life, but as much as he is the strong and silent type of guy, I think he enjoys a worthwhile conversation far more. So long as it means something to either of you. He hates pointless banter if there's nothing backing it.

When you see Zoro again, it's on the mainland shortly after the beginning of the time skip (haha spoilers 'LA watchers. We're in for a two-year time skip at some point in the series). You two meet up on land, just a skip away from where you two were gonna break away to your respective destinations. Completely on accident btw

Yall decide to spend the night together. Nothing zesty happens, Only wholesome cuddling and a long conversation that drifts into the early hours of the morning.

Yall wakes up at noon. He lets it slip that he's gonna train for a bit before meeting up with some friends at a very remote port god knows where, and you promise yourself two things.

You're not gonna drag this man down

You're gonna be one hell of a worthwhile pirate

So when y'all break away, promising each other that this definitely isn't gonna be the last time y'all meet, you decide to become a pro marksman. The gun kind, not the slingshot kind (don't wanna come after Ussop's brand lol)

So you do that for a year and a half before you make your way to the meet-up spot. You get there a day early, and during breakfast, you see Zoro and this blond bitch running somewhere. Naturally, you dropped everything (literally dropped your food back on the table) and jumped from the balcony to chase these mother fuckers to the docks where (spoilers) the sunny was parked.

It isnt until Zoro's halfway up the ship that you yell his name. He turns to see you, and it's like that night from a year ago all over again. He's got half a mind to jump down to you, but Luffy looks over and asks what's going on.

Everyone's teasing Zoro's ass bc of "the side piece he's picked up"

Ussop and Choper are asking him what your name is and where he found you

Sanji is on you immediately

Nami is asking for a fee to get on the ship

Franky is wondering why you built differently compared to every other girl he's seen (I like to make my OP OC's anything but Oda's depiction of the fem. figure. Mostly cubby and/or built. Sometimes both.)

Robin is wondering what's in your backpack since you look well packed (It's books. Fuck you I'm making physical fanfiction canon to one piece)

Zoro, meanwhile, is (mostly) worried about Luffy since he's captain.

Luffy looks you up and down, asks what you can do, and you say you're an alright marksman. Ussop is up and arms at this and Luffy backs him up saying that yall already have a marksman (and that you're a girl anyway so that isn't even the right term)

You say that you're knowledgeable in medicine and you're done your fair share of odd jobs since you've picked up a few things as a barmaid.

Luffy ponders this, countering that they already have a doctor but could always use the support when needed. He looks back to the crew and asks them what they think as well, wich surprises you a little. Nami and Robin would appreciate another afab person on the crew but supplies are tight as is, Franky thinks you're cool, same for Chopper. Sanji comments on supplies as well but he wouldn't mind if another girl is on board. Ussop is a little threatened by your presence and is against your addition entirely.

Zoro almost yells at him but before he starts, you get on your knees and properly ask him, along with the rest of the crew to stay. Luffy asks you why, and you say that you want to live. Live life with people you know and do it to the fullest. You then look back to Ussop, who is staring you down. "I didn't come to replace you. I came to follow, and hopefully live up to the people he adores," You glance over to Zoro, who is surprised you admitted that in front of his (totally not) family. "He holds you all to such a high standard. I wanna be a part of that."

Ussop just tells you to stand up and looks at Luffy. Luffy lets you on board, with the condition that you show off your skills. You do so.

Zorro helps you on and holds your hand as y'all are leaving port.

#one piece zoro #one piece #one piece spoilers #one piece anime #one piece live action #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #live action zoro x reader

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his-tamine · 3 months

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// venty stuff (booooo)

so i'm like. pretty damn close to homelessness.

in short: house fire, moving, parents divorce, custody battle, constant rent late-fees, car getting repo'ed, issues *with* the house itself, and we have to find a place to live by the end of this month, maybe into early july. there's nothing around here under $1,500 /mo. nothing. because of rapid gentrification. affordable places outside our city, but can't leave this one because of the school district. mom working 2 jobs to provide for 3 people, adding up to 12+ hours a day. including weekends. I can't help. I have no job. I can't drive. I have no diploma/GED yet. hell, I don't even have a fucking ID yet.

I try to help in whatever ways I can, but it's not enough. I see the toll it's taking on my mom, and it hurts so bad. i just want her to live for a long time. but somedays, i'm not sure.

oh and on top of that? we need to have somewhere to live by the end of this fucking month. by the end of june. if we're *really* lucky, into early July. and it's already the 14th, and we still literally have nowhere to go. I feel so trapped and angry and scared. I just wanna peel my skin off and throw it at somebody...

god i swear i fucking hate this town, i hate this city, i hate this country, i hate this fucking place,,

#spiidervent #except its actually a spider VENT this time #ughhghgh #is there *actually* a light at the end of the tunnel?#or is everyone just fucking with me?#cw: mentions of potential homelessness & stuff

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jabmirach · 2 years

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What it’s like to have Moon in Libra and in the 7th House

I’ve been thinking about this lately...

My last serious relationship was last year. However, a few months in, we’d gotten into a fight. My boyfriend at the time, we’ll call him “Tyler” (that’s not his real name) and I had had heated discussions about whether men should be the primary provider or if the woman should split things with him 50/50. I was really on guard about this issue because deep down I’d been envious of my friends who were married to men who took care of them, entirely. I mean... they had the option to work, but these men offered for them to not work and to “work if they wanted to.” I was jealous of this because I tend to attract men who want things to be 50/50, being that I’m in such a demanding career. I appear independent from the outside. But what I want more than anything is to attract someone who desires to take care of me. Yes, I work hard. Yes, I’m doing fine alone. But I don’t want to be alone. And I want someone to look after me. I want someone to take care of me. Like a Tuxedo Mask.

So being that I was already sensitive about the issue, one day I’m sitting at work complaining to him through text about how I didn’t like working at the office and am jealous of him working from home. So he sends me this job post listing that offers WFH, and he totally meant to help me by sending me this job post. But of course, I was LIVID because... why wouldn’t you offer for me to quit and take care of me? Why would you send me another job post to KEEP WORKING lol. So in my frustration with his mindset, I impulsively broke up with him. Totally on impulse...

Unfortunately, I broke up with him the month leading up to New Years. I had plans to go with my friends to Las Vegas for New Years. And I went without him, because we were broken up. Deep down, I was sad, and I regretted it. But when I got to Vegas, I regretted it SO MUCH MORE...

It was about 40 degrees Fahrenheit on New Years Eve night in Vegas. There was this one particular event my friends and I went to - it was a club. So I got all cute and sexy, wearing this outfit showing off a ton of skin, RIGHT? Super cute. I get there - and to my HORROR, I find out that it’s an outdoor event. The indoor option was either V.I.P. or required an outrageous $400 fee or something ludicrous like that. Wanna know something about me? I HATE THE COLD. No, like, it hurts me to be cold so badly that my brain literally stops working when I’m uncomfortably cold.

So I’m at this event - but it’s nearing midnight, and there’s no other clubs to go to, because the lines would’ve been too long at other clubs, and if my friends and I had left at that time, we would’ve missed the countdown. The whole point is to BE somewhere for the countdown. And we were already here. So I’m freezing my ass off, in a terrible mood... and I look around, and I start to see men with their women they came with, holding them, warming them up from the cold.

My ex and I had been texting back and forth... slowly entertaining the idea of getting back together. Here’s how I blew it :) I texted him that I was super super cold, and he had told me before that if he takes longer than 5 minutes to text back, then he has completed his thought and there are no more texts to follow. He ignores my text about it being cold and responds to some other text I sent. I wait 5 minutes. My hope was that he would say something like, “I wish I was there to warm you up.” Because honestly my text to him was my way of playing the damsel in distress - it was my way of flirting, it was a cry for help. But of course 5 minutes go by, and I notice that he says nothing about keeping me warm. So, of course, my emotions ruined everything again. In a rage, I send him a text saying something like “I’ll just find someone else to keep me warm then.” I know it was mean. I knew it was when I sent it to him. I knew it. I was pissed. I know... and I braced myself for his text back to be something negative because my text was super risky. But even though I braced myself, nothing could prepare me for his response and how much it shattered me.

His response was that because I would say or do something with the intent to hurt him, he thinks we should stop seeing each other. Yes, we had been broken up already, but we were texting back and forth as if we were going to get back together. But the tone of this text was somber. There was a sense of resolution to it. In retrospect... My emotions really do get the best of me, take over, and fuck things up. I wish he understood where I was coming from. I wish he could say to himself, “she’s just trying to make me jealous because she’s hurt. I should go comfort her.” But nope. I don’t get luck like that.

Side rant: Only water signs get understanding from people like that. I’m an Earth sign. I’m supposed to “do better” at all times. It’s not fair. I want to be able to express myself emotionally the way water signs do with their sarcasm and revenge, and people just automatically understand that it stems from hurt emotions. But not me. I don’t get that type of understanding. Earth signs are expected to be calm and collected and have it all under control at all times.

Back to the story. So I spend the rest of New Years crying in the freezing cold. I cried through the countdown. It was great...

But when I got back from the trip, we actually did get back together. And he told me that he had been planning on surprising me by driving to Vegas to be with me for New Years before I broke up with him. And this has been on my mind so much lately. If I had only restrained myself from my emotional impulse to break up, I would have been one of those women being hugged by their man in the cold. I would’ve been one of those women who had someone meaningful to kiss at midnight. Someone who was there to stay. Someone committed, someone who brought security.

But I realized... there’s something wrong with me to have craved having someone that desperately. Why can’t I just have fun on my own? Why can’t I just live in the moment - no matter where I am - not having a care in the world if I’m securely in a relationship, or hugged, held, provided warmth, and kissed at special moments like midnight on New Years Eve? The desperation, the absolute heartbreak of not having that special person. This is the curse of Moon in Libra. In the 7th house. It’s a double whammy.

#moon in libra #moon in 7th house

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littlelambdrgnfly · 1 year

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hi are things going any better? xx whats new?

To be honest, not really. 😣 I’m still pretty sick with upper respiratory issues. I ended up having to go back to the doctor, got a bunch of pills and had a whole drama yesterday because my prescriptions got delivered to the wrong house. The pharmacy told me they were at my old address, but I didn’t see them there, so I had like a 30 minute long discussion with the pharmacist, only for my next door neighbor to bring it over from his place late last night. It seriously seems like nothing can go right, at least not without at least one issue. I finally got a new bed, thanks to my parents, but I couldn’t even set it up for a week because one of the pieces was defective and I had to find a new screw. Even on top of my physical problems, I’ve been feeling pretty shitty mentally. I just feel so burned out and anxious about everything. I’m lonely but I can’t force myself to talk to friends or meet new people. (I also don’t really want to see any people when I sound like a bulldog breathing.) I’m ready to start looking for a new job, but everything sounds lame, and if it doesn’t, I feel unqualified. I’ve been putting off canceling this one service for literally months because I have to call and I feel like they’re going to try really hard to guilt me into staying, or tell me that there’s going to be a fee to cancel, and it just makes me so fucking nervous for some reason, I just hate it. I just wish I could change so much about my life but I don’t even know where to start.

#thanks for reaching out 💖#I tend to isolate myself #and I’ve been doing that big time

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ravenousgoblin · 2 years

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Literally hate my Primary so much that I’ve been avoiding making an appointment with her to get my inhaler refills until I find an asthma specialist to go to instead but I’m such a procrastinator that I haven’t found one. Instead, I let my alotted refills run out and now she won’t refill them without me coming to see her again, which is dumb

She basically treats me like I don’t know anything about the asthma that I’ve been dealing with for 24 fucking consecutive years. My literal entire life. Like, I was told when I was like 5 that it was clear I’d never outgrow this asthma, like a lot of people do, but she doesn’t listen to me and won’t provide me with a ForeverScrip which I know exist because I’ve had them before from past asthma specialists.

But now, I am out of inhalers and am having to rely on my breathing treatments on the nebulizer. Ma wanted to make sure I saw her before our insurance ran out just to be sure but, again, I hate her so much that I procrastinated more than I normally would so now I’m fucked and am gonna have to pay an out of pocket fee for her AND the inhaler.

I know Walmart sells cheap inhalers but they’re soooooo fucking bad for you. I’ve had a few in the past and they’re not great, but if you’re in a pinch, no time to complain, right? Beggars can’t be choosers. Thought I still had my last one that me and ma saved just in case for emergencies, but I guess not. So I’ve had to take a second breathing treatment tonight.

Usually I’d be fairly okay, but I’ve been smoking a lot of weed lately with Sergio, it’s cold af down here, and I’m actually sick rn. Like, I feel bad too bc I had to wake ma up at 1am to see if we actually kept and if we did then where was it but she said no. So I woke her for nothing basically. I know she’s some sort of disappointed in me for not making an appointment. If she’s not, then I sure as hell am.

Omfg and she uses this website that you can use to make appointments instead of calling if you want and I went to try to do that but it’s telling me to pick a specific reason for an appointment and it’s literally only letting me pick a mammogram. And even then it’s like yeeeeeea ur not really in the age range 😬

#sorry long ass rant

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sukirichi · 3 years

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happy little accidents

— Life is a series of unfortunate events, but sometimes, there are happy little accidents.

REQUEST. (accidental pregnancy, fuck buddies au) + childhood friends to lovers + baby moments with father! megumi

CONTENT/WARNINGS. slight smut, slight exhibitionism (I think? there’s a CCTV lmao) just daddy megumi uwu

NOTES. hi anon, thank you for requesting and joining the event! I have to admit...I don’t really know how to write this and I just had to ask my mother about her experiences in pregnancy LMAO. I apologize in advance if this sucks, I’m pretty good at fluff but domestic and cute stuff with children isn’t my expertise asggkhl I’m awkward around babies and kids so anyways, I hope you like it! OH AND ALSO I HAVE A CAMEO LMAO

Megumi’s hands runs up under your shirt, bringing about a shiver forward when his cold fingers come into with your warm skin. You feel him smile onto the kiss, his grip nothing but teasing before he brushes the underside of your breast, prompting you to grip closer to his hoodie. You and him were childhood friends; having always liked one another until playing house was no longer a game a but dream, but his family was too strict and controlling – they’ve made it clear long ago this relationship could never and would never happen.

His Uncle Naoya made sure of it.

But that didn’t stop the both of you. All the way from highschool until now in your university days, you and Megumi are still stuck together by the hip, occasionally fucking whenever time allowed. Weekdays are spent staring longingly at each other in the hallways, the weekends flourishing into finally’s and hushed kisses under the sheets, completely unaware of the world you both trudged in.

Today was one of those days, and you’re nothing less of passionate as you swipe your tongue out to taste his lips, smiling when you realize he’s also grown used to wearing your mint flavoured lip balm. “Mhm, Megumi, I missed you,” you placed your legs beside his arms, a contented sigh entering his mouth as he closed his eyes.

“You miss me? I’m always around you,” he reminds you, pulling away momentarily to tug your shirt to the side where he leaves a soft patch of kisses. “Never gonna leave your side, baby.”

“You better not. I’m the best you’ll ever have.”

Megumi nods wholeheartedly in agreement, not wasting time before he pulls you closer to him. You’re almost weightless as you crash on top of him, hands tangled into the other’s hair and his large palm squeezing your breast. It produces a breathy moan from you, a thread of saliva connecting your lips when it comes again – that hellish bitter and sour bile that flows up to your throat. You push yourself off him and run to the bathroom, the content of your stomachs poured while your groans echo around the room.

He’s beside you in an instant, crouching beside you to pull your hair up and pat your back. Once you’ve finished throwing up, you clutch at the indistinguishable bloating of your stomach, leaning back into his touch while you slowly regain your composure.

Your head is throbbing uncomfortably again, one that wouldn’t go away no matter how much you press your thumbs against it.

“Wh-what’s wrong? Are you sick or something?”

You chuckle a bit from the way he frets over you, hands tilting your cheeks side to side while he pales, a sheen of worry visible on his hairline. He’s always been such a worrywart. You look behind him and see the box of condoms in your half-open medicine cabinet, the sight making your heart drop in your chest.

“Megs...when was the last time we had sex?”

“Well,” he scratches the back of his head, “We’ve both been busy from uni, so...last month, I guess? It’s been a long time.”

You swallowed audibly. You’ve recently gotten that box of condoms because if you remember correctly, last time you both skipped straight to the deed after realizing you ran out of it. Eyes flicking over his confused ones, your throat ran dry and itchy from the throw up session, your voice low as you say, “I’m three weeks late on my period, Megs.”

He looks just as shocked as you are, but he doesn’t give you the time to recover before he rushes out into your apartment. For a moment, you’re left heartbroken at the cold bathroom tiles, thinking that he left, but Megumi comes back a few minutes later, a pregnancy test kit and some chocolates inside a plastic bag. Your eyes widen when he gently ushers you to sit on the toilet, his feet tapping impatiently on the floor while you both wait for the result.

And there it is.

The timer on his phone goes off. Megumi rushes beside you, his chin resting on your shoulder as he blinks at the test kit. He turns to you and blinks in question, wondering what the hell it meant.

“’Gumi...it’s positive,” you cry out, sending him into a stagger backwards when you jump at him. Thankfully, he’s carried you too many times to count that he’s natural at hoisting you into his arms, still rendered speechless as you announce, “You’re going to be a dad!”

It’s been five whole months since you and Megumi turned into being stable fuck buddies, intent on hiding your relationship from both your families, into homeless and young parents whose fear over life and the future only increased tenfold now with the growing baby inside you.

You still remember that dreadful moment when both of you are kicked out into your family estate, Megumi’s Uncle Naoya especially enraged over the news. He doesn’t even give his nephew a chance to pack his bags before he signals the bodyguards to escort you out, then takes away all Megumi’s privileges and former luxury of being part of the Zenin Clan. You assume he’d want to strangle his pitiful Uncle for the never ending mistreatment, but your now boyfriend is nothing but happy, relieved that he’s been freed from the tight reins that always got in both your way.

Unbeknownst to the controlling Zenin Clan head, his wife is much more cunning than he is. He knows his wife always had some sorts of tricks hidden up in her sleeve, but even you were surprised when Megumi’s Aunt Suki shows up in your college dorm one day, throwing a set of keys your way with a wink before driving off back to become Naoya’s beloved trophy wife.

She lent you one of her high-estate apartments and even a humble car, silently wiring fees into your bank account since Megumi’s was already shut down.

Truly, if it wasn’t for her, you and Megumi wouldn’t be able to live this comfortably no matter how much both of you worked your ass off.

Now, none of you had to worry about not getting to make ends meet, no more worrying about putting your health at risk by working two jobs a day along with university – you and Megumi agreed to take advantage of her kindness just until the baby was born, opting to live quietly and comfortably in your shared home that would soon be filled with more memories. Well, as comfortably as you both could anyway, since pregnancy – although a beautiful experience – wasn’t always rainbows and unicorns.

Megumi comes home one day, the food you’ve always been craving from the Chinese restaurant from the other town present inside his bag. He’s tired from uni, even more so that he shares your burden of becoming new parents, but every time he comes home to you, all his exhaustion is wiped away, especially with the evident growth of your belly.

Your boyfriend runs up to you after placing the food on the counter, his arms wide open to get a hug – he’s gotten extremely touchy ever since the pregnancy – when you reel away from him, face turning green.

Your fingers come to pitch at your nose, eyes narrowed at his confused pout. “Ugh, Megumi, your deodorant stinks.”

“You were the one who got this for me, though,” his brows furrow as he lifts his sleeve up to sniff himself. He doesn’t smell bad... “You said you liked it on me,” he mumbles more to himself than you, staying still in his spot when he sees how colourless you’ve become. “Why are you looking at me like that? I showered today.”

“I can’t stand the smell of you, I can’t, gosh,” pushing past him, you rush to the toilets, the morning sickness well present all the way until sundown as you throw up. Megumi stands at the doorway, hands extended in front of him as he’s unsure whether he could help you or not. You firmly shake your head at him, lips turned into a sneer. “No, don’t get near me or I will honestly whack you with my purse, Megumi. Get rid of that deodorant and find a scent free one or something.”

Megumi is left with a slack jaw when you hop into bed afterwards, too tired and irritated to finish your papers. Seeing that he should probably do the same and pamper you instead, Megumi is silent as he crawls under the covers, only to be kicked out with a harsh kick to his thigh and a fiery, “Get out!”

“Nobara,” he whines into the phone, too fearful to even look at the bedroom at the thought that you’d feel his gaze and get even angrier. Your instincts and senses sharpens with each passing day; he won’t risk it. “My girlfriend hates me!”

“I could see why.”

Megumi groans at his friend’s flippant tone, the sound of a nail file grazing acrylics mixed with lo-fi music playing from the other line. “I’m serious – she doesn’t even want me a foot near her! When I tried to join her on the bed, she literally woke up just to hit me with a pillow. Right in the face!”

“Let me guess, you’re banned from the bedroom and staying on the couch?”

“Yeah, I am,” he sulks on the couch, “I don’t know why she hates me. I can’t imagine what I did wrong.”

“You don’t have to do anything wrong for a pregnant woman to hate you, Fushiguro. It’s not your fault your face is just really annoying,” Megumi makes a sound of protest before slapping a hand over his lips, nervous gaze darting at your door again. He relaxes into the seat; you’ve probably fallen asleep. “But on a more serious note, I think it’s the hormones. She’s erratic right now and you can’t blame her, she’s literally growing a child inside of her, dude, are you crying?”

“She might divorce me because of my deodorant.”

“Idiot, you two aren’t even married!” Nobara bellows loud enough that Megumi pulls the phone away from his ear, waiting until she’s calmed down and continues speaking like she didn’t just burst his ear drums. “Listen, just be extra sweet and careful around her, okay? Don’t open your mouth as well unless you want to die. Now get a notepad or something, we’re going to devise the best Baby Mama Seduction Plan that is guaranteed to win her heart.”

“You’re a lifesaver, Nobara!”

“Hmph, you owe me tickets to that fashion show though. Get your rich ass uncle to pull some connections or something.”

“Nobara, you know I can’t—”

“Oh shit, is that your girl about to kick you in the face?” Megumi yelps as his body flips at the direction of your room, both hands raised in surrender with his phone pressed between his ear and shoulder. He sighs – the door is still closed – he should be safe for now. Meanwhile, Nobara snickers cockily, almost as if she could see everything. As always, Nobara was triumphant. “That’s right, we both don’t want that to happen, so stick to your end of the deal man.”

Megumi stays up the whole night to execute Nobara’s plan. It’s tiring to run back and forth in the open convenience stores just to fill the fridge up with all your favourite food, but Megumi is determined to have you accept him again, even if he knows you’re not actually rejecting him.

By the time you’ve woken up, all beautiful and glowing as you pad out your room, Megumi stands up straight to conceal his body ridden with exhaustion. He just wants to make you happy.

“What’s all this?”

“You’ve been working hard,” he starts off unsurely, a hand scratching the back of his head as he gauges for your reaction. You plop down on the dining table and don’t scowl as you take a whiff of the food, blinking for a few seconds before you dig in. It’s enough for him to take as a go-signal, and he walks beside you carefully, his voice wavering and soft. “I just wanted to surprise you – show you how much I love and admire you...all that.”

“That’s suspicious,” you mouth through a mouthful of dumpling, but smile anyways with your arms extended. “Come here, give me a kiss.”

Megumi is beyond elated as he buries himself in the warmth of your arms again, sighing when you kiss his cheeks and jaw. “Are we good?”

“Did you replace your deodorant?”

“Yes...”

“Good boy,” you kiss him on the lips this time. Megumi has the audacity to blush as if he didn’t just fuck a baby into you, making you laugh before you slap his ass, last night’s irration now replaced with a reminder that this was Megumi – your first love and everything more. There was no way you wouldn’t be ‘good’ with him; you’d go to heavens and back for him, but maybe once you’re done birthing his child. “Yeah, we’re good. Get the mint choco ice cream pint for me?” Megumi sprints to perform your commands, and you reward him by pulling him in for a deeper kiss the time, his lips so sweet and minty. You can’t help but sigh, falling for him over and over again. “You’re such a sweetheart, Megs. This is why I’m head over heels for you.”

“You didn’t want me sleeping beside you for a week straight though.”

Your nose scrunches at the memory – that slight change in your expression making Megumi step back – as you wave a spoon at him, glaring at him in warning. “Like I said, you stank.”

But...pregnancy wasn’t all that bad for the both of you. There were times you’re unable to keep your hands off him. Although unexpected and mostly occurring in the most inconvenient situations, Megumi can’t say he’s complaining, especially not when you push him towards the wall just as the elevator doors closed.

“Daddy,” you moan, guiding his hands into your already soaking wet panties. Megumi breathes sharply as he cups your drenching core, wondering how you’ve gotten this aroused without him doing anything sexual in particular.

The nickname spilling past your lips is unforeseen though, as is his growing kink for it when he hardens immediately.

“Please, please, please, I need you so much – make me feel good, will you?”

Megumi has to pin your needy, trailing hands all over his chest down to your sides, his pupils blown wide as the elevator ascends from one floor to the other. His eyes dart to the blinking red light from the cameras, his Adam’s apple bobbing when you don’t stop in the slighthest, only leaning forward to tug and nip at the skin of his neck. Megumi groans at your ministrations; you know very well that was his sensitive spot. “Y/N, we’re literally in the elevator, just wait until we get back home—”

When Megumi tries to push you away to stop your hands from palming his boner, you growl, eyes fierce and heated as you turn to him. “Do you want me to chop your dick off and prevent you from having a second child?”

“N-no.”

“Then shut up and fuck me.”

“Fuck, okay, don’t blame me if I make you sore, though.”

You roll your eyes at him, your hands moving expertly as you bunch your skirt up to your waist to show him that your bud was already swollen just for him. “Megumi, my boobs are already are its most sore point, I don’t give a fuck anymore.”

Megumi makes quick work of shoving his pants down just to his knees, gentle yet needy as he pushes your chest flat on the walls, round and perky ass puckered for him to take you already. He could cum just from the sight of you bending over for him like this, your arousal already dripping down your thighs as you wiggle your hips at him, breathless in the desire to be taken once more.

There were still fifteen floors to go before you reached your destination. Megumi’s brows pinch together in anxiety that anyone could press for the lift, but you’re also submissively bent over for him, moaning and gasping his name even when it’s only the tip of his cock sliding into you.

He sees the way your fingers hover over the buttons, clearly more prepared to shut the doors and deny others entry than he was, and he thinks fuck it to himself before he buries himself deep into you, head thrown back at the heavenly and salacious feeling of fucking you raw. You’re somehow warmer and tighter, wetter with puffier lips during your second trimester. Just as he blanches at the thought he could hurt you, he remembers the doctor’s encouragement of more sex. Being the good boyfriend he is, Megumi fucks hard into you, groaning and panting when your walls clamp down on him.

He only wants to help you.

Days of rubbing your feet and singing to your belly were gone – now replaced with laughter pouring into your house and switching from listening to Mother Mother into actually enjoying nursery rhymes playing from the stereo.

It feels just like yesterday when he rushes you to the emergency room, your hand nearly crushing his during your contractions before you gave birth to his child.

Megumi has never really been much of an emotional person, preferring to be calm and stoic unless you’re around; the rare times he actually lets his walls down. Surrounded by a group of doctors, though, Megumi stops caring about saving face when they hand him his daughter. He isn’t the least bit embarrassed when he sobs upon seeing the tiny bundle of joy in his arms, so small and vulnerable that promised there and then – he’d do everything he can to protect his child and give them the best future.

Fushiguro Megumi is a hands-down helicopter dad. The moment you’re able to take your daughter back home, he’s already had the whole house baby proofed. Along with studying for his exams, he’s also switching back and forth to parenting guide books.

You can tell he’s taking his job as a dad very seriously. Megumi doesn’t hesitate to shoot out of the bed in the middle of the night whenever he hears his daughter cry, racing you to her crib while he rocks her back and forth and you prepare her milk. You’re both utterly tired and sleep deprived, your head resting on his shoulder as your baby calms down in his arms. Faintly, you feel him kiss the top of your head, encouraging you to go back to sleep with the assurance he can handle it.

But of course, you’re the stubborn parent, and you drag your boyfriend and daughter back to bed, making sure there was enough space to make her comfortable before falling asleep.

Being a parent – especially with the love of your life – has never felt any more magical.

Of course, it was hard and definitely not a walk in the park, but it was worth it. Every time you came home from school, Megumi would already be there, his daughter babbling nonsensically in his arms while he prepared her meals. At the sounds of the door opening, both of them would run to you, showering you with kisses while you did the same.

Both your families have still refused to accept you back – not that you both minded – but it was getting shameful to keep relying on his relative to provide for your family. Eventually, you and Megumi decided that the other stays to take care of your baby while you work after class.

You’re staggering inside your home like a zombie after a long day, muscles aching from too much work and brain barely functioning due to the lack of sleep. With a long, drawn out sigh, you plop on the couch next to your boyfriend who jolts back awake, still careful not to let his drooling daughter wake up in his arms. Upon seeing it’s just you, Megumi leans over to kiss you on the nose, smelling sweetly of floral detergent powder and baby cologne.

“Welcome home,” he murmurs at your skin, your eyes already fluttering close at the comfort and warmth of home. “Scarlet is fast asleep. She couldn’t wait for you to kiss her goodnight anymore.”

“Don’t be dramatic. Mommy will always come home to the two most precious people in the world,” Now, it’s your turn to kiss Megumi to remind him he’s also doing a great job. You know he’s working just as hard you are, and you honestly don’t think you could do this without him. “Megumi,” you begin, tracing soft circles into his wrist to feel his lulling heartbeat.

“Hmm?”

“Have I ever told you I loved you?”

“I think I know that already,” he smiles romantically at you – even after years, you’re still very much smitten with that smile, and the sight of him and your daughter alone has you relaxing back in your seat.

“Yes, but you need to hear it again,” you tell him, cupping his face into your palms. Megumi sighs as he leans closer into your warmth, his hands patting your daughter’s back to soothe her in her slumber. “You’re such a natural at this – being a father. I’m really lucky I had a family with you. It’s all I ever wanted,” Burying yourself closer into his arms and collecting the both of them into an embrace, you smile into his shoulder, feeling like you’re on cloud nine. “I don’t think life is gonna get better than this, Megs. I’m so happy right now I feel like I could die.”

“Don’t say the d-word around her,” he jokes, the two of you sharing tired and dry laughter. Once the amusement subsides, Megumi’s other hand shifts to squeeze your thigh to get your attention. “Y/N...do you ever think about...making us official?”

“What do you mean?” you mumble sleepily, “How else official could we get? We live together and we have a baby. Soon, we’re going to be employed too and then we can provide better for her and stop relying on Aunt Suki so much,” Megumi nods above you, but his lack of response is worrying that you look up to him, frowning as you see that his face is pulled deep into thought. “We’re already a family, Megs. What’s on your mind?”

“I want to marry you,” he blurts out, “I want to make you mine and mine only – I see a future and a forever with you,” Megumi looks you straight in the eye the whole time. “Marry me, Y/N. Please.”

You’re rendered speechless.

You love him so much, you really do, and nothing about that will change. After spending a lifetime with you, Megumi knows just by looking at your face that there’s a but coming afterward and he clenches his jaw, sadness swirling in his eyes that you have to stop him before his thoughts run off again. “I want that too, Megumi, believe me,” you reassure, brushing his hair back with your fingers; a gesture that always pulled him back to you. “I just don’t want to rush things, you know? We can still barely stand on our own and we have Scarlet to worry about. I think we should focus more on her future than ours.”

Megumi nods, albeit disappointed, though this doesn’t stop him from kissing you straight on the lips before he mutters, “I understand but...think about it, at least?”

“You already know my answer would be yes.”

“Scarlet! I wonder where my little princess is hiding,” Megumi announces from outside your room, your toddler giggling beside you as you both hide behind the closet hand-in-hand. Four years later, you and Megumi are married, and life’s gotten a lot easier – in addition to it being a whole lot more domestic since Megumi takes his husband title just as seriously as being a father. Right now, he’s crawling outside, his voice lowered in an attempt to be scary. “If I find her, she’s going to face the wrath of the tickle monster!”

“Tickle monster!” Scarlet gasps beside you, turning to you with wide eyes. “Mummy, I don’t want tickles!”

“Then we better be quiet so Daddy doesn’t find us!”

With your voice intentionally louder than a whisper, it doesn’t take long before Megumi opens the closet doors, carrying you both effortlessly before dropping you all down onto the bed. “I found you!” You all tickle each other and laugh, your daughter falling into panicked squeals while you chortle at the side. Megumi then hoists Scarlet up before the both of you kiss both sides of her cheeks, sending the giggling child into an utter ticklish mess.

While the two are busy tickling one another, you feign a gasp, clutching at your husband’s bicep. “Megumi!” your eyes widen, pointing deftly at the kitchen with trembling lips for effect. “Can you please check the oven – I think I left something in there and it might be burning!”

“I don’t smell anything,” is all he says, but runs there anyway. Megumi stands in front of in confusion, Scarlet safely bundled in his arms while her father opens the oven, frowning as he takes the object out and inspects it. “Mittens? But Scarlet is already—” Just then, Megumi’s jaw drops, his grin stretched wide while Scarlet keeps poking at the mittens, trying to make them fit into her slightly larger hands. “No way. Another one?”

“Another candy?”

You laugh at Megumi’s beaming face that matches his daughter’s – the two looking too much alike – but for completely opposite reasons. “We’ll get you all the candies you want, sweetheart,” you swipe a candy from the counter and hand it to your daughter’s grabby hands, pecking Megumi’s cheeks who is still beyond flustered at the announcement. “But yeah we have another one – and it’s a boy!”

#fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #fusiguro megumi x reader imagines #megumi x reader imagines #fushiguro megumi x reader romance #megumi x reader romance #fushiguro megumi x reader fluff #megumi x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader romance #megumi x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #ngl i dont think this is my best work LMAO i suck at this im so sorry im just not a fan of kids spspss but i tried my bestttt wee woo #excuse me if the fluff is cringe IM CRYING #suki: 500 milestone event

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criticallyacclaimedstranger · 3 years

Text

Fic: What We Don't Know Can't Hurt Us

Fandom: Triple Frontier

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Librarian!Reader (cishet female) meet-cute

Warnings: No warnings really, some language and mention of masturbation and sex. Reader doesn't like kids. Yearning. Frankie is a TOTAL DILF SWEETHEART. Sad ending.

Summary: Reader is a librarian who has to temp at the kids' section desk from time to time which is a pain because she doesn't like kids. And who is a regular if not a very hot, scruffy-looking dad with the very polite and mild-mannered daughter? Sparks fly but some things maybe aren't meant to be.

Words: 5,155

a/n: Just to be clear, this one doesn't end well. I just wanted to write something sad, I guess.

Oh, shit, there he is again. The Hot Dad.

You straighten a little in your chair and once again curse the fact that you’re working in the children’s section at the library: the only desk that isn’t adjustable. You prefer to do your service desk duties standing up, not only for ergonomic reasons but because you hate how patrons look down on you – literally – when you’re seated by the desk. Also, you tend to slouch and it’s not an attractive look. And at the kids’ section, you’re all supposed to work on the same level as the little tykes. And you’re not particularly keen on those.

You are, however, keen on hot dads. God knows you only get them once in a blue moon and if they show up, it’s usually in tow of a whole clan of children and a wife. But this dad has been in once before when you’ve had desk duty and you saw him stop at the shelf for picture books about divorce and pick out a few. You also heard him tell his little girl that she shouldn’t bring the books she chose to her mom’s. Divorcee, so fantasizing was even more allowed – although he probably had a girlfriend. Guys like that always do.

“You don’t want to lose them, sweetie,” he had explained patiently to his daughter. “You can keep them in your room at my place but if you take them to your mom’s there’s a risk you lose them and that means I have to pay for them. You see, we’re only borrowing these books, that’s what you do in a library.”

You had smiled an inwards smile when listening to him. There was nothing you loved more than parents who actually seemed to understand that all the material in the library was free at one simple condition: return it in time, in the same condition as you borrowed it. A lot of people did not seem to grasp this and made a huge deal when they failed to meet these conditions and were faced with late fees or even had to compensate for lost books. But when parents who knew how to use a library include their offspring, explain how it all works for them, well, that’s how you foster a new generation of good library patrons.

This dad did just that. And he was very careful with the books, prompting his daughter to be the same. Every book she pulled out of the stacks, he helped her put back in the right place. That’s practically marriage material right there and it was enough to make you weak at the knees, to be honest. After almost ten years working in a public library, you were disillusioned about people in general and their intelligence in particular. Sure, you liked your job enough to not cry in the mornings when you had to leave bed, and you did enjoy the work itself (mostly), but… having to deal with people was exhausting. Having to deal with little people even more so, and the worst was having to deal with adult people who had little people with them. Parents.

Hence your absolute obsession with Hot Dad who was soft-spoken, really good with his kid, understood to appreciate the library and its services, nodded his hello to you when passing by the desk, didn’t make a mess, clearly read to his kid regularly and encouraged her to read for herself. You just didn’t get to see people like that so often, and it triggered your interest. You allowed yourself to daydream about him.

Francisco Morales. You remember his name from his last visit, when he and the kid came up to the desk with their haul. You always encouraged patrons to use the self-service check-out (the less you had to do deal with them, the better), but for this guy you were more than willing to go the extra service mile, even with the kid staring at your every move from across the desk as you registered all the loans. You silently gave her plus points for not trying to “help” like some kids did, and for the quiet but clear Thank you she gave you without prompting from her father.

You’re busying yourself with the returns, loading them onto a cart, when you hear a soft, deep voice go Excuse me behind your back. You twirl around and see Morales, pulling his baseball cap off his head to reveal curls that would make any hair model cry of envy.

“Sorry to bother you,” he offers. Take me now, you think to yourself but instead, you give him your brightest customer service smile, the one you rarely give patrons.

“No worries, how can I help?”

“We’re looking for picture books about farm animals. You don’t happen to have those separated? I noticed you have some subject areas separated.” He gestures back towards the picture book stacks where his daughter is quietly perusing.

“We don’t, but I think we have some Julia Donaldsons available, let me come and have a look.”

You don’t always offer. With most patrons, you’d tell them to look under D for Donaldson and then smile sweetly and ask them if they’re okay to do it themselves. You can’t do everything for everyone, that way they’ll never learn. But for Francisco Morales and his well-behaved little girl, you’re absolutely willing to make an exception.

There are some Donaldsons that the girl, whose name you learn is Sofia, eagerly accepts when you present her with them.

“I love fawm animals,” she sighs happily as she browses the first one. “Do you?”

“Who doesn’t love animals?” You make the effort to small talk although communicating with kids usually makes you awkward.

“What’s youw favowite? Mine is bunny. And howses. And lambs.”

“Goats! I love goats, they’re so cute and sweet and playful.” You almost add something about goats being the devil’s favorite animal as well but manage to stop yourself in time.

“Is there something else you want to ask the librarian?” Morales asks his daughter. “If not, I’m sure she has a lot of work to do, and we shouldn’t keep her any longer.”

“I’m here to help,” you shrug and give him a little smile: not a polite, impersonal one that you’d give a patron, but a more intimate one. A flirty smile. “You just need to ask.”

The smile he gives you back is warm and grateful, and you realize that he doesn’t have different facial expressions for different people. He doesn’t work in customer service because if he did, he’d know the difference. Not that you ever thought he worked in retail or anything like that, well, maybe a hardware store, but no. He just doesn’t seem like the type. The way he moves his body suggests something a lot more physical.

Oh, you’d like to get physical with him, alright…

All the sucky library-themed pick-up lines flash through your head. Can I check you out as an overnight loan? Can I insert my private collection into your empty stacks? My reference desk or yours? Am I being too loud, well, you’ll just have to shush me with your lips. You’re like an overdue library book because you have fine written all over you.

Worst part is, if Hot Dad Morales tried any of these on you, you’d probably forgive him and go for it. Maybe. You’re really not that simple, but a girl can dream, right?

The kid thanks you and you return to the relative safety of the desk and the mundane task of alphabetizing returns. You need to calm the fuck down and act professional. Daydreaming is fine but you’re barely toeing the line.

God, you need to get laid. As if that’s something that one can remedy just by walking into a store and ordering a medium dick with a side of hands and tongue.

📚📚📚

The next time you see Francisco and Sofia Morales, you’re taking your lunch break in the small park outside the library. It’s a sunny day and you didn’t fancy sitting in the breakroom with your salad, listening to colleagues talking about who cares what. So you took your lunch box, fork, and water bottle, and went to sit on the park bench the furthest away from the swing set and sandbox. The weather is nice and you enjoy yourself and your break from the library’s chat service. You never know what you’re gonna get when you work the chat: a stupid question about opening hours which anyone could google the answer to, or something more complicated like requests for books with partial or no titles, rarities, or subject areas that you don’t know much about. That’s when you get to use your whole competence and really dig deep, think outside the box, solve problems. You love it but it’s challenging at times, and takes a lot of energy. Your outdoor break is welcome.

“Hi!”

You hadn’t noticed the girl walking up to you and the greeting startles you.

“Oh, hi.”

“We’we wetuwning the animal books,” Sofia informs you seriously. You have to smile.

“Good job. You want more of those or something else this time?”

“Mowe. Will you help me find some?”

“I’m not working the desk at the children’s section today but my colleague there will absolutely help you. Just ask her.”

Now you see Morales walking towards you from the swing set, carrying the large, flowery canvas tote that says “book bag” he always brings to the library.

“Hello,” he nods with that warm smile that he definitely gives everyone. “Sofia, don’t disturb the lady on her break. I’m sure she wants some peace and quiet before she has to go back to work.”

Jesus fucking Christ. How does this man just know shit like this?

“I’m sowwy,” Sofia immediately offers. “I wanted to say hello.”

“Don’t worry, it’s okay,” you allow, although technically, he’s not wrong. “I’m almost done. It was nice to see you. I hope you have a good visit to the library.”

“Thank you!” She skips along and Morales chuckles as he takes off his baseball cap and scratches his head, swipes his long locks out of his forehead, then puts the hat back on.

“You’re her favorite, you know,” he tells you. When you raise your eyebrow, not comprehending, he hurries to elaborate. “Of the librarians. She says you’re the best.”

“Thank you, but whatever for?” You know you do a good enough job at your usual position and that your regulars appreciate you, but you are also very aware of not being at your finest in the kids’ section.

“You have to ask her,” Morales grins as he looks out for his kid, who has returned to the swing set and is pumping her legs on the swing, brows knitted in concentration. “But she’s very taken with you. I think it’s because you’re very calm and focused with her.”

Calm and focused??? You almost laugh out loud. That’s everything you’re not when you’re at the kids’ desk.

“Thanks,” you manage, because you have to say something.

“She’s also really interested in your tattoos and I definitely think she wants to get her nose pierced now,” Morales goes on. “I told her that we don’t comment on people’s appearance, but just a heads up, she might ask you about those.”

Ah, the unpredictability of children.

“I appreciate it.” You really do. You don’t mind talking about your tattoos or the septum ring you have but if a kid suddenly asks about it, you’d rather be prepared.

“Anyway, sorry to intrude on your lunch.”

“No worries,” you reassure him. “You can… sit down for a while if you want to? I have ten minutes left.”

Your heart beats faster at your proposal. It’s not exactly appropriate but you just want to enjoy his company for a moment. And discreetly sniff him because he smells so fucking good, woodsy and smokey but with a hint of… vanilla? You’re terrible at recognizing smells but it reminds you of some aroma reeds you had a couple of years ago that smelled like a wood cabin with vanilla sugar spilled on the floor. You loved it but like everything you love, it was discontinued.

Morales looks over at his daughter before nodding, the book bag slipping down from his shoulder as he places it next to the bench.

“If you’re sure?”

“Wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t.”

He likes your straightforward answer, you can tell from how his eyes crinkle a little and how relaxed his body language is when he sits down.

“I’m Frankie, by the way,” he says, like he just remembered that introductions are a normal part of human interaction. He extends his right hand to you and as you accept it and tell him your name, you can’t help but marvel at how huge his hand is. Big, warm, slightly damp but not in a weird way.

“Nice to meet you, Frankie.” Frankie. Francisco Morales is Frankie. It suits him better than Francisco, to be honest.

“And that’s Sofia.” He points to the girl who seems content swinging by herself. You realize you’re expected to say something nice about her to the proud dad.

“She seems sweet.”

“Yeah, she’s awesome. And she loves coming to the library, it’s all she talks about when I have her.” He clears his throat and adds: “Her mother and I got divorced quite recently. I only get her five days every other week.”

“Sorry to hear that.” Shit, it’s divorce and custody talk from the start. You have no idea how to respond to that.

“That’s life,” he shrugs, “but I figured that going to the library every time I get her could be a good routine to ground her. And then we have books that we can read together for her entire stay.”

It’s definitely a good routine as far as you can tell.

“When I was between nine and thirteen years old, my dad would take me to the local library every Monday evening,” you tell him, smiling at the memory. “My dad never opened a book in his life but he patiently read the auto and tech magazines while I collected half the kids’ section with me. When I went to tell him that I was done, he always pretended to object to the amounts, but then he’d help me carry it all to the car.”

As you tell him this, you’re looking at him, no, staring at the patchy, grey-splashed beard he’s sporting. It’s the most fascinating thing you’ve ever seen. What’s the story there, why doesn’t it grow evenly? Is this a thing? You don’t have enough experience in the field of facial hair. Is it genetic? Is it always like this?

He keeps looking at his daughter as he listens to you with a small smile on his face, clearly enjoying your little anecdote.

“That’s lovely,” he says, turning his attention back to you when you’re finished. “Dads and daughters, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

You pick up your phone to check the time. Shit. You have to return to the chat.

“I gotta go. Lunch break’s over.”

You collect your things and stand up, brushing off your skirt. Frankie stands up as well and picks up the book bag.

“I’ll see you in there?”

“I’m not a the desk today.”

“Oh.” He seems disappointed, his eyes flickering from you to the ground. “That’s too bad.”

“And the kids' section isn't my primary department.”

“The bad news just keep on coming, don't they,” he jokes as the two of you start to walk towards the entrance. Sofia jumps from the swing and comes running.

“She's not at the desk today, daddy,” she tells Frankie precociously.

“I know, mija. We'll have to ask someone else about the animal books, okay?”

Sofia doesn't seem too happy with this solution but nods. You take your leave before she has the opportunity to ask about your body modifications, and disappear through a door marked “Staff Only”.

📚📚📚

The following weeks you seem to see Frankie everywhere. You run into him at the supermarket and get drafted into advicing him on what cereal to buy for his kid. “Something healthy, but good so she'll actually eat it.” How the hell should I know? you want to scoff, but you're simping for him enough to help him choose something you'd never in a thousand years touch yourself. You see him in town one afternoon when you're running errands and he suggests you grab a coffee - holy hell, in your book that's a fucking date - but you decline as kindly as you can, citing a busy schedule when in fact you're mostly just scared out of your mind. The daydream is becoming a little too real and you're absolutely not ready for that, especially not because of the kid. If it wasn't for Sofia, you could have dared the leap, but dating a guy relatively fresh out of a marriage, and with a kid to boot? No, that's asking for trouble and you don't want trouble.

One afternoon at the kids' desk, you once again get to help Sofia find books, this time on sharks.

“She went from farm animals to sharks in one week,” Frankie confides in you when the girl is sitting quietly in a reading nook, carefully studying every page and occasionally widening her eyes at what you suspect is pictures of shark teeth. “It's sharks this and sharks that. She asks if there are sharks in every body of water she sees, from the pond in the park to the ditch outside my parents' house.”

“Have her watch Jaws and she will never want to think about sharks ever again,” you suggest, earning a laugh although the idea was probably a little bit on the morbid side.

“Maybe, but that would probably scar her for life. I actually want her to learn how to swim.”

“Then best not.”

You pick up a couple of books someone else left behind on a table and make a gesture that says I have to re-shelve these, come with and Frankie follows you to the right shelf.

“You know, she talks about you as her friend at the library.”

Now, some people would find that adorable but you don't. You're not friends with this kid, you're in a position where you could possibly influence her keenness to literature and literacy but you will always risk critique from her guardians. Being a children's librarian is like a hybrid between being in customer service, and being a teacher. You get to form young malleable minds but you are always subjected to criticism, even when you've done nothing wrong. Kids are patrons, like adults, and to have them see you as friends is only going to complicate things.

“That's nice,” you reply carefully, not really sure what else to say. It's so hard to talk to parents sometimes, one wrong words and you're basically Satan, you can't know because you don't have kids yourself, how dare you not worship the ground my offspring just vomited all over?

“You're definitely her favorite librarian.”

That you can take. You have a couple of adult patrons who come in regularly and prefer to get their reading recommendations from you. They always have time to discuss literature and they bring you a box of chocolates for Christmas.

“Well, she's easy to help. She always knows what she wants and she's polite. And quite easy to please,” you smile, meaning every word. You don't mention that the only time you like kids is when they're like Sofia is right now: reading quietly in a corner, handling the books with care.

“You're my favorite librarian as well,” Frankie adds, and now that sweet smile he's always wearing when you see him is shy. There's definitely a red tinge on his cheekbones as well and it makes you want to lean forward and kiss him on his goddamn mouth with that goddamn full lower lip that he sometimes sucks into his mouth or fucking licks...

“How many librarians do you know?” you ask and manage to sound easy-going, or at least you think so. The laugh Frankie produces is low and rolling and it makes your stomach coil in on itself. Fuck him and that deep voice he rode in on!

“Got me there. It's basically you and Mrs Wilkerson, the school librarian who scared the shit out of me when I was in elementary school. She made sure I didn't step foot in a library until, well, now.”

“Oh, I so wanted to be a librarian like that when I was a kid!” You grin at Frankie's horrified expression. “No, no, hear me out! I always had this idea that those librarians led these super rich, fulfilling lives as night-time vigilantes or that they were actually millionaires who spent their free time floating around in pools with fancy drinks in hand.”

“Were you... a normal child, besides these illusions?” Frankie teases you and before you can stop yourself, you're slapping his arm playfully. Like a girlfriend would. Or someone more intimate than a Favorite Librarian, at any rate.

“I'll have you know that the voices in my head are saying that we had a very normal and healthy childhood,” you reply with as much dignity as you can muster, while desperately wishing for the phone to ring or another patron to ask for your help. But no, the ones present seem to be managing on their own - except for one mom who seemed to have overheard your joke because she is now staring at you with hesitation in her eyes.

It's Sofia who comes to your rescue with her request of being taken to the bathroom. By the time she and Frankie are done there, your colleague has come to relieve you of your duties at the children's section.

📚📚📚

You knew of course that it was coming. You may not be that experienced in the terms of dating and relationships but you weren't stupid and you had some experience: Frankie was going to ask you out. It had to happen. Technically, it had already happened that afternoon in town when he asked you out for coffee. He maybe didn't see it as a date, but you certainly did.

It happened when you had just started your shift in the children's section and it was a fucking mess. A class of kindergarteners had just left and the teachers hadn't bothered to keep them in check, so there were not only books on every available surface, they were also put in the wrong way and in the wrong places. Your colleague who you were relieving stayed behind to help you, feeling too bad to leave it all to you.

That's when Daddy and Daughter Morales showed up. You weren't really happy about the existence of kids in the first place but made an effort for Sofia, who brought you a drawing she had made in preschool that day. It featured some figures in green, slightly reminiscent of animals and one human but you wouldn't be able to tell. Luckily, Frankie explained it to you.

“She's waited all day to give you this drawing of you with goats.”

“Wow,” you manage. “Thank you, Sofia, this was so kind of you.”

The girl is beaming with pride. “Will you put it on the wall?”

“Super probably!”

“I can see you're busy,” Frankie notes and ushers Sofia along. “We won't distract you. Come on, honey, let her do her job now and maybe you'll get to talk to her later.”

You nod your thanks and focus on cleaning up the entire department before you colleague leaves and Frankie and Sofia come to the desk to borrow this week' picks. Sofia seems uncharacteristically giddy.

“Do you want to come with us to the awbowetum?” she asks with a wide, expectant smile. Fuck shit ass hell.

“We're going on Saturday,” Frankie fills in, “and we were both hoping you'd want to join?”

Saturday. Thank goodness.

“Sorry, I work on Saturday,” you say, trying to sound rueful. It's true and you're relieved about not having to lie. “But thanks, it's sweet of you to ask.”

Sofia is clearly disappointed and so is Frankie, but he masks it better.

“Some other time, yeah?”

If it were only him, you'd tell him it wasn't a good idea. But you can't say that with the kid right in front of you. You may not like kids but that doesn't mean you want to scar them for life.

“Yeah, maybe.”

You loan them the books and as they leave, Sofia waves happily at you and Frankie shoots you one last smile that makes you press your thighs together in your seat.

Come Saturday, you're by your usual desk in the section for adult fiction and you almost fall off your chair when you see Frankie come up the stairs and straight up to the desk.

“Hi.” He's had a haircut and a shave and looks different. Still good, but very different. The dark locks of his hair are more tamed. The mustache is still there but you miss the patchy beard.

“Um, hi? Where's Sofia?”

“In the car, with a friend. We're going to the arboretum.”

“Right. I hope you have a good time, the arboretum's lovely.” You still don't understand what he's doing here and he seems to have some difficulty in telling you. Moving his weight from one foot to the other, he scratches his neck and looks down - why does he have to be so freaking cute? - before looking up at you.

“About that... I wanted to apologize. I wasn't sure it was a good idea to ask you to come with, but Sofia was so persistent. She likes you so much. I didn't mean to put you on the spot like that. I'm sorry.”

“That's alright,” you brush it off because there's not really anything else you can say. “Don't think about it, just go have a good day.”

“I also wanted to ask if you wanted to go grab a drink with me. Just me. Maybe next week when Sofia's at her mother's.”

Fuck, there it is. His hopeful face makes you hate yourself for the answer you have to give.

“I'm not sure that's such a good idea, Frankie,” you begin carefully. “I'm really flattered, but you're... recently divorced with a kid. That's a lot of baggage and things could get complicated. I don't want to get caught up in that.”

You've practiced this speech at home but it still breaks your fucking heart because Frankie is so good-looking, kind, funny, and sweet. You would've asked him out yourself already if it wasn't for the baggage. Fuck, you masturbate to the thought of him, for crying out loud! You imagine what it would be like to be with him, to make dinner together and watch movies and go to bed and wake up in each other's arms. You think about sex with him a lot. You make an effort with your appearance those days you know he'll show up at the library, you don't even mind the kids' section that much anymore because you get to talk to him.

You are fucking in love with him, or at least the idea of him because you don't know much about him, only that he used to be a pilot in the special forces but now he trains new pilots, he has best friends who are like uncles to Sofia (and who have been asking about this mystery librarian she always keeps talking about), he likes cooking and loves baking with his daughter, he hates working out but knows he should take better care of himself, hell, you even know what brand of milk he buys.

He's clearly disappointed but keeps a brave face, one that you can see right through because he wears his heart on his sleeve.

“I understand that,” he says quietly, mildly. “I'm sorry, I hope I didn't embarrass you.”

Jesus fucking Christ can this man not???

“No, don't worry. I'm sorry I couldn't give you the answer you wanted. It's just... not a good time.”

Shit. You shouldn't have said that. Now he might think it could be a better time later.

Frankie nods and smiles sadly. “Yeah, you're probably right.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.”

He clears his throat and nods. “I better be going. You have a good weekend now.”

“You too.”

He shoots you one final smile before he turns around and leaves. As you watch him go down the stairs to the exit level, you just want to call his name, do your run through the airport and hurry after him, throw yourself into his arms, kiss him, Jesus, imagine that somewhere there's someone who'll get to kiss him some day, tell him that you made a huge mistake and you want to go out with him, you want to have drinks with him and dinner and breakfast and lunch for the rest of your lives because nothing would make you happier than making him happy. You want to be the reason his eyes crinkle and his cheek displays that little dimple that makes you lose your train of thought every time you see it.

But it's not for you. People with kids need to prioritize their kids and you know that you can't be anyone's number two. You don't want to get caught up in custody disputes, you don't want to be "your father's new slut", you don't want to be anyone's stepmom. You don't want to have to spend five days a week in the same house as a five-year-old. Being in a relationship is difficult enough as it is and if you can make choices that avoid some of the problems, you're going to make them, no matter how much it hurts.

And it hurts. A lot. But so much in life hurts and you've made it through before.

He must already be out the door, probably in the car. Does he say something about this to his daughter and friend? Is it a female friend? No, it must be one of his army buddies, probably one of the brothers.

You pull up Frankie's profile in the library database and see his phone number. You could call him anytime. Or send a text. Keep talking to him, flirting.

Shit. It's a bad idea.

A patron approaches the desk and you force yourself to look mild and service-minded.

“Hi, do you have Hate To Want You by someone called... Ray, I think?”

“Please hold a moment, I'll check.” You stifle the sigh that threatens to escape you and hope that the day will be busy so you won't have time to think about Francisco Morales again.

#my fic #triple frontier #francisco catfish morales #francisco frankie morales #frankie morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader

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emmys-main · 4 years

Text

Intro (Part 1 of Love Me Good)

Summary: When you mention that you’ve never been satisfied by a man in bed, your older friend Chris makes you an offer you can’t refuse. Part II: Closer

Pairing: Chris Evans x female reader

Warnings: SMUT. Implied age gap, graphic oral sex (performed on a female). Do not interact if you are not 18+.

Title Inspiration: Intro by the XX

You didn’t know quite how the conversation of sexual satisfaction came up, but you weren’t mad that it was happening. Maybe it was because you were drunk off vodka and pink lemonade. Maybe it was because you were with a group of friends you trusted. Maybe it was because you were just having fun.

You were in a quiet suburb of Boston with a group of friends who were filming a movie there. You had been working for Chris’s mom’s theater for about three yeas after college, which was how you met Chris, and he’d introduced you to his friends, and then you’d taken a job on a TV show that Chris was filming back in Boston. It had been a wild couple of years, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world. Chris was, without a doubt, one of your best friends. Most of your friends in the area had scattered after college, allowing you to get closer to your employer’s son.

You’d been playing stupid games for most of the night after the Bruins game ended and you didn’t feel like going home quite yet; Chris was your ride, anyway, because he didn’t want you going back yourself so late. Somehow the game had turned to truth or dare, the real version of truth or dare - tell the truth or do whatever the other person says. Of course, in a room full of adults who were full of home-made chips and dip and alcohol, it turned dirty.

“I’m serious, answer it!” Your friend Janie said, nudging you with her elbow. “Come on, you have to! Or I’ll dare you to answer it!”

“Fine!” You sighed. You felt heat on your cheeks, starting to sweat a little more than you had been. “Never. I’ve never had an orgasm with a guy, okay?” Janie and another friend, Will, let their jaws drop before falling into a fit of laughter that you knew would happen. Even Chris, who was sitting there, laughed a little bit as he took another sip of his beer. He was probably the most sober of all of you - he was your ride, after all.

“What about Jay?” Will asked. “You dated him for two years in college.”

“I lied! He tried, and I almost got there, but I never did unless I was on my own,” you said, pulling your cardigan a little closer to you like it would guard your secret that was already out. “There’s your answer, okay? Now take the conversation away from me.” You took a sip from the pink-rimmed steel straw you were drinking out of, the lemonade and vodka mix stinging your lips like it had been all night.

“Chris, your turn! Same question or dare!” Janie turned her attention to Chris, who immediately looked like a deer in the headlights. The look on his face faded and suddenly he was chuckling, his cheeks slightly flushed.

“My record is five in one night. But I don’t remember the last time, so you’re not getting an answer to that.”

“Oh bullshit! There’s no way you don’t remember.” Chris shrugged, putting his hands in his sweatshirt. You secretly loved when Chris dressed like he was that night - in jeans and a sweatshirt and a Bruins hat, not concerned with anyone who might be taking pictures or spreading rumors about what he said. You knew he trusted you the first time he came over to watch a movie and told you some secrets from the set, not even worried about whether you would say something. He looked like any other guy, not Chris Evans. He looked like the guy who was easily your closest and most trusted friend.

“I don’t remember!” He insisted. “But at least I know it happened.” He looked over at you, winking, and you just rolled your eyes. Chris was a flirt. A hardcore flirt. And nothing ever came of it because you figured he just wasn’t into you. Tonight had been different, though, because as soon as the alcohol started flowing he was all touchy-feely and flirty and was just overall different. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t notice it.

You went a few more rounds of the game, ending up revealing that the craziest place you’d ever done it was in the communal showers sophomore year. Chris’s answer was an awards show green room, a much better answer, but he tried to play it off, saying it was too hot and he was worried about getting anything on his date’s dress, making excuses to play it down so it wouldn’t seem like anyone was missing out on anything.

You helped clean up before you walked across the street and climbed in Chris’s car. He turned the air conditioning vents toward you, making sure you were cool because you were sweating from all of the alcohol. He put on some 80′s music you didn’t quite recognize and started driving back toward your apartment. You grabbed a water bottle from the cupholder in the console, drinking a little bit of it before remembering it had been there since you got out of the car and that the water inside of it was hot.

“You can't be fucking serious about that,” Chris remarked when you were reflecting on the night. “You had to have had at least one. Maybe you didn’t notice it, but you had to!”

“I think I just put too much pressure on myself,” you admitted, “because I almost always get there but I never fully just...” You clenched your fists, looking for a good word, and let your voice trail off when you couldn’t find one in your vocabulary. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not satisfied with it. It’s fine. I’ve just kind of come to know I’m not going to and it’s whatever, you know? As long as I have fun otherwise.”

“Oh, that’s such bullshit. I’ll admit it’s not everything, but come on! It’s kind of the end goal there.” Chris stopped at a red light, looking over at you to make sure you were okay. You could see that his cheeks were returning to their normal color, even in the bright red light from the truck ahead of you’s brake. He was definitely sober. And this wasn’t a conversation you’d ever even think to have if you were sober, too.

“Yeah, but... I don’t know.”

“You’ve never been with a good guy, then,” Chris said after a second. He crossed his arms against his chest as he waited for the truck to go, then gently took his brake off and put his hands back on the wheel and the gear shift where he always rested his right fist.

“Then fucking tell me where they are because obviously I don’t know how to look for them, either.” Chris scoffed. “And, besides, I’m pretty enough to fuck and that’s all. No guy ever wants to stick around to learn how to make me feel good and it’s fucking annoying.”

“That’s just about the biggest lie I’ve ever heard. But maybe you need to look for a friends with benefits thing instead of anything else. At least at first. I hate hooking up with people because you don’t know them, you don’t know what they like or what they want to try or anything. You just know them for two hours and then they fuckin’ leave. But a friends with benefits, at least you know them and you can be idiots with each other.”

“Knowing me I’d probably catch feelings,” you scoffed, rubbing your hair a little when it hit a spot on your ear and started itching.

“Take me, for example,” he said. You sat up, giggling.

“What? You?”

“Exactly! You love me as a friend and nothing else. I wouldn’t even think twice about doin’ something because i know you and I care about you, but I also know that it wouldn’t be weird.”

“You think you and me wouldn’t be weird?”

“At first, maybe, but...” He looked over at you. “You’re hot and we can act like adults, is all I’m saying. That’s what I mean. You don’t want to get with someone you can’t act like an adult with. Literally and metaphorically.”

“Are you offering?” You asked after a second of silence, having been biting your tongue. The words came out of your mouth before you could stop them. Damn being drunk, even a little bit. it just made the part of you always afraid to step on someone’s toes go away. Chris shrugged in response and took a turn, and you noticed that you were almost back to your apartment.

“Maybe,” he said. “Depends on if you’re accepting. I just can’t stand the fact that no one’s ever made you cum, it’s fucking ridiculous. And if you’re into it...” His voice faded out when he realized you were looking at him.

“Sure,” you said in response, trying to be nonchalant about it. Inside, your heart was starting to race. Secretly, you’d always wondered what was inside of the gray sweatpants he would wear to set every morning, what was underneath the sweatshirt he would wear when it was cold outside, how his hair would feel running through your fingers... but you’d always been against it, thinking it was just empty flirting. He was so much older than you, he could have any woman he wanted, and he was so damn out of your league. But maybe, if this was one way you could have him, you wanted to.

“Really?” He asked, looking over at you. You were at the stop sign right before your apartment. It was now or never.

“Really,” you responded. His lips teased at a smile in the light of the street lamps and he pressed on the gas pedal, riding the short distance to your apartment before pulling into the driveway. “Do you want to come in?”

“Yeah.” He sniffled and turned off the car, then got out. You waited for him to cross over to you, looking in the darkness to make sure nothing was coming, before walking you up the stairs. You started sweating as you fiddled with your keys, trying to find the right one.

“You wanna just watch a movie or something? You know, we don’t have to get into anything,” he suggested. You found the key with blue duct tape on it, labeled with your apartment number, and nodded as you stuck it in the door.

“Sounds good.” You walked into the apartment and turned on the light, your head taking a minute to adjust to the light. “You know where the bedroom is, pick a movie. I’m going to use the bathroom.” He nodded and looked you up and down, smiling to himself, and the feeling of being checked out by him like a piece of meat sent shivers up and down your spine. The shivers stayed until you were in the bathroom, looking in the mirror, rolling up your cardigan in your hands. You weren’t wearing any makeup, but it didn’t really matter. You just made sure that you didn’t have any toilet paper or anything stuck down there, sighing, knowing you didn’t do that well when you'd shaved that morning. But Chris was your friend - if he wanted you, he wanted you. He wouldn’t care whether you had razor bumps or not.

You sighed, looking at yourself for a minute, and left the room. You walked into the bedroom to see Chris on the bed, shoes already off, hoodie off to reveal a white t-shirt, and his hat was on the nightstand. You sat down on the bed beside him, kicking your shoes off, and he turned on some movie that you knew you weren’t going to be able to watch. You looked at him in the dim lighting of the room before laying your head on his shoulder. He leaned back against the wall and the two of you sat like that for a few minutes, laughing at the TV when you realized he’d put on Forgetting Sarah Marshall, one of your favorites.

“This fucking movie,” you giggled. He laughed, too, but soon you were calm again. He must have been able to feel it because he pressed a kiss to your head. Did he want to start something now? You wondered. You looked up at him to see that he did, and before you could say anything or do anything his lips were on yours.

You’d always suspected he was a good kisser, but you didn’t know how right you were until that moment. He nearly tackled you right off the bat, swinging one of his legs over your torso until you were trapped underneath him. He gave you what felt like a million kisses before coming up for air.

“You like it rough?” He asked you in a low, husky voice. You were so close to him that you could see his pretty eyelashes up close for the first time. His pupils, those gorgeous eyes, were blown up with pure lust and a sick smile came over his face when you started nodding your head. He was the predator now, and you were the prey, and you didn’t even want to try to run away from it.

“I need to hear you, princess, do you like it rough?” He asked.

“Y-yes,” you said. It came out more like a whimper, your voice dry from the soul-sucking kiss he’d given you. As soon as you spoke a soft smile came over his face, replacing the almost grinch-like grin he’d had a moment ago.

“Good girl. We’re not gonna do the main event tonight, but I want to make you happy, is that okay?”

“Okay,” you whined. You could feel heat between your legs, soaking your underwear and your tight jeans. How could he make you like that with just a few words and a kiss? You were met with another searing kiss, Chris’s hand moving up to your throat. He rest his hand right above your collarbone, right where you were the most vulnerable. His fingers pressed into your skin, a hang-nail on his thumb scratching at it. You could barely think because of the way he was shoving your tongue down his throat, giving you no opportunity to breathe between the body on top of you and the warmth in your mouth. His tongue slid past your lips so easily, inviting you to go to war with his, and you took it. His kisses alone were like fire burning you from the inside out.

After what felt like minutes of just being there, kissing him with his hand on your throat, he pulled away. You wondered what he was going to do but he took his hands and put them down to your jeans, un-fastening the button. A limp, slightly greasy curl fell from behind his ear and with no hesitation, you tucked it back there. He gave you another sweet smile. His fingers fiddled with your button for a second before he started to pull the high-waisted jeans down. He chuckled when he saw that you were wearing underwear that matched your t-shirt. It was strange - you were always so afraid of your own body, looking down and seeing how close your stomach was to overlapping your toes, grabbing at your thighs wishing they would just disappear. But with Chris, you’d known him for so long and felt so comfortable with him that you didn’t even care he could see all of the stretch marks and the baby fat that had never left your stomach.

“If I’d known you were this god damn beautiful,” he muttered under his breath as he pulled your jeans over your ankles, discarding them to the floor. You sat up in a moment of bravery, pulling your t-shirt off to reveal your bra. Chris’s eyes had starts in them - you never once recalled feeling that way with anyone. You’d only ever been a bundle of nerves before. Now, that bundle was unraveling swiftly. Chris took the time to pull his own shirt off, allowing you to see every dip and curve in his skin. You couldn’t help but grin. God, he was amazing. Your hands went to his waist, breathless at how the man in front of you was actually real.

“You gonna let me take these off too?” He asked. “You wanna let me eat you out?”

“Yeah,” you responded. You felt a chill run up and down your spine and then to your hips as Chris’s thumbs hooked in your underwear and pulled them down, revealing you to the cold air of your room. Your legs came open without a command to, and when you did Chris’s eyes turned black again. You’d shaved that morning, not even thinking you’d get any that night, just because you liked to keep it shaved. So your pussy was as open as a flower, right in front of him, pink and perfect and glistening with wetness that you couldn’t control. It was freezing, making you want to close your legs, but you didn’t. You laid there, breathless, and watched as Chris laid down on the bed. He laid in between your legs on his stomach, just for a second, looking. You felt the heat on your cheeks, the aching in your bones for even just a little bit of his air against you.

The silence of the room was interrupted by Chris again, this time as he spat on your open pussy. It hit your bundle of nerves and you squirmed, earning hands on your hips once again. You jumped when you felt his cold fingers on them, rubbing your juices together. You’d never thought about how hot that was until then - fuck, you could’ve watched him do that all day.

“That feel good?” He asked in a dark voice.

“So good,” your lust-filled voice groaned back at him. You moved a piece of hair out of his eyes again, and as if to thank you, he moved to kiss your thighs. He said he was going to tease you, and tease he did - he kissed everywhere but the part of you he’d wet. You gasped at the feeling of his teeth on the thin, sensitive skin of your thighs, sucking little bruises into them. You were suddenly grateful that it was November and you weren’t wearing shorts anymore, otherwise the entire world would have been able to see what Chris had done to you.

“Fuck, you’ve got the most perfect pussy I’ve ever fuckin’ seen,” Chris said. It almost sounded like a dream when he said it. Faraway and unreal. And then he made it real by stopping the teasing and going straight to the source. You threw a hand over your mouth, not wanting to make too much noise but still too surprised to stop it from happening. You let out a small, high-pitched yelp as his tongue hit your clit first. He sucked it right into his mouth first, as if all of the teasing was over, and just as you let out another moan he let it go. You could hear a chuckle and at the same time, more of your wetness fell out of you. He lapped it up with his tongue, licking a stripe up and then back down, and then around. He was slow and careful with his movements, but it felt like the times you’d been eaten out before - like his tongue was everywhere and nowhere at once.

This was different, though. This was Chris. This was your best friend, eating you out in the darkness, trying to prove a point that had blown out of proportion. You had to stop another moan from leaving your lips when he sucked you into him, pressing his nose onto your clit by just an accident.

“No, I wanna hear those pretty sounds,” he cooed. “Tell me when you start getting close, but don’t put any pressure on yourself, alright?” You nodded, your head falling back onto the pillow. “Just sit back and relax, baby girl, I got you.”

You felt a finger probe at your entrance, and then two, and suddenly he was only rubbing his tongue against your clit and his fingers were inside of you. Your own fingers never felt this good, you thought, ever. He thrust them in and out of you and you could hear the lewd noises of everything going on over the movie. You were whimpering and whining and egging Chris on as he continued to eat you out. Your body was getting hotter and hotter and you were on the brink, but... what if you couldn’t? What if this was just like every other time when you got so close but never could? What if... Chris stopped what he was doing and looked up at you, pulling his fingers from you to grab at your hands.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. You want me to stop?”

“No,” you said loudly. “Please don’t stop.”

“Okay, then, you gotta relax for me, sweetheart. Just cum when you want to, it’s okay.” You calmed down before he went back to work, sucking and lapping at you. It felt so good, even the sweat on your back felt good, that your legs started to close. He didn’t protest. He just let it happen, and suddenly you could hear him gasp for air before returning right to your wet, now swollen pussy. That was finally what tipped you over the edge.

“Fuck!” You sobbed out, gasping for air as you felt at your highest. Chris took his mouth away from you and replaced it with his fingers, rubbing at your clit as your legs jerked and threatened to kick him. If you’d been looking at him you could see that he was smiling, that his beard was literally shining in the darkness with your wetness on him.

“Okay, I’m gonna go slow now,” he said softly, more to himself than you, and his fingers slowed on your clit. When you finally stopped moving, still gasping for air, he disappeared. You didn’t know where he went at first, but after a minute of stillness he returned with your steel water bottle and a washcloth from your closet, one you rarely used. It was wet with warm water.

“Thanks,” you managed to say, sitting up a little to drink. You twisted the lid off and your hands were shaking, but you drank the cold water. It breathed the life back to you, pulling you down from the highest of the highs you’d ever experienced. And then there was the heat of the cloth against you, and Chris’s soft sh, it’s okay, and then it was all over. He took the bottle and put it on your nightstand, then pulled your blankets out from underneath you. You were naked, still, but he didn’t seem to care. He tucked you in and started getting dressed, noticing that you were tired.

“I’m gonna let you get some rest, okay?” He said. “Sound good?”

“Okay.” He leaned down and kissed your temple, putting the TV remote over on the bed beside you.

“Good night, gorgeous. Call me tomorrow morning and we’ll get some coffee, alright?”

“Okay.” You shut your eyes and fell asleep without a single care in the world.

The next morning you woke up, noticing that you were naked above anything else. Normally you didn’t sleep naked, but you could feel your bare skin against your comforter and snuggled back into your blankets. You turned to your side, pulling the head of your phone charger out of the port and letting the cord fall to the ground. There was a single text.

Chris: Just woke up. Coffee at Sam’s?

Just woke up too. Sounds good. Just as you stopped typing, he started, and within a second he sent another text saying he’d be there to pick you up in half an hour. You pulled the covers off you only to realize that your legs were covered in little bruises and nibble marks from Chris. And then you realized the night before, but you didn’t freak out like you normally did. It felt good. You didn’t feel gross or dirty. You felt safe. Cared for. Satisfied. It was a change from the normal shame you felt after hooking up with someone. It was Chris, you realized. It was all him.

You pulled on some sweats, knowing he would be wearing the same thing, and emerged from your apartment to see that his car was already out there. You smiled to yourself as you got in, seeing that he’d obviously slept well.

“Well?” He asked. “How do you feel?”

“Like I just lost my god damn virginity,” you answered, only half joking. “Good. I feel really good.” He gave you a smile back, but it was a little hard to see underneath his famous Red Sox hat.

“Good. I’m glad.” He drove over to the coffee shop the two of you frequented and you paid for your coffee and sat down where you could people-watch through the streets.

“So last night was fine?” He asked.

“Chris, that was the most... I’ve never done that with a guy before and come out feeling not dirty. I’ve also never fallen asleep like that.” He chuckled.

“You deserved it. I wish I could've stayed, but the dog needed out. So would you want to do that again? Keep up this... thing?”

“Yeah,” you answered with absolutely no hesitation whatsoever. “If you’re okay with it, yeah. Maybe this time I can suck out your soul instead.” “I wouldn't say I sucked out your soul,” he rolled his eyes. “There’s much more where that came from.”

“Good. I want it.” You were only half joking there, too. “Friends with benefits?” He lifted up his coffee cup and you did yours, fake clinking them together like glasses.

“Friends with benefits,” he answered back. “What are you doing tomorrow after those courtroom scenes? We could go to that bar you’ve been wanting to check out.”

“Yeah, I’d like that.” The two of you talked about more mundane things before finally parting ways with a see you later, princess. He drove you back to your apartment and watched you get in, then left probably to go hang out with his family like he usually did on the weekends. You shut the door to your apartment, sighing dreamily as you decided to lay in bed for most of the day and think about how Chris felt the night before.

You wondered if you’d ever be able to get him out of your head, or if he’d live there rent free, like the image of him eating your pussy out spread across your bed.

A/N: This is my first time writing any kind of smut whatsoever, so I hope I did it justice! If anyone wants it, I have a full series for this prepared for this.

#chris evans x female reader #chris evans smut #chris evans imagine #chris evans x reader

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vicarfelix · 3 years

Text

The Truth About Fate

Vicar Max x Fem! Captain

Warnings: Language. Mentions of death, violence.

Word Count: 5,497

“How could anyone ever get over the fact that the person they loved most was taken from them, and they couldn’t do a damn thing about it?”

This had by far been the worst job the Captain had ever taken. The missions she had dealt with thus far had brought her to rabid canids, stuck-up and brainwashed rich people, and even murderous cannibals living outside the security of Stellar Bay. But this was a totally different kind of uncharted territory.

The Captain would be lying if she said that she wasn’t a little enthralled when a severed arm was delivered on to her ship. She didn’t know the man that she later learned to be Lucky Mantoya (since she wasn’t actually Alex Hawthorne), and the idea of taking the job from a dead freelancer was a bit thrilling. The Captain supposed that she owed Alex in a way, so taking this job was her paying her debt.

It wasn’t until she was too far into the journey on Gorgon that she wished that she had remained indebted to the late captain.

The Captain knew all about Adrena-Time. She saw the ads everywhere and how it was portrayed to be a performance enhancing drug created by Spacer’s Choice. She had never needed or wanted to take it, but it seemed that it was advertised everywhere she went.

It didn’t take long for The Captain and the crew to discover that Adrena-Time had created marauders, and Gorgon was the birthplace for them. Spacer’s Choice had poured endless money into The Gorgon Project, continuing to flood the market with cheap items and giving empty promises to the colony.

The deeper they dug into the mission, the more disturbing it became. The Captain was stuck between a rock and a hard place. It was too late to back out now, but she wasn’t sure how she felt about exposing herself and her crew to the rundown labs and abandoned “volunteer patients” left to die.

The labs were horrifying. The endless traces of failed experiments and suffering people were forever etched into her brain. The smell of all the dead bodies made her nauseous each time she remembered it. The cubes that were made from literal human parts. The worst part of it all was knowing that marauders were created.

It was very clear that the entire project was a cover up. She wanted Spacer’s Choice, The Board, and all the other snot nosed corporations to burn anyways, but now that feeling had tripled.

There were two positives to this mission. One was that (unlike other jobs she had taken) there didn’t seem to be any rush on completing this job. It wouldn’t change the outcome if she decided to move on to other things for a bit. The second upside was that the Captain had met some genuinely wonderful people on Gorgon.

The Sprat Shack had been their safe space during their time on Gorgon, while The Captain preferred that they all stay on the ship for sleeping, she spent the rest of her downtime and breaks at Lex’s bar. The Captain stayed fairly under the radar at first, keeping her head down and ordering her selected crew at the time to do the same. But she slowly began to realize that the people of the small bar meant well. According to Lex, most of them had been forgotten...and the bad ones had made it out of Gorgon instead.

The Captain had met some outstanding people, some of which she even developed friendships with. She wasn’t surprised that some of them needed jobs to be completed for a fee. The side jobs were actually somewhat refreshing, and it kept the Captain on track without leaving the void blasted rock.

But there was one side job that she wished had never been offered to her.

Leonora was a kind woman. She kept to herself and mostly drank the day away. The Captain couldn’t explain the feeling of hurt every time she looked at Leonora. The sense of loss and hopelessness. It all made sense when Leonora asked for a personal favor.

Leonora told the Captain about her lost husband and their Gorgon story. Leonora had no idea where Jerome was or what became of him. But she wanted the one thing that was left of him.

Truth be told, the Captain wasn’t sure that going out of her way to find a beat up flask was worth her time. But after talking with Leonora and hearing how “a broken heart” had brought her back to Gorgon, she couldn’t bring herself to say no. It was supposed to be an easy job. One that would lift everyone’s spirits.

But it ended up hurting the Captain even more.

It had been weighing on her a lot. There was something about the way Leonora’s eyes glassed with tears when she said Jerome’s name that made the Captain feel terribly upset. She could tell that Leonora loved Jerome endlessly, and it made the Captain question a lot about love. How could anyone want to fall in love if there was a possibility of ending up like Leonora?

The Captain worried about it, because it was totally possible that it could happen to her too.

Max meant everything to her. She loved him with everything that she was. She looked forward to waking up with him every morning and going to bed with him at the end of each night. She couldn’t even begin to imagine her life without him.

Max was her comfort in this fucked up colony. She had talked to Max about it, taking advantage of his confessional conversation training. He tried to help her get to the bottom of her feelings, which amounted to the fact that she needed to complete Leonora’s job first.

It turned out that tracking down Jerome’s flask wasn’t as difficult as she originally thought, once The Captain, Max, and Nyoka shot their way through a group of strung out marauders. The apartment was small, but she knew that Jerome had been there.

“I think that’s it, Cap.” Nyoka stated, motioning towards the metal flask sitting on the bed.

The Captain looked at the engraving on the flask, letting her know that it was the one she had been searching for.

“Yep. I think so too,” The Captain said, “I’m going to take a second to read his journal now that we’re not being shot at.”

Max and Nyoka offered light chuckles at the Captain’s joke, continuing to look around the room for anything they could pocket before they left. The Captain had found Jerome’s journal earlier, but hadn’t had a chance to read it since they had been under attack.

Now she wished she had never allowed herself to read what Jerome had written.

She smiled faintly when she read the sweet things that he had written about Leonora. But that feeling didn’t last long for the Captain. The fuzzy warmth was washed away with a cold gut drop when she read that he had taken Adrena-Time. Her heart ached as she read on to see his slow descent into marauder madness. It made her feel a sense of dread at knowing that she likely had just killed him within the group of marauders just a few moments before.

“Oh, God...” The Captain groaned, handing the journal to Max and Nyoka so they could skim over it too.

A wave of nausea filtered through the Captain’s senses, but not the kind usually brought on by rotting canids on Monarch. As much as the Captain wished that she had more control over her feelings, sometimes they still smacked her in the face.

Max and Nyoka went through the same emotions the Captain did as they read. They knew what the Captain was feeling, and they didn’t want her to blame herself for something that she couldn’t help.

“It’s not your fault, Cap. We had to kill them.” Nyoka said.

Max seconded Nyoka’s statement, approaching the Captain and resting a hand on her shoulder to soothe his distressed girlfriend.

“She’s right. There was nothing else that could be done.” Max’s voice rumbled low in the Captain’s ear.

The pad of his thumb stroked her shoulder through the hard material of her Rizzo’s SugarOps armor. It was something he always did when he knew she was uptight, but it didn’t always offer her consolation.

“What am I even going to say to Leonora? How am I supposed to tell her what happened to Jerome?” The Captain asked rhetorically, but she had hoped they’d give her an answer.

The Captain already had a feeling as to what they thought. Nyoka and Max were very honest people, believing that the truth was always best. The Captain mostly agreed, but she knew how damn bad the truth could hurt sometimes.

“Cap, I hate influencing decisions. Just...go with your gut.” Nyoka offered, which wasn’t exactly helpful.

“Whatever you find to be best, Captain.” Max echoed.

The Captain sighed, dejected that their advice didn’t help at all. The Captain tucked the flask into the pocket of Max’s jacket, assuring that it’d be safe with him until they made it back to The Sprat Shack. The trek back through the ruins to the saloon felt far too quick. Even if she had all the time in the world, the Captain was confident she’d never fully settle on how to handle this.

These were the moments that she hated about being a captain. The moments where all authority and responsibility fell to her, and when her crew couldn’t back her up. As horrible of a thought as it was, the Captain was tempted to not even return to Leonora. Leonora would never even know that the Captain had indeed carried out her task. But the Captain knew that was probably the worst thing she could do.

She fished the flask from Max’s pocket once they were out of harm’s way, her dirtied fingers trailed over the engraving once more. She hated everything about this entire Gorgon mission. Every side job that she took seemed to be making the main objective worse. Gorgon was by far the worst of the colony.

And it only further cemented the Captain’s hate for The Board.

They entered the building, the dread in the Captain’s abdomen growing more and more as the elevator descended them down to the lower levels. She looked at Nyoka and Max again, her usually confident and determined eyes suddenly filled with uncertainty.

“I don’t know what I’m going to tell her.” She admitted, her usual boldness being chipped away more and more the longer she thought about this.

Nyoka and Max both wished they could’ve been more helpful. Unfortunately, this was just one of those moments where their assistance wasn’t making the job easier.

Max adored the Captain. Their relationship had given his life a whole new purpose and meaning. He loved her endlessly, and seeing her this upset hurt him personally. If he could bear her burdens, then he would without a second thought.

But she was the Captain, not him.

“Maybe she won’t even ask, Cap.” Nyoka suggested the likely best case scenario.

“If nothing else, at least returning the flask will partly offer her closure.” Max tagged on.

That helped marginally, but it barely made a dent in the Captain’s feeling of impending sadness. The Captain led the way into the room where Leonora was sitting, rummaging through a bin of her belongings that amounted to practically nothing.

For a split second, life returned to Leonora’s eyes when she saw the Captain. However, the life left them again just as fast as it had come. It was as if Leonora had hoped that Jerome would’ve been with them. The Captain couldn’t even imagine Leonora’s pain.

“Hi, Leonora.” The Captain greeted in as neutral of a tone as possible.

Max and Nyoka stood back a ways, wanting to give Leonora plenty of space for whenever the Captain broke the news to her.

“Find anything out there?” Leonora asked in her serene voice.

The Captain nodded, revealing the metal object to her.

“I found Jerome’s flask.” The Captain stated simply, passing it to her with slightly trembling fingers.

A genuine, yet sad smile appeared on Leonora’s face as she looked over it. The Captain could see a whole parade of memories flood over Leonora. The Captain refused to cry, but it was taking a lot from her to stop the tears.

“That’s it, all right! Law...still smells like whiskey, his cigarettes, and that awful cologne he bathed in every morning.” Leonora said, but more as a testament to herself than the Captain.

The Captain refused Leonora’s payment when she offered the bits. The Captain was glad Ellie wasn’t there, because she would’ve surely bitched at the Captain for turning down payment. The Captain had this overwhelming sense to leave now while Leonora wasn’t asking questions. The Captain figured she could bid her farewell and good luck and dash out, but Leonora spoke again before the Captain could try.

“You didn’t happen to find anything else out there...did you?” Leonora questioned, very clearly wanting the answer she’d been waiting all these years for.

The Captain felt like she could’ve broken out into a sweat. This was exactly what she was afraid of. Her observant ears heard the uncomfortable shifting of Nyoka’s feet behind her, and she could practically see Max’s lowered head as a show of respect for Jerome.

The Captain’s hesitation was probably not a good sign to Leonora. The Captain knew that she couldn’t completely avoid answering Leonora. The Captain had two very clear paths in front of her. She could tell Leonora the truth and risk breaking Leonora’s heart further, or she could lie and offer Leonora some solid comfort...even if it wasn’t real.

The Captain didn’t want to do this. She wished that she had better options at this moment. But she had to choose what was dealt to her and what was best for Leonora in her eyes. So, the Captain made the best decision that she could.

So she lied.

“I found Jerome. It looks like he died peacefully.” The Captain told Leonora.

The energy from Max and Nyoka changed. They both were a bit stunned that the Captain fibbed. Just as before, a flash of a look of relief crossed Leonora’s features. She didn’t want Jerome dead, but thinking he died comfortably brought her great consolation.

“Good...good. I should’ve been there for him, but I suppose he wanted to be alone in the end,” Leonora said solemnly, “Thank you for the flask. Jerome and I were supposed to live and die together, but sometimes fate has other plans.”

The Captain didn’t hear Leonora’s goodbye due to the ringing of her last sentence.

Fate has other plans.

The Captain felt a million times worse now. She thought about all the plans she had with Max. All the things about their future that they had talked about. They were supposed to live and die together...but what if that didn’t turn out to be the case?

The Captain only gave Leonora a nod for a farewell, leaving her to wallow in a broken lie as an attempt at moving on. It was the end of the night, and the Captain just wanted to get the hell back on The Unreliable. They left The Sprat Shack, the Captain’s solitary question giving Nyoka an invitation to speak once they were en route to exit the establishment.

“Did I do the right thing?” The Captain asked for the first time ever, tears brimming her eyes.

Max didn’t say anything, knowing she’d talk to him more later. Nyoka sighed, clearly torn at what had just happened with Leonora.

“I don’t know, Cap. I hope she’ll find some peace in this, but...sometimes it’s better to know the truth and deal with it.” Nyoka said honestly.

“I just couldn’t tell her. She’s been holding on to a sliver of hope for years and if she knew that he had turned into a marauder...” The Captain stopped briefly, “It might’ve killed her.”

The Captain wasn’t known for theatrics or delivering dramatic lines after an intense moment (no, they left that up to Felix). But her words couldn’t have been more true.

Max hates seeing the Captain so unsure of herself. She usually never thought twice about a decision she had made. She had lied her way out of situations before, but never in that context.

“I’m sure you did the rightest thing you could, Cap. It’ll be fine, you’ll see.” Nyoka added on after realizing that her opinion had made it worse.

“Yeah. Maybe.” The Captain said as they walked up the ramp of the landing pad.

The ship was fairly quiet as they entered, only a few distant sounds could be heard over the hum of the engine. Ellie and Parvati had gone to bed, Felix was raiding the fridge in the kitchen, and SAM was probably cleaning ADA’s units for the millionth time that day.

The Captain wanted to get the hell off of Gorgon, even if it was just for a day or two. But she was afraid that she wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it until the job was finished. She just wanted to get this over with so she could get on with her life.

Her mind was reeling with thoughts and replaying the day’s events over and over again. She couldn’t tell what was bugging her more. The fact that she was responsible for the death of Jerome or that she had lied to Leonora. It was probably a horrible thought, but it offered the Captain some peace knowing that Jerome never would’ve been with Leonora again, due to his marauder transformation and all.

But she subconsciously knew that there was much more to her discomfort than what was on the surface.

Nyoka, Max, and the Captain silently stashed their things away into the lockers at the front of the ship, the sounds of their weapons and whatever they had stashed in their pockets clinking and making other noises. Usually, the Captain took inventory at the end of the day, but she was too tired and honestly couldn’t have cared less.

The Captain’s gear had been stashed away until their next adventure, her head craning from one side to the other as she attempted to adhere to her achy muscles and tired bones. Nyoka didn’t say much else, knowing the Captain needed to be alone. Nyoka snatched a few bottles of Spectrum Vodka from the kitchen before holding herself in her room, not nearly as bothered as the Captain was.

Max had hardly taken his eyes off of the Captain the entire time. He studied her and watched her to see what she was feeling without her actually saying it. The Captain and Max had an interesting dynamic like that. He could read her and she could read him.

He just wished she wouldn’t beat herself up so much about this.

“[Y/N], darling,” He hushed out, his voice like smooth silk in her ear, “Please, don’t dwell on this too much.”

The Captain only shook her head, her eyes stinging with tears again and her throat heavy with the struggle to hold down that first sob.

“I’m going to shower. I just want to go to bed.” She stated, managing to conceal the quaver in her voice from him.

To anyone else, the Captain’s behavior would’ve been coming off as cold and hateful. But Max knew her too well for that. He knew she was hurt and upset with herself. She turned around the walk away from him, knowing that he understood where she was mentally right now.

He instinctively let his hand find her waist, keeping her from straying away from him. He looked into her bleary eyes, seeing the toll that this was taking on her.

“Okay, my love. Whatever you want.” He smiled softly, trying his best to reassure her.

Now, he went to walk away, taking the Captain’s statement to mean that she wanted to be alone. But her frantic grab for him told him he was wrong. He could see the desperation in her eyes, the plain and simple fact that she did not want him to be away from her right now. Even more so, he heard it in her voice. The gentle request that came out as a crack of a whisper.

Almost as if he’d disappear if she spoke too boldly.

“Please don’t go.” She pleaded to her beloved priest.

A singular tear slid down her left cheek, creating a wet line through the layer of dirt caked on the Captain’s face. She wouldn’t let herself completely fall apart. Not yet anyway. She refused to let the emotion show on her features past the tears.

She was supposed to be the strong, blazing captain of The Unreliable. She was supposed to be the one person who never let things get in the way of things that needed to be done. Independent captains were supposed to keep their feelings stored away on a shelf, safe from all the horrible things that they had to see.

But what the Captain was beginning to realize was that all of those other captains had become that way BECAUSE they didn’t allow themselves to feel.

They had ruined themselves by trying so hard not to ruin themselves.

“Oh, Captain...oh, my darling,” Max said quietly and lowly, not to draw any attention in the event that someone was lingering around, “I’m here for you. I always have been and always will be.”

His hand slipped into hers, intertwining his fingers with hers. He brought the back of her hand to his lips and left a gentle kiss, bringing her to the shower of the ship. The water was hot and heavenly on the Captain’s skin, already washing away the dirt and grime she had collected during the day.

Silent tears were still streaming from her eyes as they stood together under the flow of water. He wiped away the tears as best as he could, his heart breaking with each new set of soundless tears that told the loudest story. She didn’t have to say that she needed comfort; he could see it and feel it.

“You’re so wonderful. You’re so incredible in so many ways,” Max said as he began to wash her hair, his hands massaging at her scalp, “Law only knows how you ended up in my life.”

Even through her tears, she managed a smile, along with a saddened and amused laugh.

“Did an outlaw, happenstance captain really change your life so much?” She asked him in a purely joking manner.

“You’ll never understand the half of it.” Max replied as seriously as ever.

Max made sure she was clean first, before getting himself clean as well. He continued to tell her sweet nothings. He continued to love her in the ways that he knew she responded well to. He couldn’t undo everything that had happened, and he couldn’t do much about the Captain’s worry. But he could be there for her through all her tribulations.

She took her usual place on the inside of the bunk once they were dressed for bed and back in her quarters. Max had slipped one of his shirts over her body, kissing her gently and carefully. His lips were met with her quivering ones, her final attempt at not completely breaking down in front of him.

She was pressed between the adjacent wall and Max’s body. She snuggled up next to him like she always did, but it wasn’t in the giddy way that she normally did when she was eager for cuddles. No, this was more of a slow pull of herself flush to him. Her head against his left pectoral and her hands reaching for one of his to play with. She was needy for comfort, rather than her usual nightly snuggles.

The trace scents of Max’s cologne filled her nose as she formed herself into his side. It was a smell that always grounded her. It brought her a sense of care. A sense of direction when she didn’t know where to go. A feeling of all the answers in a world of so many unanswered questions.

It made her feel a sense of home.

“Max?” She called out, not hiding the tremble in her voice this time.

He could feel the glass about to break. The glass underneath her that was protecting her bottled up feelings was beginning to crack and was on the verge of shattering and causing her to fall.

But he’d be there to catch her safely.

“Let it go, Captain,” He persuaded softly, holding her a little tighter in preparation for her inevitable meltdown, “I’m here.”

And then she did indeed let go.

The first real sob was a gut wrenching one. She felt it all the way from the bottom of her lungs to the tips of her toes. It was an overwhelming reaction, one so intense that even Max was a bit taken aback. She buried her face into the soft material of his shirt, muffling her pathetic cries in an attempt not to disturb anyone on the ship.

“I lied to her, Max.” The Captain sputtered, each word being thick with distress.

“You did what you simply had to do. Your decision wasn’t out of disrespect.” Max answered, his hand caressing her damp hair.

“It was her husband. I killed her husband, and I didn’t even have the guts to tell her that.” The Captain drawled, her tears seeping through Max’s shirt.

“You didn’t kill him. He was dead long before you ever pulled the trigger,” Max reminded her, referring to how Adrena-Time pretty much had sucked any life out of him beforehand, “Leonora and Jerome never would’ve ended up happily together again. Even if we had managed to get away with not killing him.”

The Captain seemed to be understanding that. It registered well in her head, but there was one part she was still so hung up on.

“It wasn’t that I didn’t want to tell her that I killed him. I just couldn’t tell her that he had turned into a marauder. How could anyone come to terms with their lover becoming a fucking maniac?” She wept, “How could anyone ever get over the fact that the person they loved most was taken from them, and they couldn’t do a damn thing about it?”

Max was intrigued by the Captain’s specific choice of wording...but he sensed that there was a deeper issue that was causing her to fall apart like this. Max was doing absolutely everything he could to make her feel better. Unfortunately, she had just seen and dealt with too much since taking this Gorgon job. She was exhausted in every regard: emotionally, physically, mentally. He just wished that there was more that he could do beyond talking things out.

“It’s so overused to say, but life is unpredictably cruel sometimes. There was a reason for the way that things turned out.” Max said, kissing the crown of her head.

The Captain dwindled down into a series of sniffles and hiccuping cries, her head too rattled to say anything for the time being. Max caressed her skin, kissed her, touched her, and loved her. Anything he could do to remind her that he was there for her.

“Max?” She called again after a few more silent moments.

“Yes, my love?” He answered, letting his hand relax so she could fidget with it easier.

“I love you.” She declared, wiping at her tears fruitlessly.

Max and the Captain had exchanged “I love yous” before this moment. Surprisingly, Max had been the first to say it. He and the Captain had found themselves sitting alone together on Groundbreaker, sharing a bottle of Iceberg Whiskey and drowning out the day’s terrors. He had leaned over to press a kiss to her temple, when he whispered it lowly in her ear. She had returned the endearment, and not a day had passed where the two of them hadn’t said it at least once a day.

Even when they had been fighting or arguing over something meaningless, they never let the other go to bed angry. He could be past the point of enraged at her, and he would still tell her how he felt before they fell asleep. They were connected in the most beautiful way.

It felt so different to hear her say it in this kind of situation.

“I love you, Captain. I love you so much.” He drawled, suddenly interlacing his fingers with hers once again.

“When Leonora was telling her story...I couldn’t help but think about us.” The Captain admitted, her tears beginning to slow.

Max’s brows knitted together in both confusion and curiosity.

“What do you mean?” He questioned, leaving yet another kiss on her head.

“They traveled the colony together...ended up at the wrong place at the wrong time,” The Captain explained, “Max, that could easily happen to us.”

The Captain sat up from where she was laying next to him, her cheeks wet with tears and her eyes puffy. She wanted him to understand her worries and why this was bugging her so much.

She wanted him to see that she was afraid for them.

“Oh, darling, I assure you that’s nothing to concern yourself with. We’ve seen what Adrena-Time can do and it’s the reason for marauders, I’d never even give taking it a second thought.” Max assured her.

“I don’t mean with Adrena-Time. I just mean in general. This colony is so messed up. Literally anything could happen and if I lost you...” She trailed off, not even daring to finish the thought.

The vicar’s eyes softened even more than they already had. Although he knew better than to say this to her right now, he knew that they could realistically lose one another at any given moment. He wasn’t kidding when he said that life was cruel. It was always an open possibility...and not just for them.

“It could happen. I won’t deny that to you, but I find that it’s more important to savor and cherish the moments that we are blessed with...preferably while they’re still here,” Max said, knowing that probably wasn’t offering her any kind of resolve.

“Easier said than done.” The Captain grumbled.

“I know it’s not a great answer,” He confessed, a grin appearing on his face, “But for what it’s worth, I enjoy every single moment with you. I’ll spend every moment loving you.”

The Captain gave a light laugh, amused by his words.

“Even when I’m a crying mess and hysterical?” She tried to joke.

Max cupped her face, swiping more tears from her face as he answered with full seriousness.

“Especially then.”

The Captain took a few seconds to try and collect herself. Talking had helped some, but this was something she’d have to allow herself to work through. In time, The Captain would come to terms with what she had told Leonora. While she’d never know how Leonora came to terms with it, the Captain would rest easy knowing that she’d done what she thought was right.

Max gave her time to bask in the quiet, continuing to rub her leg that was peeking out from under the sheet. He kept his sights on her, watching her as she dazed out the window in front of her desk. He was proud of her for letting herself release her feelings out into the open. He knew that she kept things to herself more than he wanted her to, but as long as she knew that he was a resource for her, then he was okay.

“Come here.” He said when her gaze returned to him.

She crawled back into his open arms, falling into his frame for the millionth and certainly not the last time. He showered her with love for the rest of the night, wiping any tears that slipped down her face. He felt relief when she finally fell asleep, because he knew how badly she needed rest.

He stayed up long after she fell into a snooze, keeping her close in case she woke up again in a meltdown. He was sure that she was releasing lots of emotions that had been building up for quite some time, so he expected her to not fully be herself for a few days.

He’d be there for her until she felt better. Until she was back to being the woman that he had grown to love...but he loved her just as much even when she wasn’t feeling completely normal. While he hoped that he and his captain had lots of more adventures to go on and endeavors to discover, he was content with his happily ever after that he knew to be her. Because she had shown him love. She had shown him HOW to love.

She was his forever.

#Vicar Max #vicar max x reader #the outer worlds vicar max #vicar max fanfiction #vicar max oneshot #the outer worlds #the outer worlds fanfiction #maximillian desoto #the outer worlds max #vicar max x female captain #vicar max x female reader #vicar max x you #vicarfelix

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oureuphoria · 5 years

Text

Worst of You - JJK 01

You meet him under horrible circumstances but that doesn’t stop you from developing a very abnormal and completely unsolicited crush on your local hot police officer™. Too bad you have a bitch of a best friend, anxiety and an inability to learn from your mistakes which cripples your chances to be with the man of your literal dreams. Oh, and he has a lifetime’s worth of baggage at 23. Or “I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s wrong.” “Cool, I’ll let everyone know that you’re moving in then.”

Genre: fluff, angst, comedy

Pairing: officer!jungkook X collegestudent!reader

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: Mentions of violence (stab wound), mentions of anxiety, swearing

Note: I was watching B99 and I was like ‘Woah, Jungkook would be a hot cop,’ and now we’re here.

| 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 |

If someone had asked you to write a novel about the adventures of your life, it would be extremely thin. Not from your lack of experiences (although it is a pressing factor) but more so from your inability to think about yourself for longer than 3 minutes without feeling sick. You were not a particularly hateful person, especially not towards yourself, but you were an active and anxious thinker and your mind was often boggled with thoughts about what you could’ve or have done wrong and it was exasperating.

For example, occasionally, your professors would allow students to spectate professional research experiments and that month, you were selected (out of pity because Alex was selected and the Professor knew she was your only friend). You knew this was supposed to be an “interesting learning experience” but it was a complete and utter bore. At first you’d convinced yourself it was only boring because you were hungry, then you began to realise it was boring because your singular braincell could not comprehend such complex material on an empty stomach.

So, you left the room to go to McDonald’s, for educational purposes of course. That was where you went wrong because instead of peacefully enjoying your McChicken you were dealing with your phone which was blowing up with messages from Alex about how you were missing ever so much from the research lab. However, it seemed to you that perfectly cut fries were more interesting than watching microscopic cells bounce around in a microscope for an hour.

It turned out that watching microscopic cells bounce around in a microscope for an hour was worth a lot of credits and you wallowed in self-pity for the mere 24-hours that followed that realisation.

You had fucked up once again, only three days after witnessing all 3 minutes of the splendid research experiment. It was a Saturday and you were standing outside your dorm building watching a student yell at a stray cat. It was around 2 in the morning and you were sneaking back from your late shift at the convenience store. Usually, you would have been terrified and confused but you were so tired that you violently pinched your arm and blinked rapidly, hoping it was just an illusion. When the peculiar scene didn’t disappear, you realised this was real but it was too late since the man was now sprinting after you across your quiet and empty campus.

Four years ago, if someone had told your 16-year-old self to participate in your P.E classes because you would later be chased by a crazy man at 2am then you surely would’ve listened. But unfortunately, no one had done such a thing and you were beginning to realise just how regrettable that was. Your running performance was mediocre at best, definitely not fast enough to out run this man across an extremely large campus and you were beginning to lose your breath.

Your only option was to quit while you were ahead and either find somewhere to hide or use your very non-existent combat skills to karate kick the man into the other dimension. Naturally, you hid behind the giant administrator building. As you were finally behind the safe confines of the old brick wall you moved to reach for your phone when you heard an alarming scream. As much as your brain wanted to relish in the relief that the scream wasn’t coming from you, you couldn’t shake the instant guilt. You called the police and tried to sound as reliable as possible but your voice was dripping with fear and you stuttered over your words like a toddler.

Once you were able to clearly see the student, lying on the lawn in pain with what appeared to be a stab wound the guilt completely consumed you but part of you couldn’t even believe this was real. Students woke up from the deafening sounds of sirens and it wasn’t long before this would become a commotion so the officers made quick work of the scene, the ambulance moving him to their van and the police officers continuing their reports. You were asked to go to the station where you would be further questioned by another officer and you didn’t quite understand the need for that escalation but you compiled nonetheless. You didn’t need the police and your conscience to think you were guilty.

You were seated in the backseat of a police car, behind two male officers. Their conversation fell numbly to your ears, your mind already submerged deeply in thought. You didn’t snap out of your trance until the officers repeatedly called for you. “Did you know the boy? The one who was, uh, attacked?” The officer was trying to find the right terms and you commend him for that much, but the last part felt more like an unsure question than a statement and that didn’t sit well with you. “No.” Your answer deadpanned the chance of a conversation, the silence after being the proof. The drive continued for about 3 minutes before you stood at the information desk where you were asked to join the secretary on a walk to the interrogation room. “The officer will be with you shortly. Would you like anything to drink?” She spoke curtly, the annoyed look on her face told you she’d already done this too many times. “No thanks, I’m fine.”

You were confused and guilty and scared. None of this made any sense, you - who never, ever, experienced anything outside your boring routine - was now being questioned for an attack? You were convinced you were borderline insane and that this was just a horrible dream. But, with every tic of the annoying clock on the plain wall behind you, you grew less convinced that this was anything but reality.

“Hello.” The officer walked in, and suddenly you felt like you were in some sick, twisted rom-com because that man might have been the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. You didn’t mean to become distracted but he looked like he’d just walked out of a magic mike production and you were frankly astonished because this had to be a dream. His eyes were dark but they shined in the light beautifully, however the furrow in his eyebrows scared you enough to stop staring at his eyes. His build was clearly very developed, he looked like you could bench press you 40 times over and not even break a sweat. Or maybe he was just really fucking hot.

“My name is Officer Jeon and I’m here to ask you a couple of questions, I don’t want you to feel afraid or pressured, just answer me honestly and you’ll be fine.” Although he’d meant to sound soft and reassuring his words sounded more like an indirect threat. A threat that you heard loud and clear. You gulped quietly, the dryness in your throat mocking you as you recalled rejected the offer for a drink. You nodded when you realised he was expecting an answer but it clearly wasn’t enough. “I need you to use your voice at all times in here, this could be used in court and we need you to be very clear so nothing is misinterpreted. Do you understand?” You wanted to cry. All you’d had in plan for the night was to get to your dorm, eat some 99 cent ramen and go to sleep yet here you were at 3 in the morning in an interrogation room for an attack you weren’t even sure you ‘witnessed’. “Yup.”

“Great, then let’s begin. Can you start by stating your name and age?” “Y/N, L/N. 20.” You nearly stuttered which would have been beyond embarrassing. You seriously couldn’t even manage your own name? “Alright, Miss L/N. Why were you out so late?” You paused for a moment to rehearse your answer but you couldn’t quite get it all out. “I work at a convenience store.” You gestured to your name tag for effect and he nodded, writing something down in his notepad.

“How often do you work there?” The question was irrelevant, unrelated and the first tell-tale sign that you were not a witness; you were a suspect. However, you were too tired to notice. “Twice a week. 4pm-2am.” “You live in the dormitories, correct?” You nodded but he gave you a pointed look that reminded you to use words. “Yes.” “2 shifts a week can’t possibly sustain you. How do you pay your dorm fees?” This was when your tired brain began picking up on the fact that you weren’t just a witness. “I tutor high school kids. It pays enough.” He didn’t reply, just wrote something down in his notepad again - an action which was beginning to make you anxious.

“When you were interrogated by the field officer you told him that you were hiding behind the administration building when you’d heard the victim scream, why were you hiding there?” “I was hiding from the uh, a-attacker.” “How did you encounter him before that?” “I already answered this…” You were visibly nervous which couldn’t have looked very promising. “Then you won’t mind answering again.” His tone was menacing and if you weren’t already very intimidated by his role and demeanour then his strikingly good looks would have done the job. You’ve always been very intimidated by attractive people which proved to an insane burden.

“I was returning to my dorm block when I saw him yelling at a cat, he saw me and began to lunge my way so I started to run but I’m not very good at running so I hid behind the building instead. I was in the process of calling the police when I heard the scream and I didn’t move until the police came.” He seemed unsatisfied with your answer but that was understandable. Your monologue wasn’t confidentially given, you stuttered and stumbled over your words consistently out of anxiety, but he didn’t know that and probably thought you were the very thing you had been running from.

“How did you know that the man chasing you was a student? You said he was in the initial questioning.” “I wasn’t sure. It was 2am and he was standing on a student campus, outside a student dormitory. So, I assumed he was a student.” Your tone was a little vindictive, possibly from the frustration of being labeled as a suspect for a crime you were positive you didn’t commit. “Did you know the student who was attacked?” “No. When can I leave?” The question came out rushed and on impulse but you didn’t care. You were far too tired to. “When I ask all my questions.” You nodded absentmindedly, focusing on the plain table instead.

“You think I did it, don’t you?” Tears were welling up in your eyes but you were too dehydrated to cry. “Right now you’re only a minor suspect, these are routine questions we have to ask and I really don’t see the issue with them if you’re truly innocent.” That surely shut you up, and made you feel a little stupid. Normally a question like that would never come from you but your exhaustion was taking a toll on your patience, and it was a heavy toll at that. “I’m sorry.” His angry features softened at your shaky voice. “How about we continue this tomorrow. Is 2pm okay for you?” You spaced out again, which was probably why he wanted to continue the interrogation the next day. “Is that okay?” He repeated, this time more pressing, you nodded but were quick to once again correct yourself and mutter a quick “yes” before you grabbed your backpack and suppressed the urge to Naruto run out of the room.

You walked out of the double doors only to be met with the dark night sky and a creeping fear that there was someone following you. You walked home from your shift every Friday and Saturday night and until that day nothing extremely bad had happened. Yet here you were cowardly glancing over your shoulder with every chance you got. You hated walking at night because your paranoia constantly slowed you down and what should’ve been a 10- minute walk turned into a 23-minute walk. It didn’t help that your recent encounter kept replaying in your head, the image of the poor victim on the floor vividly appearing every time you blinked.

As you rolled yourself up in a blanket burrito to escape the dark amiss of the night (more or less your own thoughts), you began to lull yourself into a soft sleep before your roommate, Alex, rudely barged into your room with little concern for your sleep.. “What happened? Why did you leave with the officers? Everyone’s talking about it you know, you’re on everyone’s snapchat story and your clothes really aren’t that flattering.” “A student got attacked and I was the only kind-of witness. The officers wanted to do some further questioning and how many times must I tell you its the uniform.” She sighed in relief before crushing you with a hug. “I’m glad you’re okay.” You suffocated under her grasp but you knew better than to try to fight Alex. She left the room to allow you to sleep but not before rambling about how she assumed you had turned into a rogue murderer.

#jungkook #jungkook imagine #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts reactions #jungkook fic #jungkook smut #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #bts #bts fic #this is my first time writing pls be nice

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