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teeth-farie · 4 months ago

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Restroom Rendezvous

Wade Wilson (Deadpool)/Reader

…: I’m back from the dead! I can’t guarantee that I’ll post often, but I at least wanted to share something I wrote. Deadpool has been my hyperfixation since I saw DP&W last summer, so this is set right after that. Thanks for reading!

Wade totally wasn’t caught up on Vanessa’s rejection, not at all. Things don’t work out sometimes, and that was fine, really, it was. She let him down easy, he was thankful for that, at the very least. People change. She had and so had he. They simply weren’t what each other needed anymore.

It hit him bitterly, that he can admit. He spent many long nights drowning his sorrows in ice cream cartons and reruns of the great British bake off, and a couple nights actually drowning himself in the bathtub. It was a rough period, but life goes on.

He’s since come to terms that romance just isn’t in the cards for him, not when most people ended up nauseous after a first impression. However, that wouldn’t stop him from living vicariously through Logan’s love life.

He’d put up a good fight so far, but Wade would be damned if he let all that go to waste because The Wolverine doesn’t know how to flirt with this universe's population. Seriously, he’s never seen someone be so politically incorrect and over correct in his life.

It all leads them to a seedy little bar, but one with enough charm to know you probably won’t be getting an std. Probably.

He has to tug Logan away from the bar and to the pool table before he can get too shitfaced, sighing in exasperation.

“It’s like you don’t even want to find anyone.”

“You said I’d be getting laid, not that I’d fall in love.”

“Oh, but don’t you just love the trope of strangers to fuck buddies to lovers?”

Logan snorts a puff of air from his nose as he grabs a pool stick and rubs the little thing of blue chalk on the end of it.

Wade turns to scope the bar population, leaning up against the edge of the pool table as Logan lined up pole tip to white ball, cradled by his fingers.

“At first I was like, ‘let him have some time, he’s new to this universe’, but now I’m like, ‘fuck it, he’s had enough time!’,” Wade begins, the sounds of pool balls clacking making him roll his eyes.

“See, that’s exactly it! I took you here to mingle and now you’re huddled away playing fucking pool. Alone. You aren’t even playing with anyone.”

Clack. Roll.

“I didn’t even think you could play pool alone, it seems like a very obvious two player game, but you do know best,”

Clack. Thunk!

“OW!!” Wade turns dramatically, hand on his ass to face the other man with a look of betrayal.

“Did you just hit my ass with a pool ball?”

“Shouldn’t be sittin’ on the table there then, bub.”

Wade frowns and Logan chuckles to himself, jaw flexing with his hidden grin.

“You’re gonna make me do the work for you, huh? You big baby. You big 5’3 baby.”

SNIKT!

“YEESH, don’t get your panties in a twist, I’m leavin!”

There’s that saying of ‘there’s always more fish in the sea’, but the fish out here look a little too dead eyed for his tastes. Well, Logie’s tastes.

Just when he’s about to call it quits, he spots you (Duh, you know what you came here for).

There’s nothing outright that he can pinpoint that draws him to you. Maybe it’s the way you dress, or the way you hold yourself, but something about you makes him feel just about as giddy as a kid in a candy shop. Part of him wonders if maybe he could snatch you for himself.

Checking his breath in a cupped hand, he winces and shrugs. It’s not like the rest of him was all that better.

Wade leans up against the bar next to you, dark hoodie shadowing his mottled face under the overhead lights. His smile still gleams, crooked lower teeth and blistered gums.

“You’ve been looking over at me and my friend a lot, I noticed it.”

“Ah, guilty as charged.” You respond, a split smile, beer on your breath. “I’m sorry though, if it made you uncomfortable.”

“No! No no, the opposite, actually,” he sits down on the barstool, leaning on his elbows against the sticky countertop. “See, my friend over there,” he points over his shoulder, voice suddenly low and conspirative.

You follow the point of his thumb to his friend, thick and burly, bent over the edge of the pool table to line up another shot. Truly a magnificent specimen, but your eyes don’t seem to be on that prize.

“I’ve been trying to set him up for ages now, and between you and me, he thinks you’re real cute.”

“He does, does he?”

“Oh yeah, super cute. He might seem like an asshole, but he’s a real softie at the center, all gooey and shit.”

“Mhm,”

“Ok, ok, I see I’m losing you a bit- but what’s the harm? Come on over, just don’t say I brought you over here.”

You sigh, resting your cheek on your palm, and he can’t help but feel a little scrutinized under your gaze.

“You know, it wasn’t him I was staring at.”

“I…oh, pfft, yeah, this whole thing,” he gestures to his face, scarred and tumored flesh pulled taut and tender. “Wanted a ticket to the freak show?”

“No, not like that,” you say quickly, a little hot in embarrassment. “I meant, I think you’re…cute.”

Wade almost balks at you, silent before scoffing. “Cute? Pardon my French, but are you fucking blind?”

You laugh, and you’re a little worried that you probably shouldn't have. “Listen…”

“Wilson. Wade Wilson. Did that sound cool?”

“Wade,” you say, and the way you say it makes him feel all tingly at the base of his spine. “You seem like you really love your friend.”

“Totally! We’re BFF’s, best friends forever, we’ve got the matching necklaces, too.” He tugs on the thin chain dangled around his neck, a half heart charm jingling underneath his hoodie.

You’re resting your hand on his thigh, a deliberate movement that makes his fingers twitch a little, necklace falling back under his shirt. You lick your lips a little, and he’s back under your spell.

“Wouldn’t your friend want you to…have a little fun?”

His mouth falls open to say something, then closes, then opens again. “F..fun? I like fun, what kinda fun are we talking about?”

Your head leans back with a laugh at his flustering, hand squeezing his thigh just a little tighter. He shifts in his seat and you notice it, of course you do.

“The kind of fun where you follow me into the bathrooms and I,” you stop, fingers inching up just a little bit higher on his thigh, just shy of bumping this fic rating from mature up to explicit. “Well,” you sigh out, and move your hand away entirely. “I wouldn’t want to give it away, not when you can come see for yourself.”

“Yes,” he strains, leaning up in his seat like he was ready to jump you right then and there. “I want that, I wanna have some fun with you—if, if you still want it?”

“Honey, I’ve been groping you for the last minute, of course I still want to.”

“Right! Right, right, right,”

“Leave a bit of distance, don’t make it so obvious,” you say to him, getting up from your seat and nodding towards the bathrooms with a wink before you leave.

Wade’s heart pounds in his ears almost louder than the bar's music. Surprisingly jazzy, they probably came on a themed night. In ways, he thinks his heart might be singing too.

He looks over to Logan, finding him still at that damn table. At least this time it looks like someone’s joined him, or he hopes so. He really wants to be following you right now.

Then, with a skittish bit of flair, Wade slinks away into the crowd.

—

Wade’s tarnished skin feels impossibly hot when your mouth makes contact, lips and tongue over the length of his jugular. His hands wander, catching on your clothing, rumpling the fabric under his grip. Yeah, this fic is getting rated explicit.

“This is fucked,” he huffs, head lolling back against the bathroom stall. You make a questioning sound against his neck and his whole body shivers. “S’posed to be hooking you up with Lo’, not…not…” you’ve found the tender little spot below his ear as he speaks, blunt teeth pressing firm and he hates how reactive he is to it.

“God, you’re not playing fair, this isn’t fair,” he wheedles, tugging on your clothes.

You laugh and wiggle your leg between his, hip pressing against his groin, and you’re pleased to find him half chubbed already. “If I were fair, I’d be talking to your friend right now instead of kissing a cutie in the bathroom.”

“I’m- am I the cutie?”

“Yes, you’re the cutie.”

You’re mouthing lower and Wade is sure his heart is going to burst from his chest Alien style. Your teeth catch on the chain of his necklace, a touch of your tongue against his skin and you tug, breathing out a laugh when he whimpers.

“That shouldn’t have been so hot,”

“But aren’t you glad it was?”

You’re only stopped by the neckline of his hoodie, lavishing your mouth over the exposed skin of his throat. He’s breathing heavy, Adam’s apple bobbing beneath your teeth.

He’d never thought anyone would want to be close to his cancer riddled skin, let alone kiss. The scabbing and sores of his skin don’t bother you, you devour him all the same.

Just as he thinks it can’t get any better, he feels your fingers tug on the waistband of his jeans.

“Is this ok?” You’re asking, all soft and hushed, like you haven’t unraveled him at the very seams.

“Uh,” he stammers like an idiot, flushed red and sweating. “Yes, yes, it’s ok, it’s more than ok, actually! I’d really uh, it’d be totally cool, totally consensual—“

You cut him off with a kiss, fumbling with his buttons and pulling down the zipper with a huff puffed from your nose.

His pants shuck down easily enough, caught around his thighs while your hand finds his erection. The first touch is like bliss, your fingers wrapping around his mottled cock and tugging, toying with the foreskin around the tender head.

You make a pleased sound, reverberating into his mouth as you give him a testing squeeze, his hips canting forward.

It feels better than he anticipated, much better, though he supposes it’s due to only having his right (and left) hand for a while.

“No undies, huh?” You’re laughing, a sickly sweet sound that makes his knees feel weak. “And here I thought you were just trying to set your friend up. Were you hoping for this all along?”

He shakes his head, though it’s more like a frantic twitch. “Huuh, nuh-uh,”

“No? I think you did,” his cock weeps enough to make the slide of your fist easy, the soft palm of your hand so much better than his own blistered one. “I think you were hoping I’d pick you, that I’d come kiss you all better, make you feel good.”

“Please,” is all he can muster, nosing against your head with a pitiful sound.

“Oh, you poor thing,” you croon, letting go of his cock to put your cupped palm below his chin, expectant. “Come on, get it wet for me, Wade.”

It’s all but purred, the way you say it. Like butter and cotton candy had a baby and it was your voice. And he’s obeying, gathering the saliva in his mouth and spitting it into your palm, flushed red hot and wanting.

“Good boy,” you whisper and he thinks he’s in love.

Your wet hand is grabbing his cock again, slick and dripping.

“Tell me what you like, cutie.”

“Tighter? Oof- not that tight, j-just kinda- ohhh,”

His body feels like it’s blooming, warmth flooding into his nerves different from the anxious, hormonal flush of his blood. He sucks his lip in between his teeth, eyes rolling when the web of your finger and thumb catch on the head.

“Now that’s a pretty expression,” up and down, up and down, wet and messy. “I think it’s cool, how your dick is like the rest of you. Nice on the hands…” you thumb over the uneven skin, thumb pressing against the more tender and raw flesh, pulsing with his heartbeat.

“Oh, ha..haha, r-ribbed for your pleasure, amiright?”

“Oh, Wade…” your tongue slides across the shell of his ear, saccharine voice a heady whisper. “I’m not the one that’s gonna be bent over.”

“Oh my god,” he wheezes, hands shooting up to cover his face in near comedic embarrassment.

You laugh in his ear and it sounds utterly mocking, your voice trailing off into a sigh of a moan (which isn’t helping him in the slightest- or it is, and that’s why he’s suffering).

“God, you’re wet, I don’t think I even needed you to spit at all.” You thumb over the head, a back and forth rub that gets your fingertips sticky with his pre. “Look at that, like a fucking garden hose.”

Wade huffs loudly through his hands, spreading his fingers to peek out, pupils dilated under the milky sheen of his eyes. “Don’t stop,” it comes out strained and weak when he says it. “K-keep talking, I need- I-I—“

His hips jerk in aborted thrusts, biting on his own tongue when his teeth clench. He whimpers, and you kiss him better, tongue against tongue.

“Close,” he still tries to whimper anyway, his balls drawing up to his body in anticipation, the building of his orgasm festering in his gut.

“Close? Alright, alright,” you start to shuffle him forward and he makes an indignant sound when he’s pulled away from your mouth. “Aw, don’t look at me like that, I’m just trying to avoid getting a stain on my clothes.”

You position him over the toilet and he grabs at the tank of it, your hand wrapping around him from behind and pointing his cock down to the bowl. It’s not the first time he's jerked off over a toilet, but this time is definitely more enjoyable.

“There you go,” he can hear the smile in your voice, feel your hands wrapped tight around him. It makes him feel kinda jelly inside, soft and jiggly and vulnerable.

He finds himself holding onto the hand on his stomach, your other making quick work of his erection, pumping quickly to push him right back to the edge again.

“C-can you,” he swallows, tries to catch his bearings.

“Can I what, sweetheart?”

It only makes him whine, a gutteral noise from the back of his throat. “Say I’m good,”

“Ha, you want to be a good boy? Want me to call you that?”

“Please,” really, it’s all he wants. At least in the moment. Or maybe after too, think about the way he made you happy and apply that to himself so he doesn’t seem like that much of a fuck up anymore.

You don’t notice his inner quarrels, of course you don’t, but you still squeeze his hand back, dig your thumb into just the right spots with your other to make him push back against you. It’s enough to tip him over from the edge where he teetered, down into the fallen abyss or whatever poetic shit his mind could conjure.

You keep his cock aimed and he spills into the toilet, shuddering with the force of it. It’s the deep rooted kind of orgasm, the kind that makes your eyes roll and bones go gelatinous. Yeah, that kind. It’s honestly the best orgasm he’s had in months, he thinks he could actually cry.

No, scratch that, it’s not hot to cry after sex, even if it’s a bathroom handy.

He feels your hand move up and down against his stomach, petting him, such a soft action that he does sniffle a little.

“Good boy,” you say to him, tender, kind.

Oh boy, here comes the waterworks.

—

Wade would have been an idiot not to have grabbed your number after that night. Actually, it’s more like you grabbed his phone and put your number in yourself, which made him fall just ever a little bit more in love.

It’s scary, he thinks, to try again after so much heartbreak. Vanessa would always be his friend, even if at one point, he had still wished it to be more. Actually, he thinks she might be proud of him for making another new friend, and that thought does make him feel warm inside.

He meets you today at a cute little coffee shop for a technical first date after the restroom rendezvous (which he’s still surprised got no knocks on the door, thanks author).

It’s cliche, sickeningly so, but it’s so healing to his mangled up little heart that he’s damn well bringing a bouquet with him, too.

He knows it’s your favorite spot, not because you told him, but because he did some light stalking on his own. Hey, there’s nothing wrong with doing a little research! He had to make sure you weren’t an ax murderer or something (which would have just been another score in his book).

He watches you from the window of the shop for a minute, a certain type of nervousness gnawing in his chest, more so than he felt with you before. Maybe it’s because this time it’s more than just a mindless fling. Maybe he just really likes you.

You catch him when you look up from your phone, giving him a wave through the window and he gathers himself up once more, and pushes open the door.

#spicy #deadpool #deadpool x reader #wade wilson x reader #dom reader

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ithebookhoarder · 1 year ago

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Hi! I’m not sure if you’re still taking requests for criminal minds but if you are could you do the BAU react to their so being a paramedic/firefighter? :))

If you decide to write this thank you in advance

(BAU Headcanons) If their S.O. was a paramedic/firefighter 🚨

A/N: You're very welcome! Here you are my angel. I'm always taking requests but I can't promise how long I'll take to reply and finish them 😅 Hope this is worth the wait. Also - major shout out to any first responders out there. You are literal superheroes! 💕

Warnings: Mentions of injuries, mentions of mental health, alcohol references, sexual references, references to death. (Let me know if I missed any)

Aaron Hotchner

Aaron would be honestly so in awe of you and what you do for a living. He’d also appreciate having a partner who understands what it’s like to have a job with unpredictable hours, such high stakes, and requires risking yourself to save people.

As such, he would know how important it is to prioritise time together for the two of you. It’s why he is so active with forming a family calendar as he knows that, if it isn’t written in ink, you may never find an opportunity to do something.

He is all about creating concrete plans for you both, so you have something to look forward to and actually have a chance of being able to arrange it, even if it’s months in advance. It doesn’t matter if it’s Jack’s soccer game, going for a jog in the park together, or a week-long vacation.

However, he’s learned to be far more flexible if plans don’t work out the way you’d hoped. He’s had virtual Thanksgivings with you over the phone, a boxing-day Christmas, and even turned running errands on a day off into a date-day.

We know Aaron would honestly hate knowing how much danger you’re in sometimes at work but he also knows he has no leg to stand on given his job and what he does every day. So, you both agree to let the other one know at least once a day that you’re ok, even if only by text.

You’d have to agree to a ‘no work at home’ policy for you both to even stand a chance of relaxing at home and focusing on Jack (who thinks he has the coolest parents ever! Like, two superheroes for parents? He’s the luckiest kid in the world).

Aaron would be such a proud partner too, even if he doesn’t always say it out loud. He shows it in his face every time he and Jack come to visit you at work, or when he displays a picture of you receiving an award on his desk for everyone to see.

He even helps Jack when he asks to go as you for Halloween one year - the sight of which made you cry so hard you couldn’t even speak for a good hour after. Instead, you snap a picture and carry it with you everywhere when you leave the house, and even stick a copy in your locker.

He’d have notifications set too, tracking incidents in your area so he knows when you may be working or out on a job. He’s also not above pulling the ‘FBI’ card if he even hears of someone making your life hard at work.

He’d also be the biggest hypocrite, always worried you’re not getting enough sleep or eating enough, despite him running on no sleep and three expressos.

He’d also be the first to rip into you if he found out you’d taken some unnecessary risk whilst out on a call.

“I have enough worrying about my own idiots over here without worrying about you doing something stupid too. Please, you need to be more careful, ok? I can’t and won’t lose you. Not like that.”

David Rossi

Rossi has lost many people over the years so he would definitely be terrified of losing you, and getting hurt. However, he knows what it’s like to have a passion for helping people and he’d never stop you from doing what you love and making a difference.

Besides with his crazy schedule he doesn’t mind having a partner who is mostly out working, or also operates on a crazy schedule. It’s almost complimentary, and allows you both not to miss each other too badly when you’re busy.

Rossi strikes me as a supportive partner in his own ways. For instance, he would make massive donations to fundraisers for your department and for causes supported by your work. He wouldn’t even tell you most of the time, leaving you to work out where the mystery million dollars came from overnight after you just so happened to mention it to him over dinner.

Speaking of dinner, he’d be keen to invite your colleagues over to his place for social functions, offering to hosts BBQs and family dinners. He’d also invite his BAU family too, knowing how nice it is for your worlds to mix and for people to relax amongst people who get what it’s like to deal with difficult issues.

He also makes homemade dinners at least once a week, cooking enough so that you both have leftovers to take to work for the next few days.

He’s also keen to share any recipes he can with you, so you know how to make them when you’re on shift for hours on end.

“Just because you’re busy saving lives doesn’t mean someone shouldn’t take care of you too!”

This man would also make sure to call you whenever he gets a chance, especially if he is away on a case. He likes hearing your voice and makes sure to ask all about your day so far, knowing its good for both of you to touch base.

Derek Morgan

This man would be the biggest supporter and cheerleader. Like, you know your pictures are all over his desk and he’s always bragging about how you saved someone’s life whenever he gets a chance.

“Oh yeah, that’s my baby. They’re a literal superhero. They’re badass.”

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t worry about you when you’re away working or if he sees some major incident on the news. He’ll be refreshing his phone over and over until he sees a text from you telling him you’re ok.

You know he will also be begging Penelope to see what she can find out too, through any means necessary (Hotch doesn’t exactly have to know about it…)

You bet your ass that if he does hear you’re hurt or if something is wrong then he will be bolting his way down to the ER or wherever you are the minute he is able to. Penelope would likely be one step ahead of him if he was unable to be there right away taking care of you until he can.

Morgan is such a good care giver too. He knows how hard it is to take care of others if you don’t take care of yourself so is King of supporting healthy habits. I’m talking meal plans so you eat right, proper sleeping habits when you can make them work, and getting out of your apartment on your days off.

He’s all for vegging on the sofa sometimes but he’s keen to support you where he can and remind you there’s a world outside of work and your home.

He would be the kind of partner who would suggest doing things together as a couple, whether it’s a daily jog in the park or even training for some kind of race. This gives the two of you a shared goal and also shared time together - including in the shower once you get home.

“What? It’s twice as fast this way and costs half the water bill, sweetheart.”

Also, you know this man gives the world’s best massages and he would be only too willing to give you one when you get home. He’d even try and wait up for you if he could, although you’ve come home more than once to find him passed out on the sofa.

Emily Prentiss

With her track record of trusting and being betrayed by people I think Emily would be extremely anxious about having a first responder for a partner, even if she would also be totally amazed by you and thinks you’re so badass.

Like, you can’t tell me she wouldn’t be beaming ear to ear if you ever came to visit the BAU. She would be showing you off to everyone and anyone, giving them all a face to put to the name she’s been talking about for weeks.

“Babe, you’re amazing. You’re literally saving lives every day. All I did yesterday was fill out a stack of paperwork as big as my arm.” (She ignores the disapproving look Hotch shoots her for that comment…)

It’s just that she’s scared about losing you and it would take you both a while to work out how to make your relationship work and communicate effectively with one another about your fears. I mean, it’s not like you aren’t as equally worried about her but it takes a while for you both to accept that it’s a part of your relationship and that neither of you are willing to give your jobs or each other up.

When she’s away on a case, or if you’re working overnight, then she won’t be able to sleep unless she sees she has a text from you telling her you’re ok and still in one piece. Of course, she prefers to be able to call if she can but knows it isn’t always possible for both of you if you’re in the middle of a shift.

She’s a safe space so wouldn’t take it personally when you get home and have fatigue, adrenaline dumps, or just lack any potential excitement or energy for plans you made in advance.

She’ll meet you where you are, whether it’s cancelling plans and staying in, or going out anyway because you need a distraction. As long as she’s with you then she’s happy and it isn’t like she doesn’t do the same thing after a really bad case.

Also, we know that you’re the only one she trusts to look after Sergio when she isn’t there, knowing you will be better having someone to cuddle, feed, and look after when you’re not on shift. You become Penelope’s version of Sergio too, as Emily instructs their tech analyst to keep an eye on you both when she can’t.

She’d be keen to spoil you from time to time and indulges on takeout, trips to the movies, and wants to take you to as many amazing places on holiday as she possibly can. She knows it’s good to travel and to have a complete break from your daily routine. Plus, she knows so many people and so many languages that you’re spoilt on choices of where to stay next.

I honestly feel like JJ would struggle having a first responder for a partner. She’d be such a Momma Bear that its both wonderful and intimidating. Like, we know she and Will worked it out eventually with him being a cop, but the fear of losing you would be a big issue for the two of you for a while. As would be navigating how you both deal with the other’s feelings after a bad day on the job. It takes some trial and error before you get into the swing of things.

For example, she would give the best pep talks and would also know just what to say after a bad day.

“You did everything you could, sweetheart. I am so proud of you and you saved so many lives today. You may not have been able to save that one, but they knew you tried. They knew you were there and that you cared. That’s all we can ask for in the end. You are amazing and I’ve got you.”

When you’re both home together, or if you’ve told her you’re having a rough shift, then bath times are a must. She normally has one run, with candles lit, by the time you get in the door. She is also keen to crack open a bottle of wine, or whatever you drink you want, to help you both relax as you lie together in the warm, soapy water and just forget everything for a little while.

She’d also insist on you both leaving voice messages for the other when you were away, so you could wish the other a ‘goodnight’. It’s comforting to her but she also likes being able to share them with Henry too.

Speaking of phones, this ex-media liaison would have so many alerts set up and contacts to call if she even suspects you may be out on a major incident. It’s honestly kind of mind-blowing how quickly she managed to get on the phone with your superior, after hearing you could be out on a job that had gone awry. She was in a different state at the time but wouldn’t hang up until they told her what had happened, where you were, and if you were alright.

She’s also keen to support you in a practical sense, so offers to do loads of laundry for you between shifts and also cleans the house as a way of making sure you have a nice home to come back to. You’d be sure to return the favour when you could, but she likes doing it and being able to show her appreciation for you in such a basic but important way.

JJ would be way more relaxed leaving Henry with you if she’s away, knowing your training makes you like the best possible babysitter ever.

That, and you cannot tell me that Henry would not worship the ground you walk on. After finding out what you do for work, that little angel would make siren noises whenever you’re in the car together - something you’re keen to encourage as “everyone knows the best part of the job is turning the siren on, JJ. Duh.”

Luke Alvez

Luke would be so proud and so scared for you sometimes, being a first responder.

Luke would understand that you both have super stressful jobs so is keen to suggest a ’leave work at the door’ policy unless one of you really wants to share. He knows sometimes all he wants to do after a challenging case is walk in the door and face-plant on the sofa and he’d be a hypocrite if he didn’t let you do the same… that doesn’t mean he won’t reach over and gently pull of your boots for you, and leave a glass of something on the coffee table for when you feel like it.

He is also a firm believer that Roxie cures everything, so would be only too happy to leave her with you when he’s out of town, so you can have all the cuddles and playtime you want.

He also walks her by your work if he gets time so you can come out and sneak a cuddle if you’re not too busy or on a job. Roxie is now your work’s unofficial therapy dog and she loves her role - and the added attention very much. (And you best know she has her own little version of your uniform too).

I feel like he’s the kind of guy who would wake up with you if you have an early start, even if he doesn’t, just so he can cook breakfast and make you coffee in your favourite to-go mug.

“You deserve to start your day in the right way, so go and enjoy your shower, baby, and it’ll be ready for you when you come out.”

He’d also leave you stupid little love notes in your bag too, knowing they make you smile when you find them later on. You also like to keep them and stick them in your locker for luck, and normally have one tucked in your pocket too.

He’d also recommend different kinds of music for you to listen to on shift, making you playlists you can share and add to when you’re not together. It’s got so bad your co-workers refuse to let you have the aux when you’re driving around anymore as your choices are so varied they get whiplash.

Luke also loves getting involved wherever he can, whether it’s donating time to help organise a fundraiser, bringing pizza by work, or going with you as a date to any formal events you’re invited to. He scrubs up niceeee and he loves seeing you all dressed up formal too.

Penelope Garcia

Penelope would worship the ground you walk on and frets about you like she frets about all her BAU babies when they’re out on a case - but WORSE.

So she does what she does best and compensates with love and kindness. She takes care of the people she loves and you would know that better than anyone. This queen would totally make you care packages and would make sure you had them delivered when you’re on shift.

“You spend all your time taking care of other people, my real life knight in shining armour. The least I can do is make sure you have some fluffy socks, face masks, and other basic pamper essentials to take care of yourself! Oh, and don’t forget the protein shake I made for you! And stay hydrated! And be safe!”

She’d make sure to send gifts for your co-workers too. It’s why she’s the favourite spouse of all your colleagues and she’s greeted like the queen she is whenever she visits.

Her cookies have earned her the unofficial title of ‘Star Baker’ and you best know there have been physical fights over them whenever you’ve left them in the crew mess. In fact, your boss has had to give you all warnings about it as a result, calling ‘dibs’ on them if you couldn’t all be trusted to share.

She would also give you one of her many mascots for the dashboard of your rig, knowing that the little bobblehead or whatever will remind you of her when you’re out on a call.

Speaking of calls, you know she is tuned in to all scanners / messaging systems so knows exactly where you are at all times, but especially if there is a call out. You best believe she is making sure you’re ok and has her eyes and ears open if you need help of any kind or back-up.

As a result, you know she has been scolded more than once by Hotch and by the local authorities for interfering and hijacking calls when she thinks you’re being ignored or need assistance.

Penelope would also be the first person to encourage you to attend some kind of support group, or seek out some kind of therapy, to help deal with all the stressful and traumatic things you deal with on a day to day basis. She would be only too happy to help you find one and would drive you there and back when she’s able. She’d even come along if you wanted her to.

Dr Spencer Reid

Spencer would be an incredibly proud partner and you know it. He would show his support in various different ways and would absolutely take any and all opportunities to remind people he’s dating a superhero (especially Morgan). He doesn’t understand why someone as amazing as you would choose to date someone like him.

He would like giving you book recommendations so you always have something to read on shift. He’d give you his copies to borrow, so you can enjoy his pencil notes in the margins when he’s not with you.

Not only that, but he’d also be happy to take recommendations from you too - no matter how different they may be from his usual reading material. That way you can both compare notes when you both get home and leave work behind for a moment.

Also, you know Spence would be a fountain of knowledge about your job and has probably read up on anything he didn’t already know about your field. There isn’t a piece of jargon or code that he doesn’t know and he loves trying to use it when talking to your colleagues when he visits sometimes. It earns him their respect, which you know he would be nervous about, as your co-workers are like your second family. He’s that way with the BAU and he wants to impress the people who mean the most to you.

His thirst for knowledge means he is always willing to let you practise different exercises on him and is keen to learn whatever you’re willing to tell him (something that has come in handy on many of his own cases).

In return, he would like sharing whatever statistics he has memorised about the work you do. It’s also why he is so concerned about you, knowing how much your role takes out of you. His job is tiring and traumatic enough, but he is at least part of a big team and works only one case at a time.

“I’m just saying sweetheart, it’s estimated that 30% of first responders develop behavioral health conditions including, but not limited to, depression and PTSD, as compared with 20% in the general population. If you ever want to talk to me or someone else, like a professional, then you know that’s ok.”

As much as he isn’t an overly affectionate person, I feel like he’d be the kind of person to buy you both those bracelets that you can tap and it sends a pulse to the other, letting them know you thought about them. It’s like a virtual tap on the shoulder just to let you both know they’ve got you and love you.

He’d also drive the doctors insane if you ever got hurt on the job, yelling at them to double check their diagnosis if he even thinks you’re not getting the best treatment and care possible.

He’d also insist on taking care of you during your recovery, not trusting anyone else to do it right - and he also has Dr Who primed for your entertainment. What could be better than that?

Masterlist

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lucimaaie · 3 months ago

Text

valentine ✧.* tlou

summary - you convince your girlfriend to celebrate valentine's day with you.

a/n - first time writing abby so bare with me, so maybe ooc abby, like 600 wc for both, was supposed to be a headcanon but turned into whatever this is, fluffiest fluff, actually edited and proofread this time, lemme know if you want me to write more for abby or headcanon-like stuff, anyway enjoy, happy valentine's!

The concept of holidays were obviously nonexistent in the midst of an apocalypse, especially Valentine’s Day. There were remnants of it in run down convenience and grocery stores—Shitty flowers left for dead and chocolate boxes rummaged in a hope for some sustenance— but nobody cared enough to set aside time to acknowledge the old holiday. They were too busy fighting to survive.

So when you brought it up, you weren’t expecting a completely receptive reaction or even a positive one. It was indeed one of those seemingly meaningless holidays that even then people forgot about. Yet it wormed its way into your mind after recently learning about it. Imagining a day where you could just appreciate your girlfriend was no doubt sappy, but now was the chance to test out your curiosity, right?

“I just don’t get why it’s important,” Abby would say when you brought it up. Her brows furrowed as she pushed the sticks and uneven longs around in the fireplace. The fire was small but much needed to combat the cold air that seeped through the walls come night.

Your lips pursed as you thought of a way to put it that didn’t make you sound insane. The idea very much was. There were some days when you were worried the cold would freeze your fingers off and draw away all the game, and now you were concerned with celebrating. “It’s about..love and appreciation, but not like the one with the big dinners..uh, thanksgiving? Yeah, it’s different than that.”

“I do know what Valentine’s day is.” She commented dryly, sitting back next to you at the foot of your shared bed, wrapping her arm around you.

“How was I supposed to know?” You poked her cheek.

Abby swatted your hand away playfully, chuckling as she pulled her head back. “I never said I didn’t know about it. I just don’t get it.” She grabbed your hand from her cheek and intertwined your fingers. Her face soon grew serious as she took in the combined warmth of your body and the fire. How nice it felt to have someone to be so close to. “I appreciate you already.” She said genuinely.

Her words made your brain blank and your heart beat faster. Everything about this moment was making you feel like some kind of sap.

“I don’t need flowers to show you how I feel.” Quite honestly, she wouldn’t know what to do if you presented her with flowers and a bed of rose petals, if you could even find those in the freezing winter. She wouldn’t hate it..but it sounded like too much.

“What if I just wanna give you flowers or not even flowers— If I just wanna do something special?” Your voice was quiet against the crackling of the fire, like it was a secret for just the two of you. It partly was. Only you got this softer side of Abby. You turned to look up at her, taking in the light blush on her cheeks and dilated eyes. “Just something different from every other day.”

“I..won’t stop you.” She mumbled with a bashful smile, not knowing what to do with the attention. She took in the awe in your eyes, inwardly cursing herself for letting you talk her into yet another pre-outbreak tradition “for the sake of normalcy,” Truth be told, this life with you was the closest she’d ever gotten to normalcy, not having a mission or some type of assignment. She’ll admit it drove her crazy at first: That need to commit every day to something other than surviving. But you helped.

“Good,” You pressed your lips against hers softly, both hands cupping her jaw, smiling as you took in her satisfied hum. “Cause you couldn’t have anyway.”

“I—shut up. This better be worth your hassling,” She grabbed your jaw when you pulled away, swiping her thumb against the apple of your cheek. Her hair fell over her shoulder and created some type of curtain around your faces. “Ugh, you did it again.” She groaned, glancing down at your lips. “C’mere.”

Bringing it up to Ellie on the other hand send her into an internal frenzy. You’d have talked about it in a feigned off handed manner, laying on the edge of her bed as you watched her doodle mindlessly. “The stupid holiday with the chocolates and cards?” She mumbled, not thinking much of it. You had probably heard about it from Maria or somebody else who was alive before the outbreak.

You chuckled in response, mentally getting ready for the jokes. “Yeah, that.”

“What about it?” Her brows furrowed as she thought about it some more. Why would you be mentioning it– Oh. “You..wanna celebrate it?” Her hand would stop, hovering over the paper as she was pulled out of her focus. How the hell would she find anything to give you in what was mostly ruins? What would you even want?

“Do you?” You thought you were being subtle in your line of questioning but she caught the deflection.

“I asked first.” She turned around in her chair to face you, dropping her pencil and leaning forward to grab your hand from under your head. “Do you wanna celebrate Valentine’s Day? The whole love letter and rose’s thing?” She ran her fingertips over your knuckles as she spoke, using you to fidget as she often did hoping you’d just pass it off as affection. She could write you a letter--nah, she’s done that before. Or a song? She already had so many.

“I mean, it’s not realistic, but—“ You sat and scooted off the bed to take a seat on the edge of her desk. She immediately took to looking up at you as you tried to explain “It’d be sweet.” You blurted. The words still felt inadequate. “We already do birthdays and Christmas, but it’d just be about us. So..maybe I wanna celebrate it in our own way.”

Ellie waited for you to finish before placing a hand on your thigh, assuring you as if she wasn’t troubleshooting ideas in her head right now. It wasn’t— It was stupid, she had to admit, but it was sweet that you wanted to celebrate being together. It had taken her so long just to realize how much she liked you and then to finally tell you. She couldn’t imagine taking you for granted now. She hummed, thinking about it. “Our own way..how?”

“Anything. We can..go to that cabin we found a few weeks ago..have alone time..I don’t know.”

“Mm, abandoned cabin. Sounds romantic.” She said dryly, picking up her pencil to resume doodling, but the inspiration didn’t come. She found herself too distracted by ideas. So instead a messy, unorganized list of ideas made it to the paper. She inwardly rolled her eyes at how quickly she subscribed to the idea.

“You know what I mean,”

“I’m messing with you. If you want, we can do it.” She insisted with a nonchalant downturn of her lips. The bounce of her leg gave away her true emotions: the weird mix of nervousness and excitement the thought had given her. Her mind being both her gift and curse was already ripping through the possibilities of your reactions based on what she did for you.

“Really?” You perked up, back straightening almost comically. Ellie had tried not to laugh and the best she could do was a small smile. “You don't think I’m being sappy?”

“I absolutely think you’re being sappy.” She teased, scooting so that she was closer to you. She wrapped her arms around your waist, fidgeting fingers now preoccupied with the stray strings of your hoodie. “But I’ll go along with it because I love doing stupid things with you.” She admitted earnestly, pulling you to be closer.

“That’s the sappiest thing you’ve ever said to me.” You wrapped your arms around her neck, fingers messing with the baby hairs at the nape of her neck. “And I love it,”

“Nope. It’s all you, you’re rubbing off on me.”

thank you for reading!

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writtenbyan-aries · 6 months ago

Note

in the works of Sabrina carpenter please please please give me a Sam enemies to lovers fic

Warnings: strong language, mentions of weapons (guns, knives), injuries, dark business aesthetic, mentions of drugs, drinking, name calling, toxic relationship between reader and boyfriend, toxic actions, enemies to lovers, angsty, kissing

Word Count: 4.7k | unedited

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Ever since day one, out of all of Geo’s employees, Sam was the one that got under your skin the most.

He was an asshole. Always had something to say, and it was usually never anything good, or nice. Mostly snobby and eye roll provoking.

He’s been with Geo since he started this whole thing.

All of you sat pretty on piles of money, you really only had to worry about two things - if a body needed to disappear and if the police were involved.

Geo owned a casino in Las Vegas, which was mainly party in the front and business in the back, behind closed doors of course.

People would come, pick up what they needed, paid, and left.

“Baby. Pass me that tray.” Geo reaches back and snaps his fingers, “Now please.”

You reach forward, grabbing the tray from the table and you hand it to him. He takes it and sets it down in front of him.

“You’re welcome.” You mumble as you go back to looking at your magazine.

“What was that?” He turns around, giving you a look and you shake your head, “Nothing, this mag-“

“Mhm.” He turns back around, talking with his associates as he rolls up a blunt, “So as I was saying..”

You take a deep breath, shaking your head as you flip to the next page. The door open and you look up, rolling your eyes when Sam walks through with Colby.

You avoid looking at him, but you listen in to what he’s saying, “Hey boss, Cartermen is outside, he wants to speak to you.”

“That fucker owes me money. Does he have it?” Geo leans back in his chair, staring at Sam and Sam shrugs, “I don’t know, I-“

“How the fuck don’t you fuckin’ know?” Geo scoffs, “Fuck, your job isn’t that hard.”

You glance at Sam, you did feel bad for how Geo treated him - sometimes.

Sam sighs, “He keeps saying that he won’t talk to anyone but you. I’ve asked hi- Colby and I both asked him if he has it and he refuses to speak.”

“Tell him if he doesn’t have my money, he’s a dead man walking.” Geo laughs, “What’s the main rule when working with me, baby?”

“Geo always gets paid.” You look at him and he points his thumb towards you, “Now with that, go back out there, and tell him if he comes in here, I’ll have to call Lowen and I don’t want to have to wake him up at this hour.”

“Yes, boss.” Sam gives you one last glance and you give him a disgusted look before looking back at your magazine.

You hear the door click shut and Geo goes back to talking to the men across from him.

Not even a minute later, there’s commotion outside and a bang on the door.

“God fucking damn, don’t they know I’m in a fuckin’ meeting?” Geo grumbles as he gets up. As he walks over to the door, it flings open and Geo lays his hand on the gun being held to his body by his belt, “What the fuck!?”

“You can’t-“ Colby grabs Cartermen, “Dude. You really shouldn’t be in here.”

“You better be here to deliver my money.” Geo walks over to him, grabbing his collar, “Do you have my money?”

The look on the guys face goes cold as he leans in, “Just fuckin’ kill me, Geo.” He glances towards you, “You and that slut over there can both go. To. Hell.”

Geo doesn’t even bother sticking up for you, but that’s nothing normal. You’ve been in the game long enough to know that you just brush it off.

“The fuck did you just say? I’m not getting my money? Is that what I heard.” Geo tilts his head and Cartermen laughs, “Yeah. That’s basically what I fuckin’ said.”

You lay your magazine down, getting ready to duck and cover if things go south.

“I don’t think you need to do this here, boss. Want us to take him to the-“ Colby is cut off by Sam, “If you’re saying that because she’s in here, she knows she’ll see shit like this.”

“Ignore her. She’s nothing in this situation right now.” Geo shakes his head, pulling his gun out to rest it under Cartermen’s chin, “I’m going to ask you.. one more time.. where is my-“

“Fuck y-“

You hear the tunk of the silenced gun go off and Sam and Colby let his body drop to the ground.

You swallow, tensing up as Geo turns towards you, “Call Lowen. I can’t deal with him right now.” Geo tucks his gun back into his jeans and sits back down.

You grab your phone and dial Lowen, leaning back on the couch as the line rings.

“This better be fucking good.”

“There’s a body for you. Back office of the Royale.” You look up at the ceiling, “Sam and Colby are on, they can help.”

“Be there in twenty.”

The line clicks and you look over, “He’ll be here in twenty.”

Sam scoffs, “Why the hell would you say I’ll help? I have to go collect a payment from Mr. Moore, y/n.”

“Um..” you tilt your head, “Because you’re here, Sam? You do realize that you have more than one job, right?”

Sam rolls his eyes and looks at Geo, “Do you want me to-“

“Do whatever you want, Golbach. I have to figure this out with them. Like I’ve been trying to do for an hour now.” Geo lights up the blunt and takes a drag, “Take y/n home. She doesn’t need to be here.”

Sam smirks as he watches your face drop. You stand up, walking up behind Geo, “Baby, I can st-“

“Home. Now.” Geo brushes your hands off of his shoulders and you tilt your head, “Will you be home tonight?”

“Probably, I don’t fucking know, just go.”

You grab your bag from the couch and walk over to the door, not giving Sam another look.

“Make sure Moore has my money. If not, you know what you need to do. Colby, you can help Lowen.” Geo gives the orders and Sam walks out, closing the door behind him.

He looks at you and shakes his head, “You better not bitch the whole way home.”

“Even better, I won’t say a goddamn word.” You watch as he walks past you before you follow him out the back of the casino.

Sam walks around and gets in the drivers seat, starting the car while you get in to sit beside him.

You furrow your brows, “My house is that way.” You point, to the right as he turns left, and he keeps his stare straight, “Thought you weren’t going to speak?”

“Well, when I’m going someplace other than home, I’m not just going to sit here and let it fucking happen? I’m not dumb.”

“I never said you were.” Sam glances at you and you roll your eyes, “If you’re taking me with to get this money, I’m staying in the car.”

“I expected that.”

“What’s your problem?” You look at Sam, “Like, seriously? Why are you such an asshole?”

“Because I have to be.”

“You have to be?” You scoff, “Not really, but okay. Cool.” You shake your head and look out the window, “I just..” you laugh, “I just want to know what I did to deserve you always giving me a snarky or bullshit remark.”

He shrugs, “I don’t have an answer for that.”

“Liar.”

Sam stops the car abruptly, causing you to jolt forward, “Sam. What the fuck?”

“You can call me anything you want, y/n. Okay? But let’s get one thing straight.” He stares into your eyes, “I’m not a fucking liar.”

You just stare back at him, “Next time, you don’t have to almost cause an accident to try and prove yourself to me.” You unbuckle to unlock your seatbelt and click it back into the buckle.

“I’m not a liar.”

“Okay, Sam.” You nod, “You’re not a liar, but you’re still an asshole.”

He doesn’t say anything. He just starts driving, and soon, after an achingly silent ride, you arrive to the Moore business and Sam goes inside.

You’ve been on pick ups like this before, so you weren’t really nervous, but your nervousness was peaked when Sam didn’t come out after a certain amount of time.

You were anxiously bouncing your leg, looking all around for anyone who might approach the car.

You knew that wirh being Geo’s girl, people would get desperate and potentially use you as way to get out of paying. That hasn’t happened, and you were grateful, but it still sat in the back of your mind.

You let out a sigh of relief when you see Sam come out with a bag.

He gets in, tossing it in the back and he immediately starts driving again.

“Did it go okay?” You ask, looking over at him.

He nods, “Yeah, fine.”

“Okay. Good.”

“Why do you care?”

“I just.. you didn’t come out within the time you normally do.. I just didn’t know if-“

Sam cuts you off, “You were worried about me?” He chuckles, glancing over at you, “Weren’t you?”

“No, I just, didn’t want to jump the gun and call Geo or anything, you know.. I seem to be causing a lot of issues lately.” You raise your brows and sigh, “I don’t know how.”

After a few minutes of silence, Sam breaks it, “It’s not you.”

You nod, “Mm.”

“He’s just, under a lot right now, trying to get this new business deal going. And Cartermen coming in the way he did. He’s just stressed.”

“So, what you’re saying is, fuck my feelings? I need to suck it up?” You laugh, “Figures.”

“No. No. That’s not..” he sighs, “Nevermind.”

“No, what?”

“No, you don’t want to listen so.” Sam pulls into your driveway, driving up the circle to the walkway to the door, “You’re home.”

“I see that.” You reach down to grab your bag, “Thanks.” You go to reach for the door but Sam grabs your arm.

You look at his hand and up at his face, pulling your arm away, “What?”

“Geo is good to you, right?”

You furrow your brows, “Why would you even ask something like that? Yeah, he’s fine. We’re fine.”

He nods, “okay.”

You get out, slamming the door shut before you walk up to the door. You push your door open and glance back, watching Sam leave your driveway.

Why would Sam ask me something like that?

You shake away the thought and take a deep breath, thinking about how, yeah, he’s good to you. But, sometimes he can raise his voice at you, or he can throw his dinner plate when he gets a bad phone call and you’re the one stuck cleaning up the broken shards of glass.

Or to where you’re silently crying in the bathroom because he comes home and ignores you like you aren’t even there, and then have to pull it together when he’s ready for bed and wants you.

But the good, outweighs the bad.. right?

You’re snapped from your thoughts as your phone rings. You take it out of your bag and answer, “Hey baby. Sam just dropped me off.”

“He texted me. Just wanted to make sure, I should be home by eight tonight, hopefully no later. This deal is on the verge of going through so.” Geo sighs, “I’ll tell you about it tonight. Have dinner ready by seven thirty, Sam, Colby, and Maurice are coming over to celebrate so make sure you set three extra places.”

“Sounds good. Anything in particular you want, baby?”

“Whatever, just make it good. I gotta go. Love you, baby.”

“I love you.”

The line beeps and you take a deep breath as you check the time.

04:36pm

You set your stuff down and walk to the kitchen, getting out the good plates and taking them to the table, along with the matching silverware.

You set out a glass of whiskey and three glasses by Geo’s place at the table, and go to the kitchen to start dinner.

As soon as you set the last dish of food on the table, the door swings open, chatter and laughter following through as Geo and the guys walk in.

“Y/n, this place smells so good.” Colby walks up to you, glancing behind you at the table, “You did good.” He smiles at you and shrugs off his jacket.

Sam doesn’t say a word to you. He just walks over and sits down next to Colby.

Geo walks up to you, “Baby, this is Maurice. He’s agreed to partner with us, do you know what this means?”

You shrug, “No, but I would love for you to tell me.” You smile and Geo slings his arm around your shoulder, pulling you in to kiss your temple, “More money, my love.”

He motions to Maurice, “Maur, this is y/n.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” You smile and shake his hand. He nods, “Please, the pleasure is all mine.” He looks around, “You have a beautiful home, G.”

“Thank you, sir. Please.” He spins around and motions to the chair next to him, “Have a seat, I’ll pour us all a drink.”

Geo sits down and you walk down to your end of the table, sitting there in silence while they talk about the deal.

If you left, you didn’t think anyone would notice, but unbeknownst to you, Sam would be the first to notice.

“Baby, baby.” Geo motions for you and you get up, walking down to his chair. He pulls you onto his lap and shakes his head, “Where would you like to go on vacation?”

“Vacation? Can we do that now?”

“I didn’t ask for you to pick apart the question, y/n.” Geo laughs, “I asked you to pick a place.”

You glance at Sam and he raises his brows. You look back at Geo, “I’ve always wanted to visit Tahiti.”

“Tahiti it is.” He raises his glass, along with the other three and as soon as he downs his drink, you’re nudged off his lap.

You walk back to your chair and sit down to finish your dinner.

After dinner, when it’s all quiet and just the two of you, Geo walks up behind you while you’re doing the dishes, “Did you really have to do that in front of Maurice?”

“I’m sorry.” You glance back at him as you’re rinsing the bubbles off of the glass.

“Why can’t you just answer the questions I ask you with out analyzing everything?”

“I think you’ve had enough to drink, baby.” You swallow because you know that was the flame to the fuse.

“What did you just say?”

You can feel his eyes in the back of your head, “Turn around and look at me.”

You turn the water off and spin around, “I said, I think you’ve had enough to drink, G.”

He smiles, but it wasn’t a regular smile, “You don’t..” he shakes his head while he laughs, “You don’t get to tell me what I’ve had enough of. Alright? Who makes the money in this relationship?”

“You do.”

“Huh? Sorry, couldn’t hear through the mumbling.”

“You do.” You speak up, looking right at him, “You make the money, okay? And I’m sorry that I pick apart each question you ask, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

He nods, finishing his glass before abruptly throwing it against the wall, “Today was a good day.” He shakes his head, “And I’m going to go to bed before it’s tainted anymore.”

You nod, walking up to peck his cheek, “Goodnight.”

You turn to grab a bag and some paper towels before you walk over and start picking up the glass shards.

You glance over your shoulder, seeing him walk away and once you look back at the ground, you feel the tears start to run down your cheeks. You quickly wipe them away on your shoulder and lay the glass on the towel in the bag.

As you’re picking up the shards, a piece scratches the palm of your hand and you wince, watching the blood drip to the floor before you get up and walk to the sink.

You hold it under cool water, letting out a sigh before turning off the water. You fix up your hand and finish cleaning up the glass and turn to walk into the living room.

You stop, instantly hiding your hand behind you when when you see Sam standing outside the sliding glass door.

You walk over, unlocking it and sliding it open, “What do you want?” You whisper, looking up at him, “Geo is upstairs. He went to bed.”

“I’m not here to see him.”

“There’s no one else here so-“

“Would you stop that?” He shakes his head, “You always act like people don’t want to see you, too.”

“They usually don’t. They’re always here for Geo.” You step outside, keeping your hand hid behind you.

Sam furrows his brows and he points, “What’s wrong with your hand?” You shake your head, “Nothing, why?”

“Why are you hiding it?” Sam crosses his arms and you sigh, “I dropped a glass, a piece got my palm while I was putting it into the bag, it’s nothing, Sam.” You look at him, “Is this why you’re here? To check on my hands?”

“No, I’m here to check on you.”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you?” He tilts his head, “I saw the way he treated you at dinner, and I just..”

He stops and you furrow your brows, “You just.. what?”

He shakes his head, “Nothing. You clearly seem fine, so I’m just going to go before he wakes up and has an issue with me.”

“Wait, Sam.”

He holds his hand up as he continues to walk away. You huff, “Fine. Continue to be a fucking asshole.”

He spins around, “That’s all I’ll ever be, right?”

He turns back, leaving you alone on the patio. You stand there for a few seconds, looking up at the sky before Geo coming down the steps catches your attention.

You walk back in and turn around, “Can’t sleep?”

“Come to bed, baby.” He holds his hand out and you swallow, walking over to him to take his hand with yours.

“What happened?” He holds your bandaged hand up and looks at you, and you shake your head, “Nothing.”

“Baby.” He gives you a look and you sigh, “A piece of glass cut my hand, but really. Baby. It’s nothing.” You point to the stairs, “Let’s go to bed.”

You hated how on and off he was, but at the end of the day, you really had no way out of this, no where to go.

You change into your pajamas. Walking over to lay down on the bed, facing away from Geo. He crawls into bed behind you, liquor still heavy on his breath as he presses a kiss to your cheek, “Goodnight, my love.”

“Goodnight.” You stare at the wall, breathing steadily as your mind is too wired to settle down.

All you can think of is why Sam would show up, and then leave like he did.

Did he care about you?

You knew those questions would go unanswered, so you just shoved them to the back of your mind and forced yourself to sleep.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

You stayed home the next day, you didn’t really do much.

You watched a few movies, made lunch for you and Geo, but you ended up eating alone because he never came home. He called, telling you that Lowen had to get called in, so he won’t be home.

You didn’t mind. After last nights escapades, you needed time for yourself.

It was settling in around six o’clock and you heard a car pulling up into the driveway. You ordered dinner, so you expect that to be the car you heard, but everything shifted when the front door slammed open and Geo came walking towards you.

“What the fuck have you been telling people?”

“Wh- nothing, baby. I haven’t talked to anyone.” You shake your head, “What happened?”

Your heart felt like it was about to beat out of your chest, “Geo, baby.” You reach out for him but he slaps your hand away, “One of my employees, told me I was being too hard on you.”

He laughs, “Which is actually fucking bullshit because if I wanted do be hard on you, I’d put you out on your ass.”

“I haven’t said anything, really. I-I don’t know why they would even say something like that.. you treat me the best anyone has.”

“Cut the bullshit.” He stares at you, “If anyone, I mean anyone says anything else to me about you not being treated right, I’ll make sure the lies they’re spreading around become true.” He raises his brows, “You hear me?”

You reach up, pushing your hands into his chest, “You’re scaring me..”

“Good. Maybe you’ll learn to act right.” He steps back, “Pointing to your hand, “Take off that bandage. It looks ridiculous.”

You snap, “Maybe I wouldn’t have cut my hand if you didn’t throw that fucking glass against the wall last night.”

He stares at you, slowly building up laughter, “So it’s my fault you’re clumsy?” He shakes his head, “It’s not my fault you don’t know how to do anything right.”

“Fuck you.” You go to walk towards the steps but he grabs you, slamming you against the wall, “What did you just say?”

“I said, fuck you. I’m done.”

“You’re not going anywhere.” He steps back, “I have to go back to work now, but I’ll be home about seven, seven thirty. If you leave, I’ll find you. Have dinner ready, and we can talk about this, okay?”

You knew what you were doing to do, so you just nod, “Okay.” You lick your lips, “Anything specific?”

He shakes his head, “Make whatever you want.” He pinches your chin, “I’ll be back.”

He walks away, giving you one last look before he closes the door

Instant panic.

Did Sam say something?

You slide down the wall and pull your phone from your pocket. You stare at the screen, unable to think about what to do.

Who do you call? You don’t really have anyone.

You dial Colby, shakily bringing the phone up to your ear as the line rings.

“What’s up?”

“C-Colby.. are you around Geo?”

“No, he left pretty pissed off, I don’t know about what. But, what’s up?”

“I-I-“ you break down into tears, followed by instant word vomit, “He’s mad because he thinks I’m telling people what happened here when I’m n-not..”

“What. Happened?” Colby asks slowly and you gasp for air, “H-he came home, screamed at me, threw me against the wall when I tried to leave and he said that if I left he-“ you lay your hand over your she’s, “Wou-would find me.”

“Are you okay?” Colby asks, “Really, he didn’t do anything else did he?”

“N-no.” You rest your head back against the wall, “I just didn’t know who else to call. Sam I think hates me, and I don’t know the others as well as you. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry, y/n. It’ll be okay. I promise.” Colby’s voice lowers and he speaks quickly, “Gotta go.”

He hangs up and you get a notification on your phone that your food was delivered. You can’t help but laugh through the tears.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Your eyes scan over the food on the table, watching it grow cold over time.

You dial Geo, again. No answer.

You set your phone down, getting up to reheat the food so it’s warm for when he finally comes home, and there’s a knock on the door.

You freeze, as it could be anyone, especially after what happened with Geo.

The knock happens again and you jump into the kitchen, pressing your back against the wall. You bring your phone up, and a text from Sam comes through, Open the door.

Your heart skips a beat and you run to the front door.

A part of you felt like this was a trick, but then another part hopes it was just him.

And it was.

You opened the door, gasping when you see a broken and bruised Sam puffing on a cigarette.

You gasp, “Oh my god, Sam.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know where else to go.”

You shake your head, watching as he flicks the done cigarette, “No, no. Come on.” You teach out, pulling him in, “What.. I don’t.. are you okay?”

He nods, “Minor injuries, y/n. I’m fine.” He goes to take his jacket off and you see a small puncture wound to his side. Your hand flies to it to add pressure, “This isn’t minor, Sam. What the fuck happened.”

He shakes his head and you sigh, “Come on.”

You lead him into the living room and help him sit down, “Don’t move.” You run upstairs to than any medical supplies you can find, and return back to Sam.

“This much hurt.” You tell him as you apply alcohol to a cotton pad, “I’m sorry.” You sit down next to him and he lays his arm over your thighs, his hand tightly gripping your hip as he groans.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I know.” You look down at him and back to his cut forehead, “Can I know what happened?”

He nods, watching as you grab a clean pad and add more alcohol, “I um..” he laughs slightly, wincing in pain, “You don’t have to worry about Geo hurting you anymore.”

You freeze, quickly pulling it together to continue taking care of Sam’s injuries. You don’t say anything, as you move to new cuts and scrapes. Cleaning the dried blood off of his skin.

“I thought you hated me.” You whisper as you apply a bandage to his forehead.

His thumb strokes your thigh, “I never hated you.”

You raise your brows, “Can you.. uh. Take off your shirt please.”

He nods, sitting up and you reach down to help him lift it up over his head, “Thanks.” He whispers, leaning back, “Fuck, now this is starting to hurt.”

“Do you want something?” You go to stand up but Sam stops you, “No, just.. stay here.”

You nod and grab clean gauze to lay over the wound to his side, “I suppose Colby told you?”

“I was right there when you called. I heard it all.” Sam groans lowly as you spray some antiseptic on his wound, “As soon as he walked back through the door, I just.. went at him.” Sam looks up at you, “I’ve always hated that motherfucker.”

“So then.. why keep the job?” You patch up his side and sit back, “You would have flourished somewhere else, right?”

He shrugs, “I mean, yeah, but.. I had my reasons to stay.”

You look down, cleaning up his knuckles, “Can you, um.. what were those reasons?” You look up at him, “I mean, you don’t have to tell me you can just-“

Sam leans in, his hand moving to hold the back of your neck as his lips plant on yours.

You’re taken aback by surprise, you never in a million years pictured this moment happening.

“Sam-“ you lean back and he speaks over you, “I did it all for love. For you.”

“W-wait..” you tilt your head, “Are you saying..”

“I love you. I’ve loved you since the first day I met you. I knew how treated you bad. I stayed to make sure you were okay because I know what kind of spot you were in..” he reaches up, “But you don’t have to worry about that anymore.”

Your eyes move between his and you shake your head, “I think, I love you, too.”

You lean in, closing the space between you two. Your lips move in a slow, heated exchange, and he rests his forehead on yours, “We gotta get out of here.”

You nod, “I know, where will we go?”

Sam smirks, chuckling slightly as he speaks, “Tahiti?”

You laugh, nodding as you lean back, “Yeah, I’ve always wanted to go there.” He runs his hand over your head and sighs, “I know. And I’ll take you.”

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Thank you so much for reading! I love you all so much! I’ll catch you in the next one! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

#samandcolby-ownme #sam Golbach #sam golbach one shot #sam golbach fanfiction #sam golbach fluff #sam Golbach angst #angst #angsty #angst one shot #sam Golbach x reader #sam Golbach x you #sam Golbach x y/n #sam and Colby #sam golbach fanfic #sam Golbach one shots #angsty Sam Golbach

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littlefireball · 10 months ago

Text

ᴊʜ|ᴄᴏʟʟɪᴅᴇ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴅᴇᴘᴛʜ (ᴍ)

ʙᴏʏꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ ᴊᴏɴɢʜᴏ x ɢɪʀʟꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1.9ᴋ

MISS.

Jongho let out a sigh as he glanced at the scoreboard, his score barely reaching double digits. Billiards was proving to be more challenging than he had anticipated…no, normally, he wouldn't struggle this much. Something was definitely off...

"Don't space out, Jjong." Your voice cut through his thoughts, bringing him back to reality. "You're the one who challenged me to this game, remember?" You teased, noticing the blush creeping up his neck as he tried to hide his embarrassment with a smile, avoiding your gaze... or more accurately, your chest.

You were dressed in a simple t-shirt and shorts, nothing revealing, but every time you leaned over the table, your collar would dip, giving him a glimpse of your chest pressing against the fabric.

He remembered how soft it felt.

"It's your turn, Jong." He nodded and made his way to the other side of the table, feeling your eyes on him as he leaned in to take his shot. His tight pants hugged his long legs, showcasing the well-defined muscles of his thighs underneath. That tight feeling was what you loved the most. “Damn…”You couldn't help but bite your lip, memories of riding on them flashing through your mind.

Did he do it on purpose?

This time, Jongho managed to score high, leaving you trailing behind. You looked at the scoreboard in amazement. "Wow, you're really good, Jong." He beamed proudly, looking like a cute baby, seemingly unfazed by any distractions. "I bounced back!"

You chuckled at his words and leaned down again, but this time Jongho stood behind you to avoid seeing your chest and was distracted by─Shit…his eyes couldn’t be taken off from your hips. Wearing short pants was not the best choice, especially when you were leaning on the table, showcasing the beautiful curves of your butt perfectly.

Gosh, maybe he had to close his eyes so he won’t be attracted to you.

Realizing that Jongho was staring at your backside in the mirror, a bad idea that you would regret soon after came to your mind. To end your turn early, you deliberately hit the cue ball. With an evil smirk on your face, you turned around and walked towards him, slightly pulling down your collar.

"It's your turn, babe," you whispered in his ear as you sat on his lap, feeling him grow hard against you. "How can I play if you don't get off me?" he murmured.

"Maybe you can just push me away," you teased, mimicking how Jongho fucked you when you were riding him, causing him to growl deeply. If it weren't for the barrier of your clothes, he would have penetrated your cunt without a second thought.

"You slut," he said, wrapping his arm around your waist and lifting you up, carrying you to the table. "Jjong...!" Your protest was silenced as he held your chin, bringing your faces close enough to feel each other's breath.

"Acting like a brat is funny, isn't it? Want to see the consequences of being a brat?" "Then show me," you replied, sitting up straight and wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, your lips almost touching as you spoke. “Just fuck me.”

Without any warning, he pushed you down to the table and undid the belt. The sound of metal clashing increases your heart rate, filling your mind with anticipation of the moment he enters.

Pulling his panties down enough to free his cocks, he aimed at your entrance before removing your pants and underwear in a quick motion. “Don’t be too loud or people passing by would hear how you moaned out my name crazily.” He pushed in your cunt with a great force, causing you to sit up straight and make a perfect ‘O’ shaped mouth.

“It’s my turn, right?” He grabbed the cue stick and leaned over you, causing his cock to go so deep inside you as if breaking though your limit. Targeting the cue ball and positioning himself, he thrusted in with all his might as he hit the cue ball.

“Oh fuck!!” Your head threw against the table as your back arched in response, feeling his cock twitching inside you as your wall kept squeezing it.

“Moan louder and let people outside know how I fuck the brat out of you.” Before finishing his words, he pumped into your tightness. “Gosh!” Your toes curl and tighten your ass again, pulling him to deeper space. A wave of pleasure flooded your mind, rendering you almost speechless.

“Sucking me in, huh? Such a slut.” Jongho thrust deeply, causing you panting heavily. You couldn’t hear anything but your messy moaning and the sound of skin meeting skin bounced off the walls. Everything was just perfect for you, his cock was buried so deeply inside you, his balls brushing against your clit with each powerful thrust.

Just a few more thrusts, more thrusts, and you could reach the peak.

"Ah~~" you groaned loudly, quickly biting your lip as you realized how loud you were. Jongho smirked at your reaction, his eyes locking with yours in a lustful gaze. "Does it feel good?" he teased, pausing his movements to look at you intently as he knew you were so close. "But I'm not going to let you climax just yet." “Hm?”

Confused and desperate for more, you pleaded with him, your walls squeezing his thick cock. “Please move, jjong~”But Jongho remained still, his focus on the cue ball as if deep in thought. “Shh, stay still, babe.I gotta figure out how I can get a higher score.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist, trying to pull him closer, but he held you tight, teasing you with his control. "Mmm~ baby~" you whimpered, feeling a mix of desire and discomfort. All you wanted was to feel him deep inside you again, to fill the emptiness with his warmth.

As you attempted to sit up and take control, he gripped your shoulder, pinning you against the table. “I understand,” he said, cutting off your pleas before leaning down to focus on the cue ball. “Oh, I missed,” he remarked casually, his movements causing a shiver of anticipation to run through you.

“It’s your turn, babe,” he said with a smirk, pulling out before flipping you over and pressing your breasts against the table's surface, making it hard to catch your breath. Your pants were slid down, exposing your wetness completely. “Please, jjong, I need you...I'll be good, I promise, just please~” you begged, swaying your hips and rubbing against his thighs.

Without hesitation, he slid back into you, pressing his chest against your back and leaving a mark on your nape. The mix of pain and pleasure sent a wave of sensation through you. “Who was being a brat and made me have to punish her? Tell me, y/n,” he demanded, thrusting deeply with each word.

“It was me...I'm sorry,” you confessed, feeling the intensity of his thrusts causing your head to spin with pleasure. “Do you promise to behave, to not be a brat anymore?” he asked, punctuating each question with a forceful thrust.

“Yes, yes, I promise,” you gasped, knowing deep down that the promise might not hold true.

“But how can I trust you?” He thrust into you forcefully, eliciting a high-pitched scream from your lips. "Please, please, Jjong," you begged, almost on the verge of tears. He cupped your face, turning it to see your pleading expression. "Keep quiet or I'll stop, understand? Show me you're a good girl for me." Releasing you, you lay back on the table, your arms draped over the edge. The pressure against your belly left a red mark as his every movement sent waves of pleasure through your body.

You bit your bottom lip, trying to stifle your moans as he continued his relentless thrusts, each one pushing you closer to your limit. His cock battered your deepest spot, his thighs brushing against your skin. The room was filled with the sound of skin slapping, mixed with your heavy breathing. Your senses were overwhelmed by the excitement building in your lower body.

"Your pussy is so tight, my sweet," he praised, delivering a sharp slap to your ass that made it bounce. Another smack intensified the pleasurable pain, almost causing you to lose control. You were on the brink of climax, needing him to fill you completely.

"Jjong..." Your words were abruptly cut off by a ringing phone. Jongho retrieved it from his pocket, 'San hyung' flashing on the screen. "Hello?" he answered, maintaining his rhythm thrusting without missing a beat.

“Jongho, are you still playing billiards?”

“Yah, what’s up?”

“Nothing, me, yunho and wooyoung had lunch nearby and wanted to come over and play billiards.

“Oh yeah, you guys can come over. Y/N is also here by the way.” He looked at you with a smirk, still pushing in and out with a steady pace. “I’ll send you the address and room number then,” He hung up after getting a hum from San, putting back his phone and pulling your hair slightly.

“We gotta finish it quickly or do you want to let them know you’re being a slave of my cock? Hm?" He speeded up to chase his peak, making you shut your eyes tightly.

Tightening around Jongho's cock, your walls pulsed with desire, urging him to delve deeper into your warmth. With each thrust, he pushed you to the brink of ecstasy, hitting your most sensitive spot with unrelenting force.

"I'm so close," Jongho gasped, his grip on your shoulder tightening as he felt his climax approaching. "I’m cumming," you whispered, your breath ragged with anticipation. "Please, cum inside me," you pleaded, your voice filled with need.

“Are you sure?” He huffed, his words became choppy because of heavy panting. “Yes, yes, please, fill me.”

With synchronized movements, you both reached the pinnacle of pleasure, the room echoing with a symphony of sighs and curses. Jongho held you close, his release mingling with yours in a moment of pure bliss.

As he withdrew, his gaze lingered on the evidence of your passion, his cum glistening on your hole, even dripping onto your thighs. Gosh, he realized he was addicted not only to your chest and butt but something new.

"Are you okay, babe?" Jongho turned you around, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. You nodded, wrapping your arms around his strong shoulders, basking in the warmth of his breath against your skin.

“Babe, you are dripping.” You wondered why he could cum that much to make you literally so full. “Mhh..gotta clean up.” As you tried to get up, Jongho stopped you with a firm grip on your waist, pulling you closer. “No,no, there is a good way to stop flowing out.”

—---

“Hey, jongho.” San, yunho, and wooyoung came to the room and found you hugging jongho like a koala.

“Hey.”

“Why are you two so clingy?” Wooyoung doubted.

“Nothing, she's just sleepy.”Jongho churkled, holding you firmly. “Am I right? It's a good way to stop the cum flowing out. See, they don't even spot it.”Your face blushed as his cock twitched inside you.

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez smut #ateez x female reader #ateez x y/n #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez oneshot #ateez jongho #jongho smut #choi jongho

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hijackalx · 1 year ago

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FEMALE BG3 COMPANIONS TEASING YOU +18

characters included: karlach, shadowheart, lae’zel

MALE COMPANIONS

SHADOWHEART

she switches between innocent/playful teasing to flirty teasing so fast. one minute she’ll be making a bad joke at your expense and the next she’s whispering in your ear about how she can make it up to you

she’s RUTHLESS when it comes to getting you super flustered— your face will be on FIRE and you’ll feel like you’re about to explode but it only encourages her

not shy about teasing you in public either. doesn’t care who sees or hears even a little bit and likes to use it to her advantage to embarrass you lol. some public humiliation, if you will

likes the idea of teasing you in bed but she ends up being too impatient. sometimes she can hold off long enough but it ends up feeling like she’s torturing you both 😹😹 any amount of teasing is relatively short lived

LAE’ZEL

kind of aggressive while teasing— it also feels like it just comes out of nowhere sometimes lol. she finds ways to turn the most bland convos into something suggestive

her teasing usually has a “rivalry” vibe that results in sooo much sexual tension. loves when you push back and give the same energy. it’s like a competition of seeing who can get the biggest reaction out of the other

not shy about it in public but only because she doesn’t understand why it would be considered inappropriate lmao. she’ll unknowingly fluster you by bringing up something you said/did during your flirty banter in front of other people 😭😭

whether or not she teases during sex depends on her mood; you never know what you’re gonna get, she’ll keep you on your toes. has a good sense of self-discipline so she can tease for HOURS without letting up

KARLACH

teases in the most immature ways ever. the type to get you pissed because she won’t stop making fun of you for losing a game/battle lol

likes to get you riled up, she thinks it’s so hot to see that fire in your eyes 🔥 whether it’s through competitive teasing or getting you horny and leaving you unfulfilled 😹. also really likes sneaky, teasing touches— like smacking your ass while you’re bent over

actually pretty reserved when it comes to flirting or teasing in public. sticks to innuendos or more subtle things. she tends to burst out laughing or make herself blush when she can tell everyone else is picking up on it

a tease in bed but won’t admit it. won’t give you what you want while acting totally innocent about it— the type to respond to ‘touch me’ by purposely kissing/touching all the wrong places

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 headcanons #shadowheart #karlach #lae’zel #shadowheart x reader #karlach x reader #lae’zel x reader #my headcanons

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steddieas-shegoes · 4 months ago

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coming in clutch

@starrystevie asked two days ago for someone to write enemies to lovers Steddie on the same hockey team and one of them gives the other his stick from the bench and so I volunteered and yesterday afternoon started writing this and it got to almost 6000 words by this morning. Oops?

This is therapy for me, as a Bruins fan, who is suffering tremendously this season. I can't believe some people live like this all the time. I am so, so sorry. I promise you fixing it with Steddie helps ease the ache a little. It's bitch4bitch, what's not to love?

rated e, minors dni | 5801 words | also on ao3 | cw: mention of injury, hate making out for the drama | tags: modern au, hockey au, enemies to lovers, feelings realization, sorta love confessions, anal fingering, anal sex, handjob, life is a series of connections

🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒

If there’s one thing Eddie Munson knows, it’s that Steve Harrington will steal the show.

With less than two minutes left in the game that will determine if they clinch the wild card spot for the playoffs, it could still go either way. They need a goal to tie it, and the point will be enough to get in, even if they lose in overtime.

The Rangers don’t even get anything if they win this one except a pat on the back, yet they’ve pulled their goalie in hopes of ruining the only chance the Bruins have of getting into the playoffs. If Eddie wasn’t seething with rage about potentially starting his offseason much sooner than expected, he’d respect the hell out of them for it.

How they got into this much of a mess is beyond him…or really it isn’t. It’s well within reach.

He knows from the beginning shit was hitting the fan and then it just…kept hitting the fan.

They started bad and they don’t play well from behind in games, so how could they catch up when their entire season went to shit so early on?

It should never come down to one win, not for them.

But he knows that some of the issues are that Steve was handed this captaincy before he was ready, and Eddie’s done nothing to truly help him. He wears an A, but it’s more for Asshole or Annoyance than Assistant. He knows it, Steve knows it, the team knows it.

It’s making everything harder.

Coach already lit him up a few times over stupid shit this season, things he can’t get away with for much longer. His time will be cut short on this team if he can’t-

The whistle blows and there’s a penalty on Hargrove. Not surprising, but it’s enough to get Eddie out of his own head and focus. There’s barely a minute left and they’re facing a long offseason if they don’t get their shit together.

He won’t see more ice time today. He’s third line right now, a demotion from his usual first line after a string of shitty, stupid penalties. Coach will send the first line back out for the last minute to increase their chances of scoring.

The puck drops and they make the fastest line change they’ve managed the entire game.

Steve’s skating to the puck, eyes on the prize. He’s good at it, despite Eddie hating that he feels constant competition with him. They don’t even play the same position. Eddie’s a defenseman for fuck sake. Steve’s a center. The only competition is what’s made up in his own head.

Steve gets there first, manages to pass it to Sinclair, who passes it to Hagan. It’s beautiful, but it’s not enough.

The puck is cleared out and they have to rush to it to start setting up again.

They don’t have time.

And then Steve tries to shoot it to center ice and his stick breaks. It’s the worst timing. Eddie feels his heart sink in his chest at the realization that this is it. They’re done.

Steve’s skating to the bench, yelling about needing a replacement when he should just get off the ice, let someone else out there. They’re gonna lose anyway.

Eddie throws Steve his own stick. It’s not the right curve, and not the right length. It’s not even the same brand.

But if there’s one thing Eddie can respect about Steve, it’s that he’s a damn good player. He makes shit happen, even when no one else can. He’s been their saving grace this season, arguably the only reason they’ve managed to even have a shot at the wild card spot.

He may hate his guts, and he may be annoyed that he got picked as captain, and he may also find him impossible to be around most of the time, but he can see that he’s one of the best players in the league.

Steve’s never skated harder than in this moment, and Eddie can’t feel his face as Steve sneaks the puck between the legs of Wheeler, winds back, and shoots.

None of their players get to it in time.

It goes in their empty net.

The bench is so loud, Eddie can’t even hear himself think.

They’ve tied it up.

The clock says 24 seconds.

It’s as good as done.

They’ll have overtime, of course, but they squeaked in the playoffs. They get at least four more games.

Steve skates to the bench and hands Eddie his stick, but doesn’t say anything.

That irks Eddie a little.

“Not even a thank you for getting the assist on that one?” Eddie asks because if he’s one thing, it’s a shithead.

“Shut up, Munson. Could’ve scored an empty net from the locker room,” Steve replies with an eyeroll, his smile dropping in annoyance.

A for annoyance, after all.

“With a broken stick?” Eddie pushes because he loves to push and because Steve always pushes back.

It’s their game.

Steve sits on the bench, catches his breath for a moment while the arena celebrates his goal.

“How about a thank you for getting us to the playoffs?” Steve says back.

It’s unlike him to be self-centered like this. It throws Eddie off.

For once, he doesn’t have a damn thing to say.

The goalie gets back in the net and the Rangers finish off the regulation game with their tails tucked between their legs.

Eddie doesn’t get sent back out, but neither does Steve.

Coach leans down to say something in Steve’s ear and he grits his teeth together, jaw clenching painfully.

When they’re about to start overtime, Coach taps his back and tells him to go.

“But it’s first line?” Eddie asks.

“I said go, Munson!” Coach says, leaving no room for argument.

So Eddie goes. He’s not gonna argue with the coach, and he’s damn sure not gonna be the reason there’s a delay in starting.

He skates to the blue line and sees the focus on Steve’s eyes.

This game can end either way to him and he won’t care, but Steve wants this win. He wants the two points, not just one. He wants to say they overcame a shitty game to pull off a win.

He would never admit it, but his effort is for Steve. His speed and hits during the first shift are to give Steve every opportunity to pull off this win.

If Steve wins, they all win.

Eddie should have had that mindset for every game. Maybe they wouldn’t have had to fight for their lives just to get a shot at the playoffs.

It’s not a great shift, but they manage to shut the Rangers down a few times.

Steve is red-faced on the bench, watching the second line move with a fire they were lacking for much of the first 60 minutes. That’s been a pattern this season, something Eddie isn’t sure they’ll get over with this group.

It ends during the third line’s shift.

The Rangers get a breakaway and score.

It’s a loss, but they’ve still won something. They aren’t leaving completely empty-handed.

The walk down the tunnel is interrupted by the broadcast person yelling for Steve to stay back to do the post-game interview and accept third star of the game. It always sucks accepting a star away from home ice, but Steve’s used to it by now.

He’s the guy who comes in clutch. He’s always a star.

Eddie’s only a little jealous over it.

The rest of the team is pretty quiet despite their playoff spot.

Coach stands in the center of the room.

“We got lucky,” he says. His tone is calm, but there’s something hidden beneath it that Eddie can sense is anger. “We won’t get lucky in the first round. Get your shit together before next week or you might as well start scheduling your tropical vacations.”

He leaves the room.

No one says anything as they get undressed. No one speaks when Steve comes in the room and wordlessly undresses. No one utters a word when he’s the first to leave, even though that’s the first time that’s happened in the history of ever.

Eddie follows him.

He should give him space. Now isn’t the time to work him up more.

Now is the time to be a good teammate, a good alternate captain. Behave and follow the rules and be a good example off the ice. Leadership saw something in him to give him the A in the first place, now’s his chance to prove he respects them for it.

“Since when do you walk out without a speech?” Eddie calls after him when they’ve exited the building. This arena is relatively normal, but there’s a lower level of parking just for VIP. He doesn’t see anyone else yet, but that’s not surprising. Their bus is parked a few rows away, doors up to start loading equipment for the haul to the airport.

“Since there isn’t a damn thing I can say to get this team motivated and I’m done trying!” Steve yells back without turning. “If you’d like to try, go right ahead.”

“Doesn’t seem like something a captain would do.”

Steve freezes, turns.

His face is bright red and Eddie knows immediately he pushed too far.

“Maybe you should be the captain if you know so much about what it takes, hm? Maybe instead of passing me your stick to score you could score one once in a fucking while. Maybe,” Steve takes a shaky breath, exhales it right into Eddie’s face. He didn’t even notice how close he was before. “You could start acting like a leader and less like a fuckin’ nuisance.”

Eddie scoffs.

“I’m sorry I helped? Was I supposed to let the opportunity to score go? Would you rather have not tied the game? Do you wish we were going home for the summer instead of just the next few days?”

Steve’s chest is brushing against Eddie’s.

Neither of them showered, so there’s a faint scent of sweat clinging to his nostrils, but Steve must’ve freshened up with deodorant and cologne before getting changed. Cedar and pine overtakes the locker room smell as Eddie’s eyes dart down to Steve’s lips.

“Did you want me to do all the work for you?” Eddie grins.

It’s painful, when their lips crash together. Eddie doesn’t care.

Steve’s mad, he’s loud, and he tastes like victory. It has nothing to do with their game.

“C’mon,” Steve says against his lips, and Eddie isn’t sure exactly what he wants. They’re kissing in public, in a place that could be filled with their teammates any second. Steve’s hands are against his chest, pulling him impossibly closer by his shirt. “More. You want more out of me, take it.”

Eddie’s not always the smartest guy in the room. He’s, like, smart, but sometimes he misses some obvious shit. Unobservant, his uncle calls him.

But he can read people pretty well if he has a second to really see them and he thinks he’s seeing something Steve didn’t mean to show. He knows what Steve’s really asking and he knows he can give that to him.

“No.”

Steve stills. He pulls away, hurt clear on his face before he manages to school his features. It’s eery how quickly he was able to do it.

“Knew you weren’t up for it, anyways,” Steve mutters, but Eddie doesn’t let him walk away.

His grip on Steve’s wrist is tight enough to cut off circulation, tight enough to bruise. Steve doesn’t react at all.

“I’m not taking anything from you. You’re gonna take what you need from me.”

Steve’s brows furrow, and Eddie allows himself a moment— just one— to think that he’s cute like this. If they weren’t teammates, and if Eddie could stand him for more than a few minutes at a time, maybe they could do something.

“What are you talking about?” Steve asks. “I don’t need anything from you.”

“No? Like how you didn’t need my stick to score earlier?”

Steve’s mouth snaps closed, but Eddie doesn’t feel as smug as he normally would. He can hear voices coming and he knows that if they leave here now without something worked out, it’ll be like none of this ever happened.

“When we get back, come to my place,” Eddie orders.

“And if I don’t?”

Eddie laughs.

Steve likes to win. He’s gonna come just to see what his prize will be.

He boards the bus and ignores his half-hard dick in his slacks.

Steve always finds a way into his brain. And now he’s found a way into his bed.

~~~~~

The bus ride is quiet, but most of the guys are busy texting significant others and coming down from the adrenaline of the game. The flight is silent, everyone taking a power nap before they have to get back home. They’ll have a day off tomorrow, but most of these guys are married and have kids, or fiancées who haven’t quite figured out that a day off is needed for recovery, not for filling the calendar with other events.

Steve is far away from Eddie, barely even visible unless Eddie leans into the aisle and squints.

He doesn’t do that more than once, doesn’t wanna draw attention to whatever it is that’s happening between them.

Eddie is the first off the plane, but he walks slow enough to his car that a few teammates catch up and tell him his quick reaction saved their asses. He laughs and thanks them, tells them they’ve got some work to do if they’re gonna win the first round, and gets in his car.

Somehow, Steve’s already at his door when he gets home.

“Eager?” Eddie asks.

“You tell me,” Steve grabs Eddie’s hand and places it over his crotch. He’s already hard.

“Did you touch yourself on the way here?” Eddie feels like he’s been struck by lightning, energy zapping through him at the speed of light. Realizing Steve’s into this is rewiring his brain.

“Obviously,” Steve rolls his eyes.

Eddie unlocks his door and pushes Steve inside. He pushes him down the hall and right onto the bed. He pushes until Steve pushes back.

“I thought I was taking from you,” Steve says as he sits up, taking his shirt off and throwing it to the ground.

“You are. But only when I’m ready to give. I need a second,” Eddie says as he strips his own shirt off. He walks to his bathroom to throw some water on his face and pretend for a second that the sweat dripping down his spine isn’t a ridiculous reaction to Steve.

“It’s been a second!” Steve calls to him.

Eddie smirks at himself in the mirror before heading back to the bed.

“Sorry to keep you waiting. I assume you’ve got something specific in mind?”

Steve eyes him up and down. “Take everything off.”

Eddie does as he says. Steve’s surprise that he didn’t argue is obvious.

“Get lube and condoms.”

Eddie reaches into his bedside drawer and gets out his unopened bottle of lube and the only three condoms he has that may or may not be expired. He doesn’t have time to fuck around much, and most of the time he does, it never gets far enough to need a condom.

His traitorous stomach swoops at the thought of Steve being inside him.

Steve looks at him like he’s starving and Eddie’s a five course meal on a table in front of him, and Eddie likes it. He likes that Steve wants to devour him.

He’s pulled into a bruising kiss, can taste blood on his tongue when he swallows spit that’s just as much Steve’s as his own. Eddie knows if they kiss like this for long enough, Steve will barely have to touch him at all to get him there.

As if reading his mind, Steve’s hand is on his dick, stroking it slow enough to drive him insane. Eddie blushes, but doesn’t let it hold him back from pushing Steve more.

“You gonna take your clothes off or are the lube and condoms just for decoration?”

Any hand is better than his own, but Steve’s hand might be the death of him. He tightens his grip around him, leaning in to bite Eddie’s collarbone.

He’s sensitive there and somehow Steve knows it, and Eddie might die tonight, but he can’t let Steve know he’s making him feel this fucking good. He wants Steve to take what he wants, but he doesn’t wanna give it easily.

“You like this with everyone or am I special?” Steve asks before he licks a stripe up Eddie’s neck.

It’s gross. It’s hot as fuck. Eddie’s lightheaded.

“Just you, sugar. Or should I call you Captain here, too?”

Steve pulls back like he’s been burned.

“I’m not your captain right now.” He’s glaring at Eddie, making him wish he could shrink into the mattress, down through the floor. “I’m Steve. Got it?”

“Got it,” Eddie’s nodding along, but he feels like he’s teetering into uncharted territory, some kind of rough terrain that most people don’t get past the fence to explore.

Steve starts taking and Eddie lets him.

First, it’s rough hands pushing him around until he’s in the position Steve wants him: face down, arms under the pillows, legs spread so Steve can see him.

Then, it’s teasing touches, laughing when Eddie gasps and moans, nipping at his skin after a soft brush of his fingers.

It’s hot and cold, it’s hard and soft, it’s push and pull.

It’s the first time Eddie feels like he understands who Steve is.

The lube is cold as Steve spreads it around his entrance, more teasing, more taking. Eddie doesn’t mind. He’s always loved the build-up as much as the finale.

Steve’s quiet, focused, as he works his fingers into him. He’s meticulous about it, looking for the best reactions.

When Eddie whines into the pillow, spreading his legs further apart to make more room for whatever Steve wants from him, he realizes that this will change everything. He should’ve realized it sooner. He may regret it tomorrow. He may not.

“You ready?” Steve asks.

Eddie feels empty. Steve’s fingers aren’t there anymore, aren’t stretching him and prodding every sensitive part of him. He whimpers pitifully at the loss.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Steve’s cock is pushing against his entrance, and Eddie thinks he was severely mistaken about Steve before.

Because why is Steve being gentle? Why is his hand rubbing Eddie’s spine as he pushes into him slowly? Why are his lips against Eddie’s shoulder, not kissing so much as resting there, his hot breath a comfort that he’s right there paying attention to everything Eddie’s doing?

Why is this the best Eddie’s ever been fucked and why does it feel less like getting fucked and more like making love with every passing moment?

Steve’s big, which Eddie knew already. There’s just a difference between seeing it and feeling it. He fills him up, makes him wonder if he’ll be sore tomorrow.

Kind of hopes he will be.

“Take it,” Eddie mumbles against the pillow.

Steve grabs his hair, strong grip, but gently pulling. “What?”

“Take me.”

Eddie’s not sure where those words come from, but he feels the way Steve responds. His cock twitches inside him, his hands grip his waist harder, and Steve moans against his shoulder.

His own cock is trapped against the sheets, but it’s fine. He’s in no rush. Steve will take what he wants and Eddie will wait. He’ll wait all night if he has to.

He feels good like this, at Steve’s mercy.

He didn’t think he’d be able to relax under him. He thought the fight he always has to assert his own dominance with Steve would carry over here, too.

But it’s easy to let Steve have this.

He knows that Steve needs this just as much as Eddie needs to be used.

“You’re quiet. Everything okay?” Steve whispers against his skin. A check-in to make sure Eddie doesn’t need to stop.

“I’m good. Feels good. Keep going.”

The softness never goes away, but Steve’s moving faster, breathing heavier, putting more weight on Eddie’s back. It’s almost too much, the pressure inside him, surrounding him. The scent of Steve, the scent of both of them mingling together and staining his bedsheets.

He’ll have to wash them tomorrow. He won’t.

“God,” Eddie says as he fists the pillow under his head. “Right there.”

Steve’s nailing his prostate, almost more than he can handle. It feels like when they reach their groove on the ice, like despite their disagreements and different styles of play, they’ve meshed together for this moment to make something happen.

“Yeah? You like letting me have you like this?” Steve asks.

It feels out of place here, but Eddie’s allowing it all. If this is what Steve needs, if this will help, then he’ll let Steve have everything.

“Mhm. C’mon, want you to come,” Eddie begs.

He doesn’t want this to be over, though. He finds it shocking how much he wants Steve to keep fucking into him for hours, finding new positions and ways to make Eddie question his existence. He wishes Steve wasn’t wearing a condom, wishes he could fill him up with his cum, plug him up so he stays filled until morning.

He doesn’t know why he’s thinking these things. He’s never wanted that with anyone, let alone Steve.

Steve’s hand covers the back of his neck, applies just enough pressure that Eddie knows it would be hard to move.

He’s coming before he even realizes the tug in his belly is there, moaning into the pillow as Steve’s hips meet his ass with every thrust. It’s too much, but Eddie’s giving himself.

That’s all this is.

It’s everything now, but tomorrow it’ll be nothing.

And the day after that, when they have team meetings to review tape for their first round matchup, it’ll be even less than nothing. It’ll be like nothing ever happened and Eddie never let Steve fuck him into his mattress. It’ll be back to tolerating each other for their job, and Eddie poking at him until Steve is riled up and the coach is yelling at both of them to get their shit together.

And then when they inevitably lose in the first round, they’ll go all summer without speaking and Eddie may get traded to a team that will put up with his antics.

Eddie sniffles.

“Eddie? Shit.” Steve pulls out, which is wrong and terrible and not at all what he wants. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you? Was it too much?”

“No,” Eddie’s voice is shaking and he feels stupid. How did this happen? How did he get to this point? Over Steve Harrington? “Sorry, I’m okay.”

“You’re clearly not okay.” Steve turns him over so he’s on his back and that makes everything so much worse.

His release is sticky across his stomach and the head of his cock, and he’s flush from his cheeks to his toes. Tears have fallen, leaving tracks down his face.

He doesn’t paint a pretty picture.

“What’s this about?”

“I didn’t expect this,” Eddie admits.

It can’t hurt. Honesty is only a small vulnerability compared to letting a man fuck you.

“Expect what?”

“This. You to be soft and caring. You don’t even fucking like me. I thought you’d be quick, come on my back, and then find a reason to leave,” Eddie says, covering his face with his hands. It sounds even dumber out loud. Jesus.

“The thought did occur to me,” Steve says.

Eddie peeks through his fingers to see Steve smiling with an eyebrow raised.

“What the fuck is happening.”

Steve snorts. “You threw me your stick during the play so I could score the goal that sealed us a shot at the Cup. I’ve been hard for, like, six hours now, dude.”

“Don’t call me dude while you’re staring at my dick!” Eddie argues.

“You annoy the shit out of me,” Steve rolls his eyes. “More than anyone else I’ve ever played with.”

“Okay. My dick’s already soft, you don’t have to talk me down, Steve,” Eddie groans, covering his face again.

Steve pulls his hands away, laces their fingers together, squeezes. Eddie’s stomach flutters.

“But you’re good. And you know you’re good. That’s why you’re as frustrated as I am about how this season’s been. It has fuck all to do with me being captain, and everything to do with nothing going right for us.”

Steve’s right. He’s always right, even though Eddie rarely acknowledges it.

“Does this kind of talk get you off or should I do something for you?” Eddie tries to joke, to push.

But Steve doesn’t push back this time.

He cups Eddie’s jaw and leans in, kisses him soft, so gentle it feels like a whisper of something Eddie’s absolutely terrified to name.

“Let me take a little more,” Steve says against his lips.

He lifts Eddie’s legs and slides back into him, and Eddie moans at the overstimulation. He’s definitely gonna be sore when he wakes up, but he doesn’t mind so much right now.

“That’s it,” Steve groans as he moves in and out, holding Eddie’s legs apart so he can make sure he gets as deep as possible. “Let me have it.”

Eddie’s never come twice like this, without his cock even being touched properly. But here he is, barely even hard again, and cum is leaking onto his stomach as he whimpers his way through another orgasm.

“Fuck, so good.” Steve’s hips stutter as he tenses his hands around Eddie’s thighs. “That’s it, baby. Let me fill you up.”

It’s not real, but for a second Eddie can picture it. He pretends he can feel it inside him, and his cock twitches, but otherwise doesn’t act like it can do anything else tonight.

Steve lets his legs drop as he pulls out, and Eddie winces at the feeling of emptiness it brings.

Eddie closes his eyes, tries to figure out how he’s gonna ask Steve to stay.

“Is it okay if I stick around?” Steve asks before he can think of something.

“Yeah, of course. Shower’s all yours if you want it,” Eddie offers, sounding breathless still. His heart is pounding in his chest and he feels like the world around him is spinning.

“You wanna join?” Steve asks him, seriously.

“Showering together doesn’t seem like a teammate thing to do,” Eddie replies.

“Neither is watching a teammate come twice.”

“Point made.” Eddie groans as he turns on his side, reaching a hand out until he makes contact with skin. He thinks it’s Steve's thigh, but he can’t be sure with his eyes closed. “Go on without me. I can’t feel my legs or my…anything.”

Steve doesn’t get up, and he doesn’t say anything. After at least a minute of silence, Eddie blinks his eyes open to see Steve staring at him.

“Are you gonna be fucking creepy all night? I rescind my permission to stay if you are.”

Steve shakes his head. “No, it’s just. I’ve seen you mostly naked so many times, but I never noticed this scar.”

Steve gently brushes a finger across the scar on Eddie’s abdomen. It’s barely an inch in length, and you can’t even see it unless the light hits it just right.

Eddie looks down at it, at the way Steve’s fingertips graze the outer edges. He doesn’t think about it much anymore, but he remembers when it happened.

“Junior hockey. Kid’s skate got me just as I was falling. My chestie rose up too high and didn’t protect the spot,” Eddie shrugs. It could’ve been a lot worse. He was back on the ice within three days. “Accidents happen.”

Eddie watches Steve’s face morph from curious to confused and then shocked.

“That was you?” Steve asks.

“What do you mean?” Eddie leans up on an elbow, looks back at Steve as if he’s lost his mind.

“I…holy shit. They never told me the player’s name. Just said he was getting stitches in the locker room and would be fine,” Steve is rambling, gesturing wildly and shaking his head. “They wouldn’t let me check on you. I tried as soon as the game was over.”

“I’m still confused.”

“It was my skate. I tripped over a player’s stick as you were falling. I didn’t even realize it actually hit you until I saw the blood on the ice.” Steve scoots down so he’s eye level with the scar and then he does something that changes Eddie’s DNA.

He presses his mouth to the scar, his lips parting just enough for his hot breath to cause goosebumps to break out across Eddie’s skin.

“Why did you give me your stick?” Steve whispers.

Eddie swallows. He feels heavy, weighed down by whatever this is.

“You had a chance. You just needed a stick,” he whispers back.

“Eddie. You would rather lose than help me any other time.” Steve tilts his head to look up at Eddie. “Why did you pass me your stick?”

“I-” Eddie breathes in. “I wanted to do something right. I wanted you to look at me and not see someone failing for once. I wanted to be good enough to wear the A.”

Steve’s forehead drops to his hip, and it takes a moment for Eddie to realize he’s laughing.

“What’s funny about that?” Eddie’s ready to pull away, kind of wants to make Steve leave now that he’s feeling like he’s being made fun of.

“I just cannot believe that you would think you aren’t good enough.” Steve looks back up at him, grinning, eyes shining with amusement. “Who do you think chose you for the A?”

Eddie thinks about it. He always assumed that the coaches just picked the guy with the most NHL experience out of the few options they had. He never thought he’d be A or C material professionally, so he accepted the offer, grateful to be given the chance.

He felt like an idiot for wasting the opportunity this season.

He didn’t produce the way he knows he can, and he let his stupid jealousy of Steve get in the way of everything. It’s not like he wanted the responsibility of being captain. He knows now he probably isn’t cut out for any type of leadership role with the team.

“I thought the coaches?” Eddie frames it as a question because now he isn’t sure.

“They wanted to name Hagan. I suggested you instead.”

Eddie’s breath catches. “You suggested me? Why? You fucking hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” Steve raises a brow and gestures at their current state. “I don’t sleep with people I hate.”

“I thought it was spur of the moment! Like you were so mad at me that the only thing you could do to get it out of your system was fuck me!”

Eddie’s head is spinning.

“I mean, it was spur of the moment. I never had any intentions of acting on anything I felt for you.”

Eddie’s head is going to explode.

“Harrington. You’re really making my head hurt. Like, I have never felt this confused after getting fucked.”

Steve laughs, which doesn’t help anything. It almost makes it worse.

He crawls back up so he’s only inches from kissing Eddie.

“I chose you. They said I had to pick someone who would compliment me on and off the ice and you were the first and only choice I could make. You’re an incredible player and the only defenseman I trust on this fucking roster,” Steve leans his head forward, resting his forehead against Eddie’s. “If I’m annoyed with you, it’s because I’m annoyed at myself. I’m making your job harder by losing the room. I don’t even know how it happened.”

“You haven’t lost the room,” Eddie interrupts, placing his hand on Steve’s hip. “They love you. You’re the hero.”

“I don’t wanna be the only guy who comes through, though. I want everyone to succeed.”

“They will. It’s just not our year. It happens. We started off bad and we never got back on track.”

Steve huffs out a breath. “It’s my job to make it work.”

“It’s everyone’s job to make it work. You can’t do it by yourself. They don’t hand Stanley Cups to a player, they hand them to a team.”

Steve smirks. “They do hand them to a player first, though.”

Eddie smacks him. “Don’t argue with me. I’ve had my brains fucked out of my head.”

They stare at each other, both of them smiling fondly.

It’s such a stark difference to everything they’ve been this whole season. Eddie doesn’t know how to handle the electricity between them. He thought it would fade once they were done, once Steve cleaned up and they got dressed. In the morning, he’d leave, and they’d go back to being a mediocre team and he’d probably end up traded or losing the A.

But now, he’s looking at Steve with something he’s pretty sure is affection, maybe even love. It’s ridiculous, which is why he isn’t gonna say anything.

“So, are we good?” Steve asks.

It’s such a jock thing to say. It throws Eddie off yet again.

“Um. Yeah.” He pulls away slightly, considers turning around and getting under the blankets. “We’re good. Hit the showers or whatever.”

“Can I kiss you again?”

Eddie has got to figure out how to get a read on this guy. Seriously, the whiplash he’s getting from Steve’s words and actions might break his neck.

“You want to?”

“I don’t kiss people I don’t want to kiss.”

“Alright, then.”

It’s so soft, it practically melts what little brain Eddie has left. He’s not sure he’s ever been kissed like this, like he’s precious and like this moment needs to be cherished.

“Are you still gonna be a bitch?” Eddie ruins it.

Or, he thinks he does. But Steve is just smiling at him, amused, like he wants nothing more than Eddie’s attitude.

“Depends on if you’re gonna keep giving me problems.”

“Oh, so this is like a thing for you.”

“What?”

“You like disciplining me. Oh, this will be so fun.”

Steve shakes his head and falls against the pillows. Eddie turns his own head to smile at him.

“You didn’t answer me,” he says after a minute of just watching Steve exist in his bed.

“You answered yourself.”

“You’re irritating.”

“So are you.”

“It’s not a competition.”

“Everything is a competition,” Steve turns his head to look at Eddie, smirking. “And I’m winning.”

“We’ll see about that.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steve harrington x eddie munson #hockey au #modern au #enemies to lovers #love confessions #feelings realization

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fluemsiie · 8 days ago

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time to go [ d. winchester ]

synopsis. dean finds you high at an after game party notes. 800 words, mentions of cheating, getting high, romanticised drugs, being a crappy boyfriend, all charachters are eighteen in their senior year, samjess!! — comments & rbs appreciated. ++ second part coming super soon

“hey, stop it!” you turn around as dean’s grip on your wrist tightens and he pulls you into his chest, “why the fuck are you acting like this?”

you smile, “like what?” a small giggle, a flirty hand on his abs, a sniffle from the cocaine.

“like— i don’t know, a slut.” it’s mean, and something dean’s never called you, but still, it didn’t deter you so completely that you pushed him away, just rolled your eyes. his eyes do a once over. “what is this,” his finger comes up to just below your nose, rubbing the white powder off. “are you on drugs?”

“oh my god, d, you are such a baby! james is selling them for really cheap. just a blowjob.” you take your hand back and blow him a kiss. you feel too good right now to even be remotely affected by anything he says. this is unlike anything you’ve ever felt.

your cheerleading outfit is doing something to every single guy at the party, and they’re not afraid to show it. a few of them are so touchy, you’re pretty sure someone finger’s are in your panties.

your drunk giggle catches dean’s attention from across the room where he’s talking to his brother. “yeah, we’re leaving, grab jess,” sam nods and walks to the bathroom to grab his girlfriend while dean makes his way over to you. you’re technically his girlfriend’s best friend but tate is nowhere to be found right now and he’s sure she’s fine, you’re all he cares about.

“hey, guys, c’mon, leave her alone.” dean winchester, star of the high school basketball team. his word goes in an instant, well, with some groans. the boys let go of you and your pout turns more of them on. dean intertwines your hands together. “yeah, how about ice cream, sweetheart?”

and god, you couldn’t be happier about that.

when all four of you are in the car, and a friend of tate’s informs her you’re gone, dean starts driving to the winchester’s beach house, much closer than any of your homes. jess’s parents have long given up on knowing their daughter’s whereabouts and your parents haven’t seen you since you became a freshman. you’ll be fine.

sam complains in the beginning that he’s in the back but then a quick kiss from his girlfriend shuts him up, which is great because dean wants nothing more than to keep an eye on you. you’re choosing different songs, changing the radio and then sticking your head out of the car window.

at the beach house (thank god your head’s still intact), everyone is stumbling up to the beds. sam and jess take the guest room, you and dean take his room. he’ll probably end up sleeping in the master anyway so he places you down on the bed, fully intending to leave before you catch his wrist. “you’re leavin’?”

“yeah, we need to go to sleep.” and you’re so fucking out of it he’s scared to even look at you right now. dean’s a decent guy, despite what people say. he’ll cheat on tate but he won’t force himself on a girl. there’s a balance to these types of things.

”i don’t want you to leave, d. stay. please?” and god, he tries so hard to resist that damn pout.

“the bed hardly fits me, let alone the both of us—” your uninterest is obvious as you pull him done on top of you with a laugh and he only groans. “god, you’re killing me.” when he situates himself, sliding next to you, close enough that you push yourself into his space. “why’d you take drugs, cheer?” the dumb nickname makes you let out a small laugh but it isn’t much to hide your tears.

yeah, so what if you’re moody when you’re high? “‘s fun. you know that, you did shots off of three girl’s stomach’s today.”

“yeah but i didn’t get high.”

“yeah cause coach has these testy things for you guys! otherwise you would’ve done it. and it’s so good, d,” you bite your bottom lip, already happy again, looking up at him. it’s not enough so you sit up, you hands on his chest as you look into his eyes, “it’s was amazing, and i felt everything the guys were doing, every touch and noise and i also felt nothing at all, i swear—”

yeah, the problem is that he believes you. “i know, i know.” he wraps an arm around your back so you settle down, head under his. he sighs, pulling you closer. “we’ll talk in the morning, okay?”

“mm. i have cheer practice tomorrow.” yeah, he knows. he has a date with a furious tate.

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multiheadcanons · 1 month ago

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I, ALSO, KNOW A GUY

scout: need a guy who is willing to front as a 12 year old boy for your predator sting operation? need a guy who’s gonna bury the bodies from your predator sting operation gone wrong? need a quick meal but you don’t want to get up to use the microwave? need a chore done in ten minutes or less? need a bat and no questions about what it’s gonna be used for? need someone who can be an hourly reminder of the things you’re putting off? scout’s your guy.

soldier: you need a guy who looks intimidating enough to be the “chris hansen” in your predator sting operation? do you also need a guy who will “accidentally” kill a couple predators in your sting operation currently going wrong? need a man who genuinely believes there’s no such thing as a bad idea? need a guy who’s going to turn a bad idea into a good one if it kills him multiple times in the process? do you need someone who is such a good cheater at board games that it won’t matter that you suck? soldier’s your guy.

pyro: do you need legal evidence incinerated to ash to get yourself off in trial? need to get busted out of jail, never mind the kill count? need a comfortable bed and a moment of silence? need a personal bodyguard to stand at the entrance or exit to any room you just don’t feel safe being in alone? need a cuddle buddy? need a personal murderer? need someone who is going to let you do absolutely anything you want to them as long as the mask stays on? need someone to play games with you while you're bored? pyro’s your person!

demo: do you need someone who’s gonna keep you consistently on top of your goals that it almost feels like you’d rather drown in the work than actually do it? you want someone who’s going to physically drag your head above the metaphorical water? need someone who will be an absolute ride or die, literally would rather die than watch you fail? need someone who will lie, cheat, steal, and not feel bad at all about it if he knows that you will be in a better position than you started? demo’s your guy.

heavy: do you need an almost irreversible amount of temporary privilege in the blu base? do you need an unequivocal display of power and violence? do you need someone to get your point in any way possible? you need a guy who is… unrealistically good at putting bones outside of the body? need a good laugh at someone else’s expense? need a guy who can Play The Game? need a guy who can make the worst day seem great? need a guy who will choose to make your worst day worse? heavy’s your guy!

engineer: need some help with your car? need a watch battery replaced? need a step stool? need a guy who’s willing to stand to people twice his size for you? need a guy who’s actually easygoing? need a moment of silence? need a guy who’s got some influence and is willing to use it? need a guy who’s going to help you plan your day? need a guy who won’t crucify you if you don’t stick to the plan? hell, do you need a guy who will help plan your day then help you avoid the responsibilities? dell is your man.

medic: do you happen to need a surgery that your insurance denied coverage for? do you want the CEO shot— do you have additional appendages that you want removed expeditiously? are you missing an appendage and would like it back, regardless of who he took it from? do you need drugs to sell for money? are you willing to split the profit? do you need a man who is willing to put a scalpel to anything that piques his interest? do you need doctor gregory house without the addiction? do you need a man who’s willing to jump, rob, and kidnap someone with you? do you need a man who will invite you to watch as he begins an autopsy on the live body of your nemesis, no anesthesia? medic’s your guy for the low low price of a “please” and “thank you”… and maybe some light glazing of his ego.

sniper: you need a guy who’s happy to look dumber than you in public? need a guy who might actually just be dumber than you? need a getaway driver? need a genuinely funny joke to laugh at? do you need the worst joke in the world to also laugh at? need a man who’s willing to be your duet partner at karaoke night? need a guy who’s willing to be the eyes in the back of your head at the mall? do you need a man who’s willing to call a small child a cunt and a bastard? do you need a man who fully believes pushing people out of the way is an acceptable societal response? need some light repo work done? snipes is your guy!

spy: do you need a good getaway driver? do you need a new identity and the next plane out of the country? do you want to hear the most juicy gossip from both sides of the team? do you need a PI who can find a man based off of a seven year old receipt from a store that doesn’t exist anymore and a yassified artistic rendition done by a toddler? do you need a man who is willing to play into most romantic literary tropes without running from expectation? do you need a metaphorical mess cleaned up? do you need a man who can and is willing to sew mass chaos in a packed building? do you need a man who thinks it’s okay to physically fight a child? do you need a coach to fight said child? spy is your guy, as long as he’s got a clear exit plan himself.

#team fortress 2 #team fortress two #tf2 medic #tf2 heavy #tf2 sniper #tf2 engineer #tf2 pyro #tf2 scout #tf2 spy #tf2 soldier #tf2 demo #tf2 demoman #oh! by the way!#five. :)

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digitaldaydreamm · 2 months ago

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sweet talk (1)

nate jacobs x reader

| summary | the first time nate sets his eyes on you...

warnings: none!

a/n: chapter 1 is here woohoo!!! trying out a new au :) i've actually been wanting to write this for a while so im exciteddd

masterlist

⋆⭒˚.⋆🏈⋆⭒˚.⋆

The afternoon rush is dying down when he walks in.

You don’t notice him at first—you’re too busy wiping down a booth, clearing plates, and forcing a polite smile at a group of college guys who have been lingering too long. They’ve spent an hour making dumb jokes, fishing for your attention, and leaving behind nothing but greasy plates and a lousy tip.

You sigh, shoving the cash into your apron pocket.

And that’s when you feel it. A gaze. Heavy. Unwavering.

You’ve been stared at before—it comes with the job. But this is different. This one sticks to you, presses against your skin like it’s waiting for you to react.

You glance up.

He’s sitting in a booth near the back, one arm stretched across the seat, the other lazily drumming his fingers against the table. His sharp blue eyes lock onto yours, unreadable but oddly amused.

Most people look away when they get caught staring. He doesn’t.

Your stomach does something weird.

You quickly break eye contact, busying yourself with the coffee pot before making your way over to his table.

“Coffee?” you ask, keeping your voice neutral.

His lips twitch, like he’s amused by the way you won’t meet his gaze. “Yeah. Why not?”

You pour, expecting the usual small talk or a simple thanks. But he stays quiet, watching as you set the cup down in front of him.

“You need a menu?”

He shakes his head. “Already know what I want.”

You pull out your notepad, ready to jot it down. “Alright.”

His smirk deepens. “You tell me.”

You blink, caught off guard. “What?”

“You work here. Figure you’d know what’s good.”

You shift your weight slightly. It’s not an uncommon question, but something about the way he asks it feels different—like he’s not just talking about the food.

“The burgers are decent,” you say, keeping it simple.

“Decent, huh?” He acts like he’s thinking it over before nodding. “I’ll take one of those. Medium-rare. Fries on the side.”

“Got it.” You scribble it down and turn to leave.

“And what about you?”

You hesitate, glancing over your shoulder. “What about me?”

“You like working here?”

You frown slightly. “It’s a job."

He hums, not looking convinced, but he lets you go.

You put in his order and move behind the counter, but even as you take care of other tables, you feel it—his gaze, never straying far.

It’s starting to annoy you.

You don’t know what his deal is, but you’re not in the mood for games. So when you go back to drop off his plate, you decide to address it.

“Do you always stare this much, or am I just unlucky?”

He doesn’t look the least bit embarrassed. If anything, he looks entertained.

“I'd say you’re lucky,” he says easily, reaching for a fry.

You huff, crossing your arms. “Uh-huh. And why’s that?”

His smirk widens as he leans forward slightly, resting his forearms on the table before changing the conversation. “You know, I don’t usually come to places like this.”

“Places like this?” You arch a brow. “You mean normal diners where normal people eat?”

“Something like that,” he muses. He picks up his burger but doesn’t take a bite, just turns it over in his hands like he’s still more interested in you. “Figured I’d try something new.”

“Right,” you deadpan. “Because eating a burger in a diner is such a wild experience.”

He laughs, and for some reason, the sound is smooth enough to make your stomach flip.

“Maybe it’s not about the food.”

That catches you off guard. You blink, thrown off for half a second before shaking your head. “Well, enjoy your ‘new experience’ then.”

With that, you turn on your heel and walk away, ignoring the way your skin prickles under his gaze.

You don’t look back.

But for some reason, you already know this won’t be the last time you see him.

#nate jacobs x female reader #nate jacobs fanfiction #nate jacobs euphoria #euphoria nate jacobs #nate x reader #nate jacobs #nate jacobs x reader #nate #euphoria nate #sweet talk

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oldwritingm · 2 years ago

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Creepypasta/MH - Walking With Them

Characters: Clockwork, Nina the Killer, Jeff the Killer, Eyeless Jack, Tim/Masky

Clockwork

She walks pretty slowly

She likes to take her time when walking

Not because she’s admiring her surroundings, no; those don’t really interest her

She’s actually lost in her own thoughts

She’ll be staring at the sky, one hand holding her other wrist behind her, walking languidly, smiling subtly when she thinks of something that pleases her

So if you like quiet, slow, scenic walks, she’s your gal

If you do try to make conversation, she’ll indulge you

She won’t pick up the pace though; now she’s walking slow to prolong the conversation

She likes to think through her answers, only voicing things that she’s chewed on thoroughly before speaking

I like to think that she’s a deep conversationalist like that

Of course, if you want to talk about something more lighthearted, she’s still game

But if you ask her to walk faster, that’s when she’ll shoot you a judging look

She’ll ask why, and if you have a good reason she will pick up the pace

Otherwise she’ll just be like “no” and proceed as if you’d never even asked

Nina the Killer

She is holding your hand. Or your arm. Or even just the hem of your shirt. Period.

Doesn’t matter if you’re just friends or dating, she likes to get touchy with people she likes

It’s just her way of feeling close to you

She’ll cling especially close if it’s cold out

She’ll probably chat idly as you guys walk, unless she’s listening to music

She always offers you an earbud when she does

You can expect 2000s pop, scene, and emo music

She’ll bob her head to the beat sometimes, and her smile will double if you join her

Whether you’re listening to music or not, she has a tendency to let her eyes wander while she walks

If she sees anything that catches her eye, she’ll point it out to you

Sometimes it’s someone’s haircut or outfit, sometimes it’s a squirrel, sometimes it’s a random pebble on the sidewalk… it could be anything

Plain old walking is so boring, she’s just trying to make it more interesting for herself

That being said, she doesn’t really try to walk quickly or anything

She’s usually able to entertain herself enough that she doesn’t feel the need to

But if you’re in a hurry she’ll keep up with whatever pace you set

Otherwise she prefers an average pace

Jeff the Killer

He’s either running or speed walking. No in between

He’s efficient like that; if he has somewhere to be, he’s not wasting time commuting

Murdering people has contributed to this habit

If you can’t keep up, he’ll grab your hand and drag you

Once you get too tired to run any more he just tells you how slow you are

Depending on the situation, he might just abandon you

He probably won’t if you’re close, but again, it really depends

If you ask him to stay with you he will, though he’ll grumble the whole time

Sometimes he does like a little scenic walk

This would be the only time that he deliberately walks “slow”

He’s naturally a fast walker, that’s why I’d say “slow” with heavy air quotes

This is also the only time that he won’t mind going a little slower for you

If you’re joining him on the walk, it’s because he wants you to, and he’s not going to leave you behind

You guys will probably link arms or hold hands, just to make sure you walk at the same speed, of course

Eyeless Jack

Another fast walker

He has long legs, plus he’s often in situations which he needs to get away quick

Unlike Jeff, if you can’t keep up, he’ll offer to give you a piggy back

He’s strong like that 💪 (despite his lanky frame)

Also unlike Jeff, he doesn’t really like scenic walks

He might go with you if you ask him, but he wouldn’t choose to go on his own

Being out in the open just feels risky to him, no matter how remote he is

He’d much rather stick to the indoors, or staying in one spot to hide

This ties back into his fast walking pace

If he needs to get somewhere, he’s getting there ASAP

And if he needs to carry you to keep you with him, so be it

He’s not abandoning you; he really prefers to know where you are

Especially when you’re supposed to be with him

Tim/Masky

Honestly pretty chill when it comes to walking

Unless you have somewhere to be, he’s fine matching your pace

He does have a tendency to get a little out of breath though, so he can’t keep up for very long if you’re running/jogging

Also, he doesn’t really like to be touching

Might talk, might not, depends on his mood

If he’s not feeling talkative, he’ll listen to you rant

He’ll give little signs that he’s listening, but won’t offer much in terms of lengthy responses

If neither of you want to talk, he’s also cool sharing music

He likes your playlist(s), and is weirdly cagey about his own

It’s not that he’s embarrassed about his music taste, he just doesn’t like to share

He also likes to walk in silence though

Especially if you’re somewhere nice and scenic

He’ll be looking around, a rare peaceful expression on his face

He might even try to grab your hand or lock your pinkies

As a walking enjoyer, this brought me great joy to compose :) hope y’all enjoyed it!! Take care honey bunches <33

#creepypasta #creepypasta headcanons #creepypasta x reader #jeff the killer #jeff the killer x reader #clockwork #clockwork x reader #nina the killer #nina the killer x reader #eyeless jack #eyeless jack x reader #tim wright #tim wright x reader #masky #masky x reader #marble hornets x reader

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sharksfrommars · 1 month ago

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I saw like one trans Stanley post, and remembered some random notes app Drabble I had started.

I finished it up (or at least up to the portal incident). I love transmasc Stanley. So much. Probably won’t finish it, unless work is slow and boring. Then it’s a maybe.

mentions drugs, sex work, and typical 60s transphobia. Though overall I think it’s pretty light. Pronouns reflect how Stan thinks of himself, so it starts off with she/her.

Stanley pines had a boys name. Her parents weren’t expecting twins, so when Stanley popped out right after her brother Stanford, their father Filbrick just named both of them Stan. He wasn’t very creative.

And so Lee and Ford were born, the Stan twins. Inseparable. Ford had 6 fingers and was self conscious about it, but Lee would always stick up for him. (“NO ONE MESSES WITH MY BROTHER BUT ME!!”). They didn’t have many friends but they had each other. Two peas in a pod.

Lee was born a girl, but no one could tell. Everyone would always assume that she was a boy, cus she was loud and boisterous. Not that she minded. It felt good to be seen as the toughest kid on the playground, and there’s no way her peers would see her as such if she was a girl. So at the playground she told everyone she was a boy.

Ford asked about it one night. “Lee… why do you always tell people you’re a boy?”

Stanley thought for a moment before answering. “Cus I am a boy?”

“You’re not though? Right? Wait ARE you a boy? You don’t have a penis though? Is that possible?”

“HA! You said penis, Sixer!”

Ford looked annoyed. “Lee, are you a boy or not?”

Stanley was quiet for a long time. Ford was getting a bit worried, when Lee spoke up.

“I think… in my heart I’m a boy.”

“Oh. I guess that makes sense. You’re the manliest kid I know”

And that was that while they were small kids. They would happily play as brothers, and everyone at the playground would just accept it. That was until they started school the next year.

Going though school was hell for the both of them. Ford got picked on for being a nerd, for ‘sucking up’ to the teachers, and most of all for his 6 fingers. And everyone knew Lee was ‘just a tomboy really’, so she got called a Dyke and a lezzie every other day. Each time, the bullies were met by Lee’s feral rage.

Filbrick decided that Ford needed to ‘toughen up’. He decided that he couldn’t have Ford ‘hiding behind his sister all day’. Lee insisted he could protect Ford, but the pines were nothing if not stubborn, and Filbrick refused to budge. So Stanford was forced to join boxing. He hated it. But every day, Lee would ask him to teach her the moves.

Eventually, Lee asked if she could join boxing too. There wasn’t a women’s club, but Lee insisted she could go head to head with any boy. Filbrick and caryn ended up letting her. She wasn’t going to drop it, and besides, she was clearly never going to be particularly feminine.

“She’s our little free spirit, Fil. I think we should encourage her.” Caryn said.

“She ain’t gonna be much of a woman, the way she’s going” he responded.

“Don’t worry about that so much, fil! She’ll be fine! Sometimes I wonder if she shoulda been a boy”

“Yeah. I wonder that too. Every time I gotta buy her a new pair of jeans. I don’t know how she tears them so much.”

And Stanley LOVED boxing. She was good at it too. Managed to take down opponents 3 years older than her. And Stanford was more willing to go when Lee joined too.

—————————

Soon enough they were 13. Their bodies started changing. And suddenly, everyone at school started to notice the opposite gender. Except the stans.

Ford was really more interested in his nerd games and science projects. And Lee only cared about the Stan o war. And also the way the other girls would tuck their hair behind their ears, or might lick their lips, or how much she wanted to see them… “ah shit. I am a lesbian aren’t I?”

Lee kissed a lot of girls. All of them said she would make a great boyfriend. That made her feel rEALLY good. She was charming too. She’d managed to kiss more girls than any single one of the boys. But none of them ever really wanted to date her, they would tell her that they “weren’t like that” or say “it’s kinda creepy though, isn’t it?” It upset Lee more than she let on. She wished she was a boy. Maybe then girls would actually want to date her and not just experiment.

Being a teenager just made Stanley more boyish. She started going by Stan mostly, with only Ford really calling her Lee. She only wore menswear, had her hair cut short and pushed back. She’d look just like any other teenage boy except… well except the body. Puberty was not kind to Stan, she had gotten boobs. Somehow, they were less exciting on her than they were on other girls. But still. When people first met them, they’d assume Stanley was the boy. “It’s cus I’m so much manlier than you, six! Maybe if you got your head out of that nerd book people would actually talk to you.”

This bothered Ford. Actually pretty much everything Stan did irritated Ford these days. It irritated him that they spent all their time together. It bothered him that Stan could talk to girls, could talk to anyone. Sometimes, it felt like Stanley was a better version of himself. Able to interact with the world. More of a man than he was. Ford knew that thinking like that was causing them to drift away. But as they got older, it was getting harder to care.

One night, when they were 16, Stan snuck in through the window in the middle of the night. Ford was still awake, of course, but he really wasn’t happy.

“Lee!” He said, “where were you?!”

Stan shrugged. “Around”

She was actually hooking up with Carla McCorkle, who had asked to keep the whole thing a secret. Ford gave Stan a squinted glare.

“What do you mean, ‘Around’, Lee! It’s 2 in the morning!”

“I meant I was around. It’s non of ya business.” She replied. Ford scoured.

“You weren’t messing around with the girls from school again, were you?” Ford asked. Stan responded with nothing

“LEE!”

“What? Like I said, it’s none of ya business!”

“Lee you can’t keep sneaking out on the middle of the night. It’s reckless! Besides, people might talk!”

Stan shrugged. “It ain’t reckless if I got pepper spray in my back pockets. And what do you care if people talk. They’re gonna talk anyway, might as well give em something interesting to gossip about”

Ford looked at Stan for a long time.

“I don’t want you getting hurt, Lee. You’re my sister.”

Somehow that was the wrong thing to say.

“And that means I just gotta stay in my room and look pretty, yeah? I’ve been gettin’ hurt for the both of us since we were six. I can handle myself.” Stan spat as she walked off.

They didn’t talk any more that night, but Ford couldn’t sleep. He really was worried about Stan. She was nothing like other girls their age. People really did talk a lot about Stan, practically the whole town knew she… wasn’t inclined towards men. Ford wondered whether he should go to the library and find out more. Surely there’d be books on this sort of thing, and he wanted to be there for her.

But the idea of asking the librarians whether they had books on lesbians made Ford shiver. He was enough of a target as he was.

————————————

After the science fair, Ford decided he didn’t have a sister. That’s what he said to her. It turned out that Stanley didn’t care about him or his dreams at all. She’d broken his machine, ruined his chances of going to an actually good college, and worst of all, she didn’t even care! She brought up treasure hunting when he confronted her.

Filbrick heard them fight, and it turned into an argument between him and Stan. It was ugly, bringing up years of resentment on both sides.

Then Filbrick mentioned sending her to Europe to live with his sister. To teach her how to be a “real woman”. To have her marry rich because “that’s the only value you’ll ever bring this family.”

That last one is what sent Stan off the edge. She went cold, fire still burning in her eyes. She went to pack her bags. Ford followed her.

“Lee! What are you doing?”

“Packing”

“Where are you gonna go?”

Stan turned around, angrily.

“What’s it to you, I thought I ‘wasn’t your sister anymore.’”

“Lee this is serious! You can’t make it out there on your own.”

“What would ya have me do, Sixer? Go abroad, get married to some rich fuck who doesn’t care about me at all?”

“I mean, Dad can’t make you get married. And Europe does sound nice. And you’d have our Aunt!”

Stan glared, colder than Ford had ever seen.

“You think I should go.” It wasn’t a question.

“You did break my project, Stanley.” Ford said quietly. “It was a really big opportunity to me. For this family.”

“Fuck you, Ford. All you care about is that stupid project. You were gonna leave me behind, so don’t you start actin’ like you care SO MUCH about family.” She had tears in her eyes now. She pushed Ford. “Well, you can go fuck right off to your fancy college. I’ll make it by myself. I don’t need you! I don’t need ANYONE!”

She shoved past Ford, and made for the front door. Filbrick yelled at her, saying that there wouldn’t be a place for her if she left. She ignored it, storming to her car. She looked back at the window, where Ford was watching from. Like she was looking for something. Anything. But clearly she didn’t find it, because she got into the car and drove away. Ford guessed this would be the last time he saw his sister.

—————————

Stan travelled around a lot, trying all sorts of odd jobs. She wanted to prove herself, to show her stupid dad and stupid brother that she could make it without them. She wanted to show up on their doorstep with a million dollars, just to see the look on their faces. He left New Jersey behind, she was starting her new life now.

That’s how Stan ended up in New York City in 1970. And that was the first time they ever met anyone like them. Turns out, there were all sorts of interesting folk out in the big city. Butches and dykes, trans and androgynous people. All sorts of queers. They’d recognised Stan’s own queerness almost immediately, and took them in as one of their own.

Thats when Stan found themself, where realised that they might not have to live as a woman their whole life. They ended up working as a bouncer for a gay club. Turned out, their boss was the ACTUAL MAFIA, which was more surprising to Stan than he was willing to admit.

Stan had a good run in New York! They learned about DIY hormones, and got a girlfriend. Most people assumed Stan was a man, and they didn’t correct them. They learned tips from a cross dressing friend on how to have a more masculine figure. And they spent the night partying up a storm.

The problem was, Stan didn’t feel like they were proving themself. They were pretty much broke, had nothing to their name. He lay awake at night, missing his mother, missing Ford. He wanted to go back, but he couldn’t. Not until he proved himself. That determination was what doomed him.

Looking back, Stan thought he could have built a good life in New York. He could have built a family, a home. A place to belong.

Instead, he decided to steal 5000 American Dollars collected by the club he worked at, and used it to gamble in Atlantic city.

He figured he would just win big, pay the money back, and no one would notice. And he was going to win. No one ever caught him cheating.

Except for this time. Stan found himself in trouble with the casino. They stole all his money and beat him black and blue. They then chased him out of New Jersey, back into New York City.

He came back to a warrant for his arrest. His own community has turned against him, and wanted nothing to do with him.

“You stole 5000 DOLLARS, Stan! You know how many people we could have helped?!”

“I was gonna pay it back!”

They weren’t hearing it. So Stan drove out of New York, bitter and determined. He guessed he really was on his own.

—————————

The next few years were wild. At some point, Stan had fully just started living as a man. He didn’t even notice it, really. It just seemed easier, even if he didn’t have a way to access the testosterone he was taking back in New York.

Stan went into sales for a while, selling scammy products to impressionable fools. He was good at the selling part, at least. However, most of his products were useless, bad quality junk, that more often than not gave people rashes. That got him kicked out of most of the east coast.

After that, Stan decided to give his hand at amateur pornography. He made quite a bit of money that way in Chicago. His whole thing was that he was “a man with a pussy”. Apparently there was a market for that.? Honestly though, Stan kind of hated doing porn. It sounded like a good idea, but really it was long sticky and uncomfortable days, with creeps leering at him and getting paid to do it. Stan ended up breaking the nose of a big time producer, and got himself blacklisted from the entire industry. In response, Stan stole their money and burned down their set. And now he wasn’t allowed in Illinois.

So he went back to scam products. This time though, they ended up including certain illicit substances that he became familiar with in Chicago. Turned out that drugs were WAY more profitable than double sided spades or edible plastic dinosaurs that you couldn’t eat (they had asbestos). For a short while, Stan was living the high life.

Somehow, whenever his life was going well, Stan would end up at the casino. He bet it all on black, and ended up losing it all. He owed the casino big time, and he couldn’t get more stuff from his supplier without any money.

Luckily(?) for Stan, this casino was a dodgy one, run by the cartel. They saw potential in him, saw how well he could sell product and figured he was desperate enough to do anything for them. He was.

So then Stan was a drug mule, carrying drugs, pugs and other things across the border into the US. He got to see a lot of South America, though he might have killed a llama or two. He learned Spanish and he built up his rank in the cartel. He was a force to be reckoned with. And he did SO much cocaine. Enough cocaine that Stan didn’t remember ‘76 at all.

He ended up serving time in Columbian prison for the llamacide. 25 years. Stan wasn’t doing that, so he rallied together the women in the prison, and they all hatched a plan for hostile takeover. Naturally, it was risky, but that never stopped Stan fucking Pines. He may have lost hearing in one ear, but he did manage to escape.

Stan ended up going back to the cartel. It was stupid, but he they felt like family. He knew they didn’t feel the same, but the boss, Rico, always treated Stan well. At least, as well as you can when you’re a cartel boss. Rico thought Stan had gumption, and wanted to see Stan go in to bigger and better things. So he put Stan in charge of a very important payload. One that had to be dealt with by someone who was loyal, and could be cutthroat. Stan thought he could be that guy.

Stan couldn’t be that guy. He found out what was in the payload. He went back to Rico, having lost the payload in a “massive cavern”. Rico was not amused. He sent Stan to Tijuana, to work in a club to earn back the value that he lost. It wasn’t the sort of work he was used to.

Stripping sucked. Especially when you didn’t get any money from it. Every penny went to Rico, who made Stan do coke with his ‘clients’. Said clients were the worst sort. They made him feel objectified, and he just went along with it. His brain was empty and he dissociated a lot.

Then, he was rescued. A biker gang had come to town, apparently they had beef with Rico’s crew. Stan ended up ‘dancing’ for one of the bikers, a guy named Jimmy snakes. Stan gave him intel, and in return, Snakes took Stan back to the US. It was then that Stan started to realise that he might not be as strictly into women as he thought.

Stan’s relationship with Snakes was explosive, passionate, and very, very gay. It wasn’t like anything Stan had experienced before. He wasn’t really sure of his identity these days, he hadn’t really thought about it since New York. He didn’t really know whether he was a man or a woman, he was too busy spending the last half decade high as a kite and being beaten to a pulp. But his relationship with Jimmy made him question that. They rode together, and shared a bed. Jimmy liked Stan as a man, he made that much clear. And Stan liked that. Stan hadn’t felt close like that to someone for a long time.

So of course, Stan ruined it. It was a heist, they were going to be robbing a bank. Stan and Jimmy made all the plans, and the crew were ready. But Stan noticed something. Something about the layout or the cameras didn’t feel right, so he left. A police officer caught him trying to leave, and he spilled. Everything, all the plans they had, where their base was. Stan wasn’t really sure why he was telling this cop. Maybe it was because Snakes didn’t finish him off last night. Or maybe it was the 10 000 dollars the cops were offering in exchange for information. The gang was arrested by nightfall.

Stan stayed in Nevada for a while. He kept a low profile, by which he meant going back to selling scam products. Truly, his passion in life. That didn’t last long, until the bikers caught him one night. Jimmy spoke to Stan, cold but heartbroken. The beat him up, and shoved him into the trunk of a car.

And Stanley fucking pines chewed his way out, like a maniac, and ran off. That night, Stan slept in his car. He didn’t really have anywhere to go, so he just started drifting. Making money where he could. It was never enough, not really. Stan lived off junk food and broken dreams, as he got banned from states for petty crime. He thought about Ford a lot. He kept a picture of the two of them boxing in his sun visor. He was full of regret, for the science fair and how things turned out. Stan wondered if Ford felt the same.

Stan didn’t regret leaving. He was seen as he wanted to be seen these days, as pathetic as that sight was. At least he was a pathetic man. The idea of being sent off to become some fancy lady and be married off to whoever could stand him was actually terrifying.

He just missed his brother. He missed having someone who had his back. Stan idly wondered how Ford would feel, if he saw him now. Would he get it? Stan liked to think he would. He tried to call Ford sometimes, when he was feeling sad and drunk enough. He never could bring himself to say anything though.

Eventually, Stan managed to afford a shitty motel in New Mexico. Rico had tracked him down, and had given him two months to get Rico 10 000 dollars. There was no way he could do that. He just sat in the motel room, waiting for death to take him.

That was, until he got a knock on the door one day. A postcard, from a little known town called Gravity Falls.

—————————

Ford had fallen through the portal. And Stan was frustrated. Ford had been jumpy and on edge. He didn’t notice Stan’s deeper voice, or that he was binding his chest. He didn’t notice the soft traces of facial hair that grew on his face. No, ford was panicked by something. Or someone. And now he was lost in another dimension. Because Stan couldn’t bear the idea that Ford didn’t want him in his life. Ford had everything he could ever want in these woods.

All Stan knew was he had to get his brother back. Maybe then they could be brothers for real this time. It was all Stan could hope that Ford would be thankful, and would forgive him.

When Stan left the shack after running out of food, the townsfolk mistook Stan for Ford. It was strange. Some part of him felt good, the part of him that was a man. The part of him that was a brother felt horrible though. Stan did what he did best and ran with it. Offered tours through Ford’s house like it was some spooky attraction for money. It was his best scam yet. He faked his death. Only his mother came to the funeral. He became Stanford pines by day. And by night, he would work on the portal.

He reconnected with his mother and brother Shermie. It turned out neither of them had heard anything from Ford for a long while. They seemed very glad to have ‘Ford’ back in their lives. Stan justified getting surgery to himself. It would help him pass better as Stanford, and now he had the money. His life was good, if sad. Every day, he would stare at the portal, willing it to fix itself.

#gravity falls #stanley pines #stanford pines #gravity falls au #trans stan pines #basically what if Stan was transmasc #Half of this is just #Stantics #Stantics from the 70s #Jimmy snakes mentioned???????#Trans Stanley you will always be famous #To me.

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