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#which would be a fucking disaster oh my god
nellectronic · 7 months
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if you saw my previous post no you didn’t. anyway someone please send me stupid funny pictures and/or videos
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arlathen · 1 year
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i see “your parents actually werent around much” and say “that isnt angsty enough and doesnt channel my personal trauma in a way i want”
#cw for addiction and suicide in the following tags my besties <3#both of her parents were definitely addicts. i think her dad was also a musician and like. at first it was drinking#and then it was opiates at parties and then it was heroin.#he died. i think. right around when she met seven. right before. seven never met him. so she was. what they met in 7th grade?#she was 12. and she got into an honest to god fight with her dad and screamed that he was ruining their family.#& he stormed out. and. she doesn't actually know. she was 12 and no one would tell her. all she knows is that she hurt him.#and then he was dead. as an adult she wonders if it was an intentional OD or just he was upset and did too much.#as a kid there was just such a clear line between 'she was hurt and said something cruel and someone she loved got hurt'#i mean of fucking course it has a profound impact on her. but she's pretty reserved because of it. and careful w her words and actions.#(seven is the only person she was ever vulnerable with and that ended badly too innit <3)#anyway her mom is still around. she's a garden variety alcoholic. after what happened to her husband she's tried to quit a few times.#she always relapses. she thinks florrie hates her. she's terrified to reach out or say anything to her.#florrie is afraid to invest in her or really get close because. well. she was close to her dad.#miss ma'am doesn't HAVE any secure attachments. she doesn't HAVE anyone she can be vulnerable with.#she's not going to put any kind of trust in someone who seems to her to be unstable.#which i think is part of her little crush on orion. her life is a mess man she's a little bisexual disaster.#oh also i think she has a sister. i haven't decided older or younger. she's estranged and kind of pissed at florrie.#they were close as teenagers but once golden hour took off florrie prioritized the band a few too many times#and left her sister to deal with their mom. and her sister just kind of went. 'fuck it fuck you all' and fucked off to london.#they text each other happy birthday usually. that's about it.#carly.txt#carly's ocs#oc: florrie#brother you know i'm down bad for an oc when i start writing tag essays.
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devondespresso · 1 month
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Let Me Raise The Bar
T | 3,602 words | Steddie | also on ao3! | Modern AU, Meet Cute, Fluff
This fic is for the @strangerthingswritersguild fic exchange, by @starryeyedjanai and @devondespresso. Thank you to @dreamwatch and @bubblesandink for betaing for me!! <3
dividers by @/thecutestgrotto
edit: oh my god i forgot the keep reading the first time im so sorry guys
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This night is going terribly.
He keeps telling himself he’ll delete all his dating apps for good, but the prospect of being alone forever always has him re-downloading them.
Right now, he’s remembering why he hates them so much.
He hates Tinder, specifically—guys on Tinder only want to fuck. And if that was what he was looking for, that’d be fine, great even!
But he wants a relationship and guys on Tinder will say they want one too and then turn around and leave right after they get what they want.
At least guys on Grindr are upfront about it being just a hookup—no one’s getting their hopes up or feelings hurt when it turns out to be just that.
Tinder guys will take you on a date and pretend to be interested in you as a person and then won't fucking text back after they leave your apartment the next morning. It’s annoying and it’s frustrating and it’s a waste of Steve's fucking time at this point.
And this guy tonight isn't even trying to pretend. He tried to get Steve to blow him in his apartment building garage before they even left for the date and he really should have taken that for the red flag that it was.
But Steve looks good, and he did his hair routine that takes entirely too fucking long for no one to appreciate it.
His date drives him to this hole in the wall restaurant that Steve must have passed a million times on the bus ride to his job without ever noticing.
He thought he might be able to turn things around when they got there—it’s a small Italian place, a real family-owned type vibe to it. He knows before he even orders that the food is going to be some of the best he’s tasted since moving here.
He tries asking the typical first date questions to get to know him, but his date keeps giving him short answers. So he switches to talking about himself a little, but then he realizes his date’s been staring at his mouth the whole time he’s been talking and Steve finally snaps that he isn't getting into his pants.
Steve breathes out a deep sigh as his “date” gets up and goes to the bathroom. Some fucking date this is—they haven't even gotten their fucking food yet. What a disaster.
“Hey,” he hears their waiter—Eddie, his nametag reminds Steve when he looks up—say after a minute of his date being gone. “I hate to be the bearer of super bad news, but I just saw your date slip out the back door, and I don't know if he’s planning on coming back.”
There's a lilt of sympathy in his voice and Steve can't help but snort.
“Of course he did,” Steve says. “Why can't guys just be upfront about what they want? It would save everyone so much time.”
He’s not looking for an answer, but Eddie's mouth twists and he says, “Guys are stupid. I mean, they’d have to be to give up the chance to get to know someone as cute as you.”
Steve can't really muster up a smile at the pity, so he says, “Well, whatever the case, he was my ride home, so I think I need to call a Lyft now. Can you box the food up and bring me the check?” At least he’ll have lunch for tomorrow, which doesn't feel like an adequate consolation prize for how shitty he feels right now.
Eddie shakes his head and says, “There’s no way I’m letting you pay for such a shitty date.” Steve opens his mouth to protest, but Eddie continues, “Tell you what, my shift ends in ten minutes. Why don't I show you how I’d treat you if we went on a date.”
Steve's heart thuds in his chest, a flicker of hope in this incredibly dull evening. “Seriously?” he asks.
Eddie nods. “Think of it as a trial run. See if I rank good enough for a real one.” He winks and Steve finds himself nodding dumbly, still shocked at the rapid turn of events.
“Okay,” Steve says, kind of breathless.
Eddie heads back to finish cleaning up his other tables before he ends his shift, and Steve fills Robin in over text about what happened.
He’s still waiting for a response when Eddie shows back up with two plates of food, setting one in front of Steve and the other where his date sat before sliding into the chair across from him.
He’s wearing a different shirt, Steve realizes. It also looks like he attempted to wrangle his curly hair into something more manageable, maybe sprayed some water on it to smooth it down.
The thought that this guy, this random guy who happened to be his waiter on this horrific night, would put in more effort than his previous date makes Steve's cheeks get hot.
Maybe this night really can turn around.
“Alright, names. Hi, I'm Eddie.” Eddie says, sticking his hand out across the table cartoonishly for a handshake. Steve suppresses a laugh and takes Eddie’s hand with a smile.
“Steve.” He says, and Eddie’s eyes brighten before he takes his hand back.
“So, Steve, what do you do for fun?” Eddie says, leaning forward slightly with vibrant confidence, tone feeling more and more noticeably rehearsed as he goes. “Other than light up the room with that smile, of course.”
Steve huffs a laugh, blushing despite himself.
“You practice that one a lot?”
Eddie shrinks back a little, still smiling even as he messes with the hair on the back of his neck, already starting to ruffle what he’d tried to tame.
“Yeah, it’s uh…”
“It’s sweet.” Steve leans in a little closer himself, trying to match the effort Eddie keeps putting in. “Almost as sweet as the smile you're wearing.”
Eddie flushes pink and lets out a little “Thank you” to cover a nervous laugh—and christ, Steve is already hooked.
Steve hums and grabs his fork to start eating and Eddie mirrors him.
“Thank you for this by the way.” Steve continues, “Tonight's been… ugh, you know.”
“A special kind of shitty?”
“Yeah,” Steve sighs, “So all this is… really nice.”
“I'm glad.” Eddie says, voice soft before he shrugs and continues casually “M’hoping I’ll at least do better than the last guy.”
“Yeah, of course, you haven’t even asked me to blow you yet or anything.”
Eddie turns red and busts out a nervous laugh, looking away immediately. God, he’s so fucking cute.
“Yeah, yeah, I'm not–” Eddie looks back at him, nervous still, but sincere anyway, “That's not exactly my style.”
“You a wine and dine kinda guy?”
Eddie shrugs lightly, then he seems to get an idea, leaning in again with a smile “Actually– ideally, I'm a dine and mine kinda guy.”
A smile takes over Steve’s face that he can’t fully tamp down, a little flustered and a lot amused.
Eddie preens, then continues with a shy smile.
“Though, uh, usually it's more dine and…” Eddie pauses, “Pine. Dine and pine. You know, like pining.”
Steve makes his face relax as he nods and leans back. “Oh, yeah, like the tree.”
Eddie stops and looks at Steve, and soon Steve’s smile breaks out again.
“No, I know what you mean.” He says with a little laugh that Eddie quickly mirrors.
Eddie visibly relaxes, slouching overdramatically to the side with a sigh.
“God, I swear I’m usually good at this sort of thing, words and stories and shit,” He groans, gesturing around almost like he’s talking to himself, “But apparently I meet one pretty boy and suddenly I’ve got screws loose. And they’re all falling out, all across the floor, ‘there they go!’, y’know?”
Steve bites back a snicker and hums a quiet agreement. Eddie notices, though, looks up and sees right to Steve’s amusement, so Steve decides to save them both the embarrassment and move on.
“So your job. You like it here?
“Oh yeah, absolutely,” Eddie says, perking up and gesturing as he starts talking, “The owners are really cool, they were our neighbors– Wayne’s—my uncle’s—neighbors when I first moved in with him, way way back, and they were so chill, loved having people over. Then one time in highschool I mentioned saving up ‘cause I’m trying to make it big with my band, and they offered to give me a job here while we get there.”
“That’s awesome. Your band any good?”
“Depends on who you ask.” Eddie laughs, playing with the food on his plate, “Wayne says we’re pretty good, which is probably the equivalent of moms showing up to their toddler’s dance recitals, but it’s something.”
“Where'd you guys play?”
“The Hideout, a couple blocks down…”
Steve nods.
“Yeah, it’s, uh, pretty fun if you ever wanted to stop by.“
“Sounds like a great second date.”
Eddie blushes, playing with his hair again as he smiles and looks away.
“I’ll probably have to wear earplugs– not because of your band or–”
“No, no, no, you’re good–” Eddie says, almost jumping up to reassure him, “It’s metal, that’s normal– good, even.”
“Oh– good.” Steve says, a bit awkwardly, and looks back down to his food.
Eddie leaves barely a moment of silence before he pulls the conversation back together.
“So what about you? You just a professional bad-Tinder-dater?”
Steve huffs and fiddles with his fork.
“Guidance counselor, actually.”
“Oh damn, really?”
“Yeah, Middle school.”
“Oh god,” Eddie groans playfully, “I can't imagine going back there willingly.”
“Yeah, I mean, it can get pretty rough,” Steve shrugs, “It's good though. Kids start thinking about who they are, I get to try and make that a little less shitty.”
“That’s a tall order.” Eddie laughed into his glass. “I respect it though. Hell, just having a queer adult exist around me would’ve made a lot of it easier.”
“God, yeah. I've got practice, at least, for when they need more than just some guy standing around in an office.” he laughed, pulling out sarcastic air quotes for the next part, “ I ‘babysat’ kids in middle school before I graduated. Bunch of little shits but they were good kids– still are good. They're like four years younger than me though, so they're more like siblings than kids.”
“Yeah, bet they don't take well to ‘kids’.”
“Oh, they hate it.” Steve laughed and Eddie followed with him, “Always hated it, but Dustin put his foot down after highschool. Rob and I call them my ‘twenty-somethings’ now.”
“God, wait, how old are you?” Eddie laughed
“Twenty-six.”
Eddie laughed a little louder, a lively and full laugh that looked enchanting on Eddie.
“You'd love them, they're all–
Steve’s phone buzzes.
Both of them look over to it on the table. Steve moves it to the seat next to him, looked up to Eddie with an apologetic smile.
His phone buzzes again.
And again, and soon Eddie’s eyes flick in that direction, eyebrow quirking with barely-restrained curiosity.
Then Steve’s phone starts ringing, the electric guitars of Hammer To Fall creeping up in volume way too fast for comfort.
“Sorry–” Steve cringes, grabbing his phone and answering the call in a furious whisper, “Robin, are you dying?”
“No, but thank you for confirming that you aren’t.”
“I texted you what happened.”
“Yeah and it was vague as hell! I reserve the right to be a worrywart with this shit.”
“Yeah, I know.” Steve sighs, but can’t really argue with her on it. “This was going well, though–”
“Is.” Eddie chimes in, not trying to be loud enough for the phone to pick it up, just for Steve to hear him clearly.
“Is going well.” Steve smiles.
“Oooo okayyy.” Robin hums and Steve can hear her cheeky smile through the phone.
“Goodbye, Robin.” Steve says, failing a half-assed attempt to cover his amusement.
“Oh wait no, tell him if he tries anything I’ll–”
“M’not doing that.”
“I will though, I’ll go after him–”
“Oh woah you’re breaking up, can’t hear you.” Steve deadpans.
“Steve, I know–”
“Love you, bye–”
“Steeeeve–”
“Don’t pull your hair out.” Steve says and hangs up, coming back to the present to Eddie watching him, thankfully looking amused instead of annoyed.
“Sorry about that.” Steve says.
“No, no, it’s fine.” Eddie leans forward again, propping his head up in one hand, “So… friend?”
“Best friend, has to be to get away with shit like that so easily.”
Eddie snorts.
“What was she calling about?”
“I wasn’t clear that this new date thing was gonna be a good thing.”
Eddie nods civilly.
“She worries,” Steve continues, “Fuckin’ tinder dates, y’know?”
“Uh, not really….” Eddie smiles.
“Good for you. They’re all the same asshole in a different haircut.” Steve says, and Eddie smiles, laughing a little with him before continuing with something calmer, a little more earnest.
“Then why keep going to them?”
Steve shrugs.
“Call me an optimist, I guess.”
Eddie hums noncommittally, like he’s thinking more than he’s sharing, and continues the conversation in a lighter direction.
_
The rest of the date is wonderful. A little less chaotic, especially once they start finally eating their food for real, but what it lacks in eventfulness it makes up for in comfort. They’re not exactly quiet, but Eddie’s energy always comes with a sincerity underneath, like he’s bold and fun because he just is, and not because he’s making himself be.
It’s refreshing. And as the night goes on, it becomes intoxicating.
So when Eddie offers to save him the Lyft fee and just drive Steve home, Steve agrees, just to get a little longer in Eddie’s bubble.
Eddie leads him through the restaurant and out the back into a small parking lot with a handful of cars and one big van, decorated with a clearly hand-painted dragon on the side. Which, of course, ends up being Eddie’s.
“Dustin would love this thing.” Steve says as he hops into the passenger’s seat, not really thinking twice about it as he looks at the interior, eyes lingering on the big fuzzy dice with too many sides hanging from the mirrors.
“So Dustin is…?”
“A Twenty-something.” Steve laughs as he spins the fuzzy dice to see all of its sides. “He’s like my little brother. Loves DnD and science and… all the nerd shit.”
“Nerd shit?”
“Yeah, I mean– it's not my thing but it’s cool. I’ve played with Dustin and them a couple times.”
“Oooo, a bit of a nerd, are we?” Eddie hums in a weird, almost witchy voice.
“Casually.”
“Mmm, but you’re already down the path~~”
“Just drive, dude.” Steve says with a fond eye roll.
“As you wish, your majesty.” Eddie hums in his normal voice, giving Steve a glowing glance before shoving the keys in.
“Alright, I'm about to push your nerd-tolerance to its limits.” Eddie says, pulling out his phone with a grin. He connects it to the car and quickly turns it down before drums and guitar erupt from the speakers, and Steve flinches at the volume.
“Sorry, sorry.” Eddie whispers and turns down the music again.
Steve nods, and after a second of the music playing much more quietly, he finds it much more comfortable. Nice, even. The energy is quick and alive like Eddie is, though the aggressive vocals fit his outward aesthetic more than his borderline goofy demeanor.
“It’s not the music, I promise.” Steve says, saying it casually but meaning it sincerely.
“You’re fine, I get it.” Eddie laughs, a little too cynically for Steve’s liking.
“No, I–” Steve reaches for Eddie’s hand between them, intertwining fingers and bringing both hands up between them, “I’m serious, I like it. My head’s a little sensitive, been hit a few too many times, but it’s nice. It’s bold and very energetic… stuff that I already like about you.”
Eddie blushes hard—a sweet cherry pink—as he slouches, bringing their joined hands closer to his face like he’s trying to hide behind them. Eddie rests his forehead against the back of Steve’s hand and huffs a quiet laugh.
“God, you’re quite the charmer, Stevie.” Eddie says, and Steve finds his face warming too.
“And I’m guessing it’s working?” Steve laughs.
Eddie looks up at him, smiling wide.
“Oh, it’s working very well.” Eddie says, and brings their hands closer to him again to plant a soft kiss onto Steve’s hand.
Steve’s face goes warm again, lights him on fire, and Eddie’s smile turns slightly smug before he looks away.
“Alright,” Eddie says, looking back to the front to drive but not letting go of Steve’s hand. He even reaches his left arm over to change the gears, leaning into how silly he looks to make Steve laugh.
It’s sweet, it's genuine, and it's everything to Steve.
Eddie starts driving, hand still firmly holding onto Steve’s, neither of them willing to let go first. Steve looks at it as Eddie drives, splitting most of his attention between their hands, Eddie’s profile lit up by the colorful city lights, and the road ahead as he navigates Eddie to his apartment.
And if they miss a turn or two because Steve’s tired brain doesn’t want to watch the damn road? Eddie doesn’t mention it.
_
“Alright.” Eddie says, putting the car into park with his left hand again, though far less comically now.
He sits there for a second, quiet like something’s on his mind, so Steve waits.
“Okay, uh,” Eddie starts, looking vaguely down as he wanders through what he wants to say, “I had fun, I’m assuming by how the nights gone that you did, too…”
Steve squeezes Eddie's hand, and Eddie laughs.
“I had a really great time. And I want to do this again, if you want to.” Eddie glances up at Steve for a second before his eyes dart away again. “But I want to be sure you’re… you’re not being an optimist with me. That you want want this, y’know, because you're an amazing guy, Stevie. I don’t know how you keep having such shit luck but believe me when I tell you it's not because of you.”
Eddie looks back up at him again and keeps his gaze there, looking more relaxed now.
“So, uh, I would love to take you out again.” Eddie says, “If you want to.”
If he wants to, as if that's not the most romantic thing Steve’s heard in his life.
Steve almost says that. He also debates kissing him or pulling him into an awkward hug over the center console that he’s sure would be put up with no matter how uncomfortable it’d be. But Steve doesn’t, because Eddie continues before Steve can make a decision.
“What do you want?”
Steve resists the urge to say a cheesy ‘You’ and thinks about it, really thinks so he can put together words that make sense, so he can give Eddie a real answer.
“I want a long relationship. A real one, y’know?”
Eddie nods.
“And I want to get married, someday. I want someone who’ll stay that long, who will love and let me love them, all cheesy and clingy and shit.”
Eddie hums, searching Steve’s face.
“And?”
Steve looks down at the joined hands between them.
“And I’d love if it were you. You’re sweet, so sweet, but you’re also… alive. Everything you do, you’re…” Steve thinks hard for a moment, working out how to phrase it. “It’s like the world doesn’t weigh you down. And you’re so genuine and you’ll come and say what you mean like it’s nothing, and I think every one of the people in my life—my favorite people—would love being around you almost as much as I do.”
Steve looks back up to him, face hot with another intense flush, and tries to smile casually.
“Hate to break it to you, dude, but you’re kinda my perfect man.”
Eddie huffs a breathy laugh, face painted with disbelief and wonder.
“Okay, then. Case closed.”
“Yeah,” Steve hums, with as much fondness as possible. Steve leans in across the center console, bringing a hand up slowly, trying to signal that he’s leaning in for a kiss.
It takes Eddie a second, and Steve gets to watch him look down at Steve’s hand and look at Steve leaning in, gets to see the moment it clicked before Eddie lunges to meet him halfway and then some, making the hand that was supposed to cradle Eddie’s face hold onto the seat beneath him to keep their balance.
Eddie kisses him hard at first, bringing a hand up to card through Steve’s hair, excited and alive. Then Eddie seems to come back to his senses, moving back but taking Steve with him until they’re both leaning over the center again.
Their kiss softens, intensity melting out into fondness, gentle but passionate, warm and Steve wants to melt from it.
Still, Steve’s going home tonight, going to go upstairs to Robin and tell her all about it. He’ll get to have a good night's sleep in a bed that doesn’t need cleaning, and he’ll get to wake up to the idea of something new brewing fresh in his mind.
Steve pulls back gently and Eddie does the same, eyes flicking open one after the other, a smile on Steve’s face and another lighting up Eddie’s.
Steve catches his breath, feeling lighter now than he has in ages, and Eddie opens his mouth to say something again.
“Does this mean I can get your number?”
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theemissuniverse · 2 months
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“WATCH YOURSELF” - DEADPOOL X GRUMPY FEM!READER
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Summary : Despite your love/hate relationship with Deadpool, you won’t tolerate anyone talking bad on him. No matter how annoying he is. (Your power is being lucky, super strength, and you’re great in combat. You have a slow healing ability too. Yes I know being Lucky is Dominos thing. Shush.)
Warnings : none? Besides well, he’s Deadpool
You were beyond annoyed when you were pulled into this disaster of an adventure with one of the most annoying people on the planet but after Wade had explained to you why he dragged you in, your animosity started to die down.
While Wade, who you always referred to as “Deadpool”, liked you, admired you, and even flirted with you, you always made it clear that he irritated you. That all his quips, lines, and forth wall breaking were all getting at your wits end.
Throughout time, he had actually started to grow on you a little and you were even starting to tolerate him. He wasn’t bad. At least not as bad as you thought he was.
You weren’t the only person he dragged, he dragged Wolverine into the party and now it was up to you three to save yours and Wade’s timeline.
What Logan didn’t know was that he wasn’t getting anything out of this. At least you weren’t exactly sure but Wade told you to keep in under wraps and well, you did.
It’s just Wade didn’t seem to remember it.
The three of you were in the car with Logan driving and Wade in the passenger seat. You were in the backseat.
Wade groaned in agony as Logan’s claws dug into his thigh. “I didn’t lie! I made an educated wish!”
The statement made you look at Wade like he was an idiot and you shook your head at how ridiculous he could be.
Logan looked at him the same but only more heated. “Did you say you made an educated…fucking…wish?”
The tension wasn’t dying at all and you rubbed your temple in annoyance as Wade just kept on talking. So much so that it pissed Logan off. “You know what you’re a fucking joke.” He said to him, putting his fist down from the air. “No wonder the avengers didn’t take you or the X-Men, or hell fucking anyone.”
You knew Logan was harsh and you knew a lot of things didn’t get to Wade but you know that was going to. Logan wasn’t done though. He kept going. “I mean you are ridiculous, immature, half witt moron. I have never met a sadder, more attention starved, jabbering little prick in my entire life and that says a lot because I’ve been alive for more than two hundred fucking years, and I’ll tell you that bald chick was right about one thing.”
“You will never save the world. You couldn’t even save a relationship with a goddamn stripper! And motherfucker I wish you could say you die alone but it’s one of god’s best jokes that you can’t die, except it’s on all of us!”
Your eyes widen at everything Logan said. You turned to see Wade’s reaction, expecting a snippy comment but none comes out. He’s silent.
You can’t really see his facial expressions because of the mask but with his head down, you could tell that he was upset. By everything Wolverine said.
You’ve known Wade for the longest and even though he could be too much Deadpool, he was still Wade. The same Wade that adored you, the same Wade that had your back. And the same Wade that would never let anyone talk to you like that.
Looking at Logan, you gave him a harsh glare. “I’m going to fight you now.”
Logan laughed while snorting as if he couldn’t believe you would fight him over him insulting Wade. Especially because around him you acted like you couldn’t stand him. He looked in the back seat where you sat at. “Oh are you?”
You immediately punched him in the face which made his nose bleed. You took the seatbelt that was connected to his seat and stabbed him right in the shoulder with the buckle. He groaned in pain. You proceeded to throw him out of the car.
Wade looked at you in shock. You stepped out of the car and walked over to Logan who got up from the ground quickly.
“You don’t want to do this.” Logan said more so as a warning.
“You’re right, I don’t.” You copied Wade’s words from his interaction with Wolverine before and took out your gun that was in pocket. You proceeded to shoot him and the bullets went through his chest.
He held his chest while glaring at you. The bullets started to come out of him and he instinctively charged at you.
With your luck, you moved out of the way and kicked him down. You went to punch him in the face but he pulled you down.
Wolverine took out his claws and tried to get you in the gut but you rolled away from the impact. On the ground, you wrapped both your legs around his neck and flipped him over so he was laying on his back.
You took out your other gun and shot into his stomach where his intestines were and he screamed. You could tell he was getting frustrated that he could barely land a hit because of your luck.
Wade couldn’t believe you were actually fighting Wolverine. His first thought was, why? Did you do it for him? Or because you were genuinely just sick of him? Wade looks at the reader. “I think I should stop this…but she’s so hot when she gets like that.”
Logan finally kicked you off. Your luck was starting to run out. He picked you up by your neck, choking you with his left hand and his claw had went into your stomach. You screamed in agony.
Wade looked back at the fight and now was going to kick his ass. “Alright, here we go.” He steps out of the car. Then reaches for his small knife in his boot. He casually walks over to Logan. “Baby knife.” He says in a small whisper before stabbing it in Logan’s abdomen.
It hurts him but doesn’t seem to make him let you go. Wade punches him in the face which finally makes Logan release you. He gets knocked to the ground.
Wade knows you can handle yourself but it doesn’t make him worry any less. Unlike him, your healing abilities were slow and just because you were lucky didn’t mean you couldn’t die. “You okay, Buffy?”
You shot him a look, rubbing your neck to release the tension you felt from your neck. “Buffy slayed vampires.”
“Tomato, apple.” Deadpool says as if the information you provided really mattered.
You saw Logan get up and it made you stand to your feet. Wade shook his head. “Nah. How bout you take five? I can’t let you have all the fun.”
Immediately, Logan charged into Wade and they flew into the car. You shook your head at the two fighting, deciding to call it quits. Then walked away so you could get some fresh air and your wounds could heal properly.
Something was bugging you. Why did you do that for Wade? He was extremely annoying but yet, it bothered you when you saw him upset. Maybe it was because that was the first time you saw him genuinely upset.
You sat on the big rock, looking at the waterfall. It was nearly night. You just needed to clear your mind without all the men blocking your inner thoughts.
You wouldn’t get much peace though as you heard Wade walking up towards you. You knew it was him because you recognized his footsteps. You still looked at him to confirm.
When you did, you saw his suit all bloodied and even a little tear in the suit itself. But other than that, he looked fine. He was a professional mercenary after all. He could handle himself.
Wade sits on the rock next to you. “I take it back. The Honda Odyssey fucks hard.” He exasperated while rolling his neck slightly.
You didn’t comment. He turned to look at you and noticed the bruise on your neck hadn’t healed yet. “Jesus your powers are shit.” His gloved hand came up to examine your neck more. You allowed him.
Again, with the mask on, you couldn’t really make out the best of facial expressions but you could tell he was worried. “Who knew your luck would run out with Wolvy?”
You chuckled a little at his comment before looking back at the waterfall. “I know right? Didn’t think he’d actually beat me.”
“Nah. He didn’t beat you.” He raised his hand down. Then looked at your shirt that was bloodied.
You looked to where his eyes were looking. Then shook your head. You lifted your shirt up to reveal that the gash that Logan gave you was almost healed. “I’m fine.” You let go of the shirt. “Not everyone’s got super healing powers like you.”
Deadpool nodded at this. “Yeah. I am pretty great.”
You rolled your eyes slightly. The two of you sat in silence for a minute which was strange considering who you were sitting next to. You wondered if he was still hurt about what Logan said.
Far from that. Wade, for the first time, was in deep thought and wasn’t monologuing it. You defended him and usually, he wouldn’t question stuff like that but it wasn’t in your nature to do that, for anyone. You didn’t care for things like that and just did what you called, “minding one’s business.”
You could tell that he was itching to say something and you were questioning why he was taking so long to say it. “Out with it. I can’t take your silence anymore.”
He knew you liked when he rambled even though you didn’t like to admit it. “I’m just wondering, cupcake.”
“Wondering what?”
“Why you decided to fight him? I’m still not getting that.”
The question he asked made you pause. You still didn’t even know why you did it. How were you supposed to answer that?
The deep part of your subconscious knew though. You liked him. You just didn’t want to admit it. “I don’t know.” You said. “He’s annoying.”
“Yeah. Well, I could take that if maybe he did something annoying but-“
“I’m starting to regret letting you talk.”
Wade ignored you and continued. “He was talking to me. Insulting me. And that’s when you fought him.” He spoke out loud putting the puzzle pieces together. And that’s when he gasped.
You looked back at him when he gasped. “What?”
He hit your shoulder playfully. “You like me.”
The way he said it was like he was a third grader on the playground. It annoyed you. Especially because that’s not why. Or at least, that’s what you thought. “What? Are you kidding me? Me? Like you? Are you sure Logan didn’t hit you too hard in the head back there?”
Wade ignored your denial and kept going. “Denial. One of the first huge steps to getting towards acceptance.”
With that, you stood up from the rock and towered over Wade. “Wade, if you don’t shut up, I’m going to kick your ass.”
Wade stood up with you and because he was taller than you, he towered over you. “Go ahead. But you know I’m only gonna get turned on by it right?”
You crossed your arms, glaring at the man child. “Okay? So I fought him because he was talking shit? So what?”
“Not to be on his side but…I did lie.”
“You didn’t lie.” You told him. “You made an educated wish.”
You regretted saying that because the moment you did, you could tell Wade was smiling under his mask. “Oh come on and just kiss me already.” He went to grab at your hips to pull you into one but you pushed him away.
“Ugh. I can’t stand you.” You went to walk away but Deadpool followed right behind you. He took his left hand and interlocked his fingers with your left.
“So where are we going on our first date? I would do all the heavy lifting but you’re kinda a control freak though so…”
You groaned in frustration but allowed Wade to hold your hand.
I guess you were dating him now?
511 notes · View notes
paradiseprincesss · 4 months
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please, please, please | jonathan crane
please please please by sabrina carpenter has been playing in my head nonstop...and the music video? that has jonathan crane and his gf written ALL over it. also i promise I AM WORKING ON REQUESTS i swear.
summary: you warn jonathan not to embarrass you at your dinner party — you know how he is sometimes. thankfully, disasters were avoided during dinner and as a reward, you let him try something new in the bedroom with you that he's been wanting to do.
warnings: smut, p in v, fingering, sex toys (butt plug), anal but only using the toy lol, jonathan kills someone, talk of dead bodies lmfao? mdni 18+ only
word count: 3.9k
masterlist
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"what did you do?!" you whisper yell at jonathan, who was currently staring at you with hearts in his eyes and a sheepish smile.
"i didn't know he was going to react this way, swear it," he says quietly, "i just wanted to see what a concentrated dose would do."
you look at the man slumped over on your apartment couch, seemingly dead. you turn your head to jonathan silently, looking at him incredulously as he kept that sheepish smile plastered on his face.
your boyfriend, doctor jonathan crane, had "accidentally" — that's what he claims — murdered your electrician with a too high dose of his fear toxin. he swore that he had thought some man had broken into your house and he was only trying to protect you; which yes, you found sweet, but there was also the issue of the now dead electrician in your living room.
"i swear baby," he says with his hands up defensively, "i thought he broke in."
"i told you that the electrician was coming by today!"
jonathan laughs awkwardly for a moment, but he pulled you close and gave you a little kiss on the forehead. "i'm sorry darling. don't be mad, please."
you let him pull you close, relaxing into his touch, "jonathan, what are we supposed to do with his body? we have dinner guests coming over in less than two hours."
"i got it," he assures you, "don't worry. i'm sure if i just hide his body in the meantime, nobody will notice."
you groan, wriggling out of his grasp as you leave him to it. you get ready, doing your makeup and hair, before picking out on outfit for your dinner party.
you and jonathan recently moved in together, and though you had been dating for quite some time, he hadn't really met your friends all that much. sure, he'd seen them a handful of times, but you wanted your friends to get to know him better — i mean hey, they had asked to.
honestly, you thought you had good judgement and you thought you had good taste. i mean, you managed to snag a handsome, intelligent, financially stable doctor; what else could a girl ask for? and look — yes, you may of had a small, tiny, little track record of dating mentally unstable, dangerous, and wild men but you swore jonathan was different.
he wasn't unstable, dangerous and wild. no, no, no — he was calculated, precise and a murderer! three totally different traits than what you usually go for.
"look at you, baby," jonathan cooed as he watched you walk into the kitchen, "you're the prettiest, my god."
you blush, shaking your head bashfully as you pull him into a kiss, admiring his every feature. "i love you, jon."
"i love you, too."
"but listen to me," you say softly, trying your hardest to sound menacing, "you're a doctor — so act like one. please don't kill one of our guests or anything."
"only for you, darling." he says with a smile, hands resting on your hips.
the doorbell to your apartment rang, and you made your way to the door with jonathan, hand in hand. "oh, and one more thing," you say quickly reaching to unlock your front door, "i beg you, don't embarrass me, motherfucker."
jonathan holds back a laugh at your not-so-threatening threat as you let your friends in, and the night goes by without a hitch. you don't know where jonathan has hid the dead body in your apartment, but you don't care as long as your guests don't fucking find it.
"it was great getting to see you two again. you guys are so wonderful together. congratulations on the new place, by the way!" your friend tells you as you all wrap up dinner, a few of the other dinner guests still finishing off their wine.
"thank you!" you gush, smiling happily, "we really love it here, right jonathan?"
"yes, darling. it's quite lovely, isn't it?" he replies softly, caressing your hand with his.
"your patio is gorgeous, by the way — great view of the city. we should have a drink out there, it's still early!" another one of your guests suggests, and jonathan shoots you a look.
oh, so that's where he hid the body — on the fucking balcony where anyone could see.
"o-oh!" you stammer, "um, you know, the summer weather is great. wonderful, really — but like, isn't the inside of our brand new apartment just so lovely, too? like look at our new ceiling fan — wow."
your friend looks at you with a confused expression, and she laughs a little awkwardly. "yeah totally, the interior design is so...great."
"yeah, so i have a fun idea," you say rather enthusiastically, to which jonathan has to look away to stop himself from laughing, "maybe let's stay inside? i know your craving some fresh air, but the ceiling fan is so nice."
"darling," jonathan interrupts softly, smiling at you then looking at your friends, "why don't we just schedule a time another day to have drinks all together? i'd love to keep the night going, but i'm afraid i have to work particularly early tomorrow at the asylum."
everyone "ahh'd" in union as they respected what he did for work — he was one of gothams finest, most renown psychiatrists, after all. surprisingly, tonight it was jonathan saving you from slipping up instead of you coming to save him.
as your dinner guests left one by one, you shut the door and locked it as you turn to jonathan with a sweet smile. "thank you for that, i wasn't particularly planning on my friends seeing a dead body out on the balcony tonight."
"relax, baby," jonathan cooed, "i told you i'd handle it, right?"
you look up into your boyfriends beautiful, pale, blue eyes — for someone so notoriously dangerous, he sure was gentle and sweet with you. of course, jonathan did have a soft spot for you and you only.
he would openly admit it, too.
"right, sorry," you whisper as he leans down from his towering height to kiss you, "i trust you."
he hums in satisfaction, then captured your lips in a kiss. his gentle hands roamed across your body, and suddenly, jonathan was pulling you flush against him. through broken kisses and breathless panting, his hand found it's way to your neck. when he gave it a light, experimental squeeze, you moaned into the kiss — he knew this was exactly how to get you going.
"go to the bedroom," he commands softly, "and be ready when i get there, darling."
you look at him inquisitively for a second, but as soon as he raises a brow; you don't ask any questions. he goes into the living room to rummage around for something, and you make your way into your shared bedroom.
you slip out of your evening attire, keeping the lacy, black, intimate lingerie you had underneath on as you patiently wait on the bed for your boyfriend. after a few moments, he returns with something in his hands — a small, dainty, pink gift box with a white ribbon adorned around it.
"i was good for you tonight, right darling?" jonathan asked softly, handing the pink gift box over to you as you start to unravel the bow on top.
"of course you were." you sigh, smiling dopily at him.
he hummed as you opened the box and your eyes went wide, "well, now i want you to be good for me, baby."
inside the dainty, pink, gift box was a butt plug, and on the end of it was a shimmering, baby pink, sparkly gem. "jonathan," you blush profusely, "y-you wanna do...?"
"i just want you to try it out while i fuck you, darling. see how it feels — it's an experiment i've been wanting to try out with you for a while." he says lowly, watching you like a hawk as you took it out of the box.
"i've never done anything...there." you say shyly, and he kisses you gently; of course he'd see sex as a way to experiment.
this was a man of science we're talking about, after all.
"that's alright," he assures you with a quiet chuckle, "i'll guide you through it, okay? you trust me, don't you?"
"yeah," you giggle, "okay — fine, but just this once."
jonathan eyed you down in your black, lacy lingerie as you shuffled around on the bed, bending over as you reached for the lube in the bedside drawer. he had to stop himself from groaning aloud when he saw your already wet cunt soaking through your undergarments — all bent over and needy for his fat cock.
you tossed the bottle of lube over to the side of the bed, crawling over to jonathan as his eyes turned three shades darker at the sight. after you crawled into his lap, he slowly unhooked your very lacy, very see through bralette, slipping it right off your shoulders.
his hands immediately came to paw at your tits as you rested your head on his collarbone, leaning back at the feeling of his strong hands tweaking your perked up nipples.
"jonathan," you breathlessly moan, "please."
"be good for me, baby — be patient." he whispered against your ear, nipping it lightly.
his feather light touch traced down, further and further until he got to your underwear. his fingers hooked into the lace trim, gently and ever so slowly helping you out of the undergarment. you felt your breath hitch lightly as the cold air hit your bare, soaked core, and you leaned further back into jonathan.
jonathan — who by the way, was still fully clothed — swiped two fingers through your dripping folds gently, causing you to jump at the sudden pleasurable feeling. "you're soaked," he noticed, placing a kiss down your neck, "i've barely touched you."
"i-i know," you whimper, "but—"
"i bet you liked it when i said i wanted to experiment on you, hm? did that turn you on, darling? knowing that i'm studying your every reaction to my touch?"
you bit your lip as he spoke, cutting you off as you whimpered under his touch. yes — he was on the dot with his assumptions and observations. sure, you'd never used a butt plug before but hey, if it was with jonathan, you were pretty much down for anything.
"yes," you admitted breathlessly, "fuck, jon."
it was strange — the thought of him studying you during sex in such a...clinical way. it was a major turn on for you, in fact, you didn't know if you'd ever been so turned on before. jonathan proceeded to slowly insert a finger into your drooling hole, causing you to let out a choked moan.
"yeah, you're fucking dripping." he observed, peppering kisses down your neck and shoulders as you relaxed your head onto his. after he fucked you with one finger for no more than a minute, he was suddenly inserting another — it was no issue though, you were so wet that his second finger slipped in without resistance.
you arched your back instinctively, letting out choked, breathless moans as you whimpered his name sweetly. it was like music to jonathan's ears — hearing you fall apart as he carefully, slowly, and precisely turned you into nothing in just mere minutes.
"s-so close!" you squeaked out, and jonathan was suddenly drawing his fingers out of you, causing your jaw to drop and you to turn around to look at him with disbelief.
"i know," he cooed, "now, turn back around and get on all fours. face down, ass up."
you looked at him with surprise, but jonathan was always in control in the bedroom — this wasn't new by any means, but it sure was hot. listening and hanging onto his every word, you do as he asks, getting on all fours as you hear him shuffle around behind you.
with your ass up and your pretty face down, you bite your lip as you hear the pop of the lube bottle cap being opened. you gasp quietly as you feel a foreign, cold, silicone texture poke at your ass — it was almost embarrassing how wet this was making you.
"look at how wet you're getting, and i haven't even put the toy in your ass yet." jonathan chuckled lowly, feeling his cock straining so hard against his pants that he thought the zipper might pop open.
"s-shut up." you try to retaliate, but it comes out more like a broken, desperate plea.
"m'gonna push it in now, okay? not all the way, i promise i'll be gentle — and slow." jonathan says softly, his voice easing your nerves.
though you wished you could see his face, the thought was soon wiped from your mind as you felt the silicone toy being pushed into you, stretching your ass out. thankfully, it wasn't painful. it felt uncomfortable at first, but the more he pushed, the more you got used to the stretch.
"how's it feeling, baby?" jonathan asked lowly, watching your glistening cunt clench around nothing.
"s'okay," you respond, "is it almost all the way in?"
"almost, just a little more to go. you look so good like this, darling. letting me do whatever i want to you, and you just take it like a good girl."
his words made your cheeks burn, and you whine as you felt him give the toy one more gentle push into your ass. it felt good, surprisingly, but it also felt full. you felt full.
"is it hurting?" jonathan asked with concern, and you shook your head no, finally looking behind you as you saw his face.
his cheeks were dusted with a pink colour, and his lips looked plush. he was extremely turned on — that much was obvious with just the way he looked. your eyes trailed down to the tent in his pants; he was so hard it looked like his trousers were about to rip.
"feels really full, though," you giggle softly, "i'm guessing you like the view?"
"god, baby," he groans, "i wish you could see what i'm seeing right now — your ass up with a pretty, pink gemstone in it. all stretched out and waiting for me to fuck your pretty little cunt, hm?"
"mm, y-yeah." you moan as he reaches for your hips, gently turning you onto your back as he pushes you into the soft pillows.
the butt plug still felt a little odd to you as you switched positions, now laying on your back, but it felt good at the same time. as your mind was focused on the feeling of that, you look back up at jonathan to see him desperately trying to undress himself. as controlled and precise as the doctor was — he was a needy mess when it came to you.
"hurry up, doctor crane," you tease, biting your lip as he huffs, clearly affected by your little comment, "i'm so fucking wet—"
"i'm gonna fuck you till you can't think anymore," he interrupted, his voice strained, "you're going to be so full with my cum."
his suit jacket was long gone, and now so was his white button down and tie. his trousers had seemingly disappeared somewhere as well, and his leaking, hard, veiny cock sprung free, hitting his stomach lightly as he took it out.
within seconds, your legs were spread for him. pupils blown wide.m jonathan was positioned between your legs, the tip of his cock rubbing up against your dripping cunt, and you whined when he teased your folds. "how does it feel?" jonathan asks softly, just barely putting the head in, "you feel nice and full, darling? all stretched out?"
"s-so full," you pant, "but i need your cock — so badly."
he smirks to himself; his ego clearly being stroked with the way he had you, his beautiful girlfriend, in bed begging for him and letting him do whatever he pleases to any of your holes.
with a sudden thrust, he slid into you with ease from how slick your cunt was, and you gasped at the feeling of his cock filling you up. jonathan set a moderate pace; not too fast but not too slow, either.
"does it feel good, baby? having both your holes all stuffed?" he asks, fucking into you gently as you struggled to speak.
"y-yes!" you said to him, voice shaky, "feels so good, f-fuck—"
jonathan continued to thrust his thick cock into your tight, wet hole and within seconds, you were cockdrunk. your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you moaned his name over and over, incoherently begging for something. you weren't sure what exactly you were begging for, but as long as you were begging — jonathan was satisfied.
this is how he liked you — fucked out and willing to do anything for him. to be fair, he would do absolutely anything (and i mean anything, including murder), for you too. you were his girl, his everything, what he needed in his life — so naturally, nothing was off the table when it came to what he'd do for you.
but nothing beat the feeling of you submitting to him like this.
"god, you're already close, aren't you, my love?" jonathan asked softly, picking up his pace as his cock brushed up against your walls.
he was right — you were close. the way his thick, veiny cock stretched you open while you were stuffed with a toy in your other hole had you feeling ready to tip over the edge in just seconds. "insatiable," jonathan commented as he plowed into you faster and harder, "that's what you are, darling. look at my needy girl; she needs all over holes filled and stretched, all the fucking time."
his filthy, degrading (but also very hot) comments tipped you over the edge, and before you knew it — you were coming undone all over his cock as he groaned. a plethora of whines and pleas left your lips, but you were so gone from the way he was fucking you stupid, you didn't even realize what was said in that moment.
before you could register what was happening, jonathan pulled out of you quickly. he flipped you onto your stomach, being quite gentle with you, as he grabbed onto your hips, indicating he wanted you to be on all fours again. understanding what he was asking, you did what you knew to do — be face down, ass up.
"jesus," jonathan groans from behind you, giving your ass a light spank, "fuck, look at that."
you whine at the gentle spank he gave you, and his fingers brushed up against your other hole, where the butt plug was sitting. "j-jon," you whined, "please."
you heard him chuckle lowly, his cock brushing up against your folds once more as he slowly split you open on his cock. he was enjoying this far too much — the sight of you with that pink gemstone in your ass and the way your cunt took his cock deeper and deeper with every thrust? it was driving him insane.
"fucking beautiful," he groaned, "h-how'd you manage to get even tighter, baby?"
"f-feels so good, oh m-my god!" you started to scream into the pillows as one of jonathan's hands snaked down and started to rub at your clit.
as you were about to cum from the way he was rubbing your sensitive clit, he removed his hand which caused you to whine. he chuckled softly from behind you, fucking you into the mattress so deep and rough, you were for sure going to be sore for the next week to come.
suddenly, you gasped as your cunt started to flutter around jonathan's length. his hand that was previously on your clit, was now toying with the butt plug, teasingly pushing it in and out gently. he didn't pull it out all the way, but just ever so slightly — just enough so that every time he pushed it back in, you'd feel so full again.
"are you about to cum, baby?" jonathan asked sweetly, "are you about to cum on my cock?"
"f-fuck, yes! yes!" you screamed as jonathan fucked you even faster.
"s-shit, me too," he groaned, "come now, baby — fuuuck!"
as your vision went white and you creamed his cock, jonathan gave you a few more harsh thrusts before he spilled his cum into you. hot ropes of cum covered your walls, filling your hole up completely.
as both of you were coming down from your intense highs, jonathan pulled out after a moment. his cum started to leak from your cunt, and he took two fingers to push it back in — causing you to whine at the sensation.
his demeanour changed the second you two weren't fucking anymore — he was soft, doting, and loving towards you as soon as he cleaned you up. he helped you into his arms, pulling you close as the two of you curled up under the sheets in the crisp, cool, air-conditioned bedroom.
"that was something," jonathan says, being the first one to break the silence, "did you like it? i didn't hurt you, right?"
"no, you didn't hurt me at all, baby," you laughed softly, kissing him on the cheek, "and yeah, it was really ejoyable."
"i see. well, i'm glad you enjoyed it, darling." he smiles at you lovingly, pulling you into a gentle, passionate kiss.
as you wrapped your arms around his neck, you looked up at your devoted boyfriend with the most loving, adorable, and kind look that jonathan had ever seen. "i love you, jonathan. that was fun."
"i love you too, darling," he says, but he pauses before getting up with a sigh, "i'm sorry to cut this moment short, my dear, but i do believe that i have a certain...body to dispose of in a timely manner."
"you and your pillow talk, jonathan. it never seizes to amaze me — last week it was about that patient you terrorized at work and this week, it's the dead electrician on our balcony." you said with a small smile, biting your lip as you teased your deranged, doctor boyfriend.
"well, all i can say is that i'm lucky to have you in my life, my dear." he said softly, looking at you with those gorgeous, pale, icy blue eyes of his. "i truly do love you."
as he turned around to look at you once more time before leaving the bedroom to go deal with the body on the balcony, you smile at him sweetly. he had his bodies on the balcony and you had your skeletons in your closet — you just understood him.
everyone has their ghosts, right? and plus, as long as nobody else knew about the whole scarecrow and murderer thing, then it would be fine. it would aways be fine.
"i truly love you too, jonathan," you said after a moment, and you could've sworn that you saw the scarecrow himself start to blush, "but if you wanna go and be stupid, don't do it in front of me."
he shakes his head on his way out — presumably to dispose of the body in ways you didn't really want to know of. jonathan's voice called out back to you as he made his way to the balcony doors.
"noted, my love!"
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1K notes · View notes
amirasainz · 1 month
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Hi literally get so excited when you update! Can you write one where charles x alexandra x reader where charles and alex are away for an event and forget that it's the reader birthday ans only remember when someone tells them birthday it and they try and make it up to her.
Hi loves. I hope you enjoy this little piece. Let me know what you think. Comments are always apreciated!I'm sorry,but the Sydney Sweeny picture was perfect, so I had to include it😉
Also, question (and please answer me that in the comments), does anyone read what I write before the story? Like the little message here? I'm just curious❤️
Enjoy reading and send me requests!!❤️
-XoXo
The Birthday disaster
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You couldn’t believe it. They weren’t here. They didn’t call, text, or even send you a freaking letter. Your own boyfriend and girlfriend forgot your birthday. And not just any birthday, it was your 21 birthday. Instead of celebrating with Alex, Charles, and all of your friends in a vibrant club, you were sitting on the balcony of your apartment. Despite the cold wind hitting your bare skin mercilessly, thanks to the cute short dress you wore today, you couldn’t bring yourself to walk back inside.
Of course, your friends tried to get you to come out with them to celebrate your birthday properly. But it just hurt too much, and to be honest, your mind was too tired and sad for any kind of festivity.
When Charles and Alex first informed you about the event hosted by one of Alex’s friends, they eagerly asked you to join them. Unfortunately, your job didn’t allow you to tag along, which both of them understood. However, they promised you that they would return today at around 5 o’clock. To be honest, you thought they had something special planned for your birthday. But last night, at around 11 pm, you received a text from Alex, informing you that they would be staying longer in Venice, where the event was held.
At first, you thought this was some kind of joke. Maybe they wanted you to think that they weren’t able to celebrate with you, only to surprise you with a birthday party. But sadly, when you woke up this morning, nothing happened. Throughout the day, there was complete silence between you and them.
Your group of friends, who had been with you a few hours ago to at least celebrate your birthday a little bit, tried to convince you to go out and party with them. Before you could agree, you got a notification from Instagram. You were tagged quite often in a post showing Alex and Charles at the event. They looked so happy and carefree, making you feel even more numb.
Despite their best efforts, your friends left after half an hour, after you reassured them with phrases like “Yes, I will take care of myself,” “Yes, I will call you if I need anything,” and “No, you don’t have to worry about me. I’m completely fine.” They knew you were anything but fine; however, they also knew that you needed to be alone right now.
So here you are, sitting alone in the cold with your only companions being the vodka bottle you brought with you and the relentless wind hitting your skin. “Happy fucking 21st birthday to me, I guess,” you muttered to yourself, staring out at the sea.
“Oh my god, Lisa. You truly outdid yourself,” complimented Alex, her friend. And it was true. The event was filled with beautiful flowers and lights, giving the room a fairy-like appearance. The soft glow of the lights reflected off the petals, creating a magical ambiance that made everyone feel like they had stepped into an enchanted garden. Charles, who stood next to his girlfriend, only brought her closer to him and said, “Yeah, I have to agree. I’m 100% sure YN would have loved it.” “You are so right, love. I wish she was here with us,” agreed Alex, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness.
“Wait, I’m confused. So there is nothing wrong between you guys and YN?” asked Lisa, her brow furrowed in confusion. Alex and Charles shared a look with each other, both of them equally puzzled. “No, why would there be anything wrong with us?” Alex replied, her tone defensive. “Oh, I just thought you had a fight and this is the reason why you are here and not with YN today. But I must have been wrong…” Linda’s voice trailed off, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. She shared a look with her partner Mary, both of them realizing the gravity of the situation.
“Wait, stop. Pause. Why would we be with YN tonight? You invited us to your event and we are here. I don’t get what’s going on right now,” said Alex, her frustration mounting. It felt like Mary and Lisa knew something she and Charles didn’t. Mary, who was now also becoming more annoyed with how the two of them acted before them, didn’t take any nonsense from Alex.
Without hesitation, she looked straight into Alex’s eyes and told her with an ice-cold voice, “Well, we weren’t expecting you to show up today because we thought that you would be busy celebrating YN’s 21 birthday today. But from the looks of it, it seems like you forgot your own girlfriend’s birthday. So don’t talk to us with that rude tone of yours. At least we remember each other’s birthdays.” With that, Mary took Lisa by the hand and left, leaving Alex and Charles standing there in stunned silence.
Alex and Charles were left behind, both staring at the space where the couple used to be a few seconds ago. Both of them felt a wave of guilt and shame wash over them. How could they forget their own girlfriend’s birthday? Turning on their phones, they saw the flood of messages they had received from not only their fans but also their friends, YN’s friends, and their families. Each message was a painful reminder of their oversight.
“We messed up so badly,” muttered Charles, looking at Alex with a pained expression. The woman could only nod, still speechless. Charles took her arm and gently but firmly led her out of the room. “We have to go to her. ASAP,” Alex told Charles, who was already a step ahead of her and had their jackets in hand. With that, the couple left the event, both feeling a deep sense of remorse. How could they forget their girl’s birthday?
As they hurried to their car, Alex’s mind raced with thoughts of how to make it up to YN. She knew it would take more than just an apology to mend the hurt they had caused. Charles, too, was lost in his thoughts, thinking of ways to show YN how much she meant to them. They both knew that they had a lot of making up to do, but they were determined to do whatever it took to make things right.
At around 1 am, the couple finally arrived home. The ride back had been silent, the air in the car feeling oppressively thick, making it hard to breathe. They parked their car in the garage and, without hesitation, jumped out of the vehicle, racing towards the elevator. The few minutes it took to reach their front door felt like an eternity, each second stretching painfully.
When they entered the apartment, everything was shrouded in darkness. A figure sat on the balcony, barely visible in the dim light. Charles immediately sat next to YN, while Alex kneeled in front of her. YN didn’t even look at them before taking a gulp from the nearly empty bottle of vodka. “Hey love, I think you’ve had enough for tonight,” whispered Charles, gently trying to take the bottle away from the now 21-year-old girl.
YN shook her head, her voice trembling as she reminded them, “No. NO, you do not get to tell me what I can and cannot do. Not after you forgot about me.” “Baby, we didn’t forget about you,” Alex tried, her eyes already filling with tears. YN only laughed, her own tears streaming down her face. “No, Alexandra. You do not get to tell me that after you forgot my birthday, and you certainly don’t get to cry.” “Ok, let’s all calm down,” Charles attempted again, his voice soothing but firm.
“No Charles! I don’t want to calm down. You both forgot about me. You two promised me that something like this would never happen to us. You promised me that you would always love me. You promised me that the age gap didn’t bother you when we started dating when I was 19. But look at us. You already broke one of your promises. How can I be sure that you won’t break another one?” With that, YN broke down in tears. Her whole body shook with the force of her sobs, her head held in her hands.
Charles and Alex immediately moved to comfort her. “YN, breath. We are so freaking sorry. I guarantee you, we didn’t mean for something like this to happen. We were all so busy with our jobs and social lives that we didn’t mean to forget something so important,” Charles began, his voice filled with regret.
Alex took YN’s head into her hands, gently wiping away her tears. “We love you more than anything in this world. You are our air and our heart. And we will apologize for the rest of our lives if we have to,” she said, her voice breaking with emotion. YN only whispered, “I love you guys too.” Alex didn't hesitate before kissing her girlfriend. after a moment the they pulled apart.
Charles turned her face towards him, speaking softly, “And we didn’t lie when we told you the age gap didn’t bother us. And we certainly didn’t lie when we promised you that we would always love you, ok?” After YN nodded, Letting Charles also kiss her. This kiss was filled with as much love as Alex, just a bit more urgently but still gentle. After their kiss, the three of them cuddled close to each other, finding solace in their shared warmth.
It would take some time before everything was alright between the three of them again. But for now, sitting together and watching the city lights flicker in the distance was the perfect way to start healing.
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dear-ao3 · 7 months
Text
well good day to all of you. i have a tale. a classified, certified absolute god tier disaster of a tale.
at the ripe hour of 6:45 am i was awoken from my slumber by a Noise. what sort of noise? you might be asking.
the sort of noise that usually accompanies my father getting up at the ass crack of dawn and trying not to turn on the tap loudly so that he doesnt wake us up.
for one blissful moment i thought that i was at home, in my bed, and all was right with the world.
and then i remembered that i live approximately four hours away from my parents and all is not right with the world.
so i did what any person would do. waited for the noise to go away.
but it did not.
so i investigated. in all my bleary eyed glory.
and found that my bathroom ceiling light was pissing.
not just a little either.
a severe, unauthorized amount of water was streaming out of my bathroom light fixture.
so after banging on katyas door and finding a bucket and throwing on a sweatshirt i dragged my tired ass down to the front desk and reported the tea as it were.
now one thing you need to know about our building is that it is old. the second thing you need to know about our building is that the maitenance guys (we call them the boys) are absolutely incredible, like tumblr funny guy posts but irl, however they take for fucking ever to respond to any situation.
this time though, nothing was in clear danger of exploding or lighting on fire. so we made some breakfast. drank some coffee. watched the bucket that we had put in the bathroom fill up with water. and we waited.
and waited.
and waited some more.
then i noticed that if you stepped on some of our kitchen floor tiles they started squelching.
so back downstairs i went and explained the tea as it were once again.
and let it be known, that i worked for two very solid and very miserable years as a resident assistant in college. i know all about the woes of people complaining to you to fix things that you cannot fix and you cannot tell them when it will be fixed because the person who needs to do the fixing is otherwise indisposed. so my general attitude towards this whole situation was "hey man you can't make this better for me and im really not pressed about it as long as someone eventually comes and sorts out my pissing ceiling." which is a great attitude to have in this general situation. and especially so because it was about to get even more strange.
at approximately 9:30am our apartment was graced by the presence of one of the boys. the maintenance man. we will call him james.
we have encountered james before. he delt with our fuse box nearly exploding. that situation was not nearly as chill as this one was.
hes also incredible.
so he comes in and he goes "hey how's it going" and i say "well you know things are just leaking!"
he proceeds to tell us that the fridge in the apartment above us had a connection pipe that froze and exploded some how and that managed to leak all into our apartment. not nearly what i was expecting but hey! at least they know what's going on!
we tell him about the squelching tiles and he says that he will bring us a dehumidifier after he turns off the water and deals with the mess of the fridge above us. we say ok great! this is wonderful!
and he goes to leave the apartment. out of habit i had locked the door when he entered. he goes "aw man did you lock me in?"
and i say
"oh sorry!"
and he pauses.
and he looks at our door in disbelief. perhaps even utter horror.
and this, my lovely audience, is what he was looking at:
Tumblr media
surprisingly. he was not staring at the entertainment for man and horse plaque that katya and i found while thrifting. nay. he was staring at the unfortunate combination of the printed photo of lando norris and max verstappens face.
now why are lando norris and ax verstappen on the back of my door? you might be asking. you might even be asking who they are.
and if youve been following the lore of this blog, you might recognize them as formula 1 drivers. lando norris of course being a mclaren driver and max verstappen being the reigning world champion of team red bull.
and how did they wind up on my door? well at christmas katya thought it would be funny to put a picture of lando norris on top of our christmas tree and so we got one printed at cvs but when you get wallet sized photos printed they print you four of them so we ended up with four of the same photo of lando. one went on the tree, one went to my sister, one is in our bathroom and now one is on the back of our door.
as for max. well. katyas partner drinks red bull and he was on the red bull box so we cut him out and stuck him there. neither of us are particularly big max fans, it was just funny.
but anyway. i digress.
james is standing there staring at this array of perplexing stuff and goes.
"really? him??"
and i go
"yeah..." not knowing what else to say.
and james turns. and he looks at us. and he goes. and i shit you the absolute fuck not.
"now what's wrong with lewis hamilton???"
(sir lewis hamilton being the mercedes f1 driver, 7 time world champion and absolute icon)
and katya and i go
"oh no no! we love lewis hamilton! we just respect him too much to put him on the door!"
which is true
and james goes "now what did you think of him going to ferrari?"
and i say "i thought it was an interesting choice"
and katya says "i was surprised."
and james says "you and me both" and then he shuts the door behind him.
katya and i look at eachother. and we both fall to the floor in fits of laughter.
let it be known that james has come face to face with a giant tapestry of mr worldwide mr 305 pitbull himself that is in our bathroom, on several occasions, and yet, he chooses to comment on our choice of formula 1 driver that is taped to the back of our door.
im still in a state of disbelief. my ceiling is still pissing. my floor is still squelching. and my maintenance man felt the need to call our my choice of formula 1 driver at 9:30 on a saturday morning.
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steveseddie · 7 months
Text
not so fast
rated: t | cw: none apply | word count: 6,219
tags: steve harrington has a crush on eddie munson, accidental kissing, getting together, first kiss, steve is a Disaster in this
click here to read on ao3
***
Steve is running late for work.
And not just a little late either. More like, catastrophically late.
Like, ‘should’ve left his house ten minutes ago to even hope to make it on time’ kind of late.
Why?
There isn’t just one reason for how that happened- it’s been a series of mishaps that started with his alarm not going off this morning and ended with his car refusing to start.
“Because of fucking course!” Steve groans, twisting the key into the ignition a few more times before giving up.
After a string of creative curses and smacking his palms and his forehead against the wheel multiple times in frustration, he leaves his useless car and goes back to the house. As he crosses his driveway, he tries to think of ways to get himself to work.
First, he thinks of Nancy. He knows she’s giving Robin a ride to work today, but she’s probably dropped her off by now, punctual as she is. He has no way to reach her until she goes back home, and he’s pretty sure she mentioned something about hitting the library after dropping Robin off to do research for one of her articles for The Weekly Streak, so asking her for a ride isn’t an option.
Considering Steve’s only other friends are all fourteen-year-olds with no car and no license, he’s out of any other options pretty quickly after that.
If only he had a bike he could use, but the Harringtons got rid of those years ago. He could call Henderson and ask him to ride his bike here so Steve can take it to work. The kid will probably complain, but he owes Steve for the countless rides to the arcade and to Eddie’s trailer for their nerdy campaigns and-
Eddie!
Eddie has a car!
Eddie is Steve’s friend and he has a car!
After that realization hits, Steve rushes to the phone, dialing the number to the Munson’s trailer, which he memorized at some point during the last couple of weeks.
“Please, don’t be asleep. Please, pick up,” Steve mutters as the phone rings, tapping his foot anxiously against the floor. His eyes flick to the digital clock on top of the TV and he groans. God, he’s so late.
“Ugh, hello?” A sleepy voice asks and Steve sighs in relief. Finally, something going his way this morning.
“Eddie! Oh, thank God!”
“Fuck, man, why are you being so loud this early in the fucking morning?” Eddie grumbles, and Steve feels bad for clearly waking him up. Or he would if he had time to feel bad.
“Sorry, sorry, listen, I need a favor, I need you to pick me up and take me to work, my car won’t start and I’m supposed to be at Family Video in- crap, right now actually.”
“Dude-”
“Eddie, please. I have the keys and Robin can’t get in until I get there and she’s going to kill me-”
“Steve, relax, Je-sus!” Eddie interrupts.
“Please,” he repeats, feeling desperate. “If you do this, I’ll do anything you want.”
Eddie hums. “Anything, huh?” He asks in that low voice that always sends shivers down Steve’s spine. Even now, he can feel them, anxious as he is.
God, he really doesn’t have time for this.
“Munson,” Steve hisses.
“Okay, fine, I’ll do it. I’ll be there in ten.”
Steve winces, but he doesn’t say anything. It’s not like he can ask Eddie to disregard speed limits or traffic lights or other cars just so he gets here faster, the last thing he wants is for him to wrap his van around a tree because of him. “Okay, thanks.”
“Sure thing, sweetheart,” Eddie says before hanging up.
Since Steve has ten minutes before he gets here anyway, he gives himself one to get flustered over Eddie calling him that.
Then he uses the remaining nine to make Robin her favorite snack- peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, which she claims taste better when Steve makes them. It’s probably an excuse so Steve makes them for her every time, but right now it works in his favor. She’s going to be pissed when Steve shows up late- he can’t even call the video store to let her know he’s on his way! Not when she’s locked outsid e because Steve has the god-damned keys. He hopes the sandwiches will help soften her up at least.
He’s already in the driveway when Eddie’s van rolls around the corner. As soon as it slows down, he jumps in and tells him to “Go!” without saying even saying hello.
Eddie snorts. “Good morning to you too, Harrington,” he says with an amused half-smile, but he starts driving. Eddie isn’t a slow driver by a long shot, but Steve notices that he still steps on the gas a little harder than he normally would, which he appreciates.
He slumps back onto the passenger seat. “Sorry, hi, thanks for doing this.”
“No problem, man,” Eddie says, taking his eyes off the road for a moment to look Steve up and down. “Looks like you had quite the morning.”
Steve blows out a puff of air, running a hand through his hair. It probably looks like a mess right now because not only did he not have enough time to complete his routine, he’s also been anxiously running his fingers through it all morning. “You have no idea! First, my alarm didn’t go off so I had to rush through my shower and didn’t have enough time to fix my hair, then I couldn’t find my vest, then my car keys, and when I finally found those, my fucking car wouldn’t start!” He drops his hands on his lap with a huff.
“Sheesh, man,” Eddie says, somewhat sympathetically.
“Yeah!” Steve agrees as his hands start flailing again. “And now, Robin is gonna be pissed at me all day for being late, and for leaving her waiting outside the store.”
Eddie reaches over with one hand, squeezing Steve’s shoulder. “I’m sure she’ll forgive you quickly enough, Birdie can’t stay mad at anyone for long.”
“Um, yeah,” Steve stammers out when Eddie’s hand stays there, on his shoulder. “You’re probably right and I brought her PB&J sandwiches to soften her up a bit, so.” He chuckles, a little shakily because Eddie’s fingers are brushing lightly against his neck.
“See?” Eddie asks, giving Steve’s shoulder a little shake. “Give her those and flash those pretty doe eyes of yours at her, and she’ll forget why she was even mad in the first place!”
Steve shoves his hand away- because it should be holding onto the steering wheel, not because having it on him makes his stomach flip-flop.
He clears his throat. “Anyway, how was your morning, Munson?”
“My morning? Well, Harrington, it was just fine, thanks for asking. I was catching up on some lovely much-needed Zs after band practice ran late last night, but then the phone woke me up. Some guy yelling at me to come pick him up.”
Steve makes a face, chuckling softly. “That guy sounds like an asshole.”
“Nah, he’s actually a very sweet guy. Pretty, too.” He tosses a wink at Steve, who flushes pink. “And you know me, I’m so easy for a pretty face. I was already gonna say yes when he promised he’d do anything if I gave him a ride. No way I could refuse.”
“Well, I’m sure the guy is very grateful,” he says, then wrinkles his nose. “And hopeful that you won’t make him regret promising you that.”
Eddie throws his head back with a laugh. “Don’t worry, Stevie, I won’t ask for anything too embarrassing.”
“Ugh.”
The van falls into a comfortable silence, only the radio playing softly in the background. Steve is surprised that it’s not one of Eddie’s tapes playing, he’s always complaining about radio stations not playing any ‘real music’ and Steve’s witnessed, more than once, the way he dives for the glove compartment to dig out one of his tapes before he even starts the van. He can’t help but wonder if the reason why Eddie is listening to the radio is because he was rushing to get to Steve and didn’t even have time to pick a tape.
Whether it’s the truth or not, it makes a dopey smile appear on Steve’s face, thinking about Eddie not wasting any time looking for a cassette tape because he knew Steve was in a hurry. He also didn’t change out of his pajamas or pause to fix his hair on his way out, Steve thinks as he looks Eddie up and down. He’s currently in plaid pajama pants and an old band shirt with holes around the collar that Steve knows he wears to bed, and his hair is sticking out every which way even more than usual.
He looks cute like that, and Steve’s dopey smile only grows because of it.
“You know,” Eddie starts and Steve jumps, thinking for a moment that he caught him staring, but his eyes are still fixed on the road. “If you want I can take a look at your car? Old Al Munson didn’t just teach me how to hotwire them, you know? Maybe I can fix whatever’s wrong with it.”
Steve blinks. “Really?”
He’s sure that there must be hearts in his eyes right now. He was already dreading having to pay for a tow truck to take his car to the mechanic and then pay to fix whatever was wrong with it. That kind of money would really put a dent in his plans to save enough for a place of his own, so Eddie fixing it for him would be a great help.
“Of course, Stevie,” Eddie says, flashing him a dimpled grin. Yup, definitely hearts in Steve’s eyes right now. “I can drive you home after your shift and take a look at it. I’ll bring Wayne’s tools.”
The visual of Eddie bending over the hood of Steve’s car with a tool belt around his tiny waist pops up in Steve’s mind without a warning, making warmth pool in his stomach.
He shakes his head and focuses on the Eddie in front of him- sweet, cute Eddie who is offering to give Steve a ride and help him with his car. Yeah, that’s really not any better than sexy mechanic Eddie from his fantasies.
“That would be awesome, Eds, thank you,” he says, possibly a little too earnestly.
It makes Eddie a little shy. He winds some of his hair around his finger and pulls it in front of his mouth. “Don’t go singing praises at me yet, I might not be able to fix it.”
“Maybe not, but I appreciate it anyway, the ride back home too,” Steve says softly. If Robin was here she would tell him to tone it down with the googly eyes and the mushy smiles, the way she does when the three of them hang out-
Shit. Robin.
He checks his watch and a whine slips past his lips.
Eddie notices and the van takes on speed as he pushes his foot harder against the pedal. “We’re almost there,” he says reassuringly.
Steve nods, but his leg stays bouncing anxiously for the rest of the drive.
***
Finally, Eddie drives the van into the Family Video parking lot.
Steve looks for Robin in the distance, squinting his eyes, wanting to gauge just how angry she looks. If she looks like she’s about to murder Steve, he might just tell Eddie to keep driving.
When he spots her, Steve’s stomach falls. She doesn’t look angry, but that’s only because she has an apologetic look on her face as she talks and gestures wildly to a family of three. Steve can’t read her lips, but he figures she must be explaining to them how her coworker and best friend is an idiot who doesn’t know how to work an alarm clock and that he should be getting here any minute now so she can murder him but not before she sends them on their merry way with whatever movie they’re here to rent and a bunch of candy and popcorn. On the house, of course.
“Fuck me,” Steve mutters, slumping back against the seat.
They never get customers this early on Sundays. Never.
Go fucking figure.
Eddie also squints his eyes through the windshield and scrunches up his nose at what he sees. “Maybe you can bribe them with PB&Js too?”
Steve appreciates Eddie trying to lighten his mood, but all he can muster right now is a slight huff of laughter. He starts gathering his things, ready to jump from the van as soon as Eddie parks.
“What time should I pick you up?” Eddie asks as he starts slowing down the van.
“Uh, I get off at four,” Steve says, just as he makes eye contact with Robin. She manages to glare at him while keeping her polite customer service face on. It’s impressive. “If Robin doesn’t kill me first.”
Eddie sniggers. “I don’t think she’ll kill you, maybe hurt you, or put Nair on your shampoo.”
Steve whimpers pathetically at the thought. The van slows to a stop. With the keys to the store in one hand and his Family Video vest in the other, Steve pushes the door open. He already has one leg out when Eddie says, “Wait!”
Steve half turns in his seat and gives him an impatient look, but it shifts into a grateful one when he sees that Eddie is holding the Tupperware with the sandwiches.
“Not so fast, sweetheart, don’t forget your bribe,” Eddie tells him with a lopsided grin.
Later, Steve will ask himself why he did what he does next, but the truth is, he doesn’t know.
Maybe it’s because he’s in a hurry and his body is moving faster than his brain. Maybe it’s because he had a shitty morning and Eddie swooped in like a knight in plaid pajama pants and a worn band shirt. Maybe he smashed his head too hard against the steering wheel of his car earlier that morning. Maybe it’s Eddie’s dimples or maybe it’s the pet name.
The thing is he doesn’t know what does it, just that something gets his wires crossed somehow, and before he knows it, he’s leaning over the space between their seats and pressing a quick kiss to Eddie’s mouth.
He doesn’t even realize he does it. Not yet.
He just grabs the Tupperware from Eddie’s limp hands, throws a “bye, Eds!” over his shoulder, and shuts the van door.
Robin’s head snaps in his direction as he makes his way across the parking lot, attempting to put on his vest without dropping the keys or the sandwiches. The family is watching him too and luckily they don’t look mad about having to wait- Steve checks his watch- shit, thirty minutes for him to get here.
“Hi, hello, I’m so sorry,” he starts apologizing before he even gets to them. He tosses the keys to Robin, who fumbles to catch them, so he can finish shrugging on his vest. “I’m so terribly sorry I kept you waiting,” he tells the family while Robin unlocks the door and flips the sign so it says Open! “My alarm didn’t go off and then my friend had to drive me ‘cause my car wouldn’t start and I couldn’t find my godda-rn vest!” He corrects himself when his eyes dart to the kid staring up at him. “But none of that matters now! Because I’m here and we’re-”
“Open!” Robin says, sweeping her arm in front of the door with a flourish, kind of like Eddie does sometimes.
Speaking of Eddie, Steve glances over his shoulder and notices that the van is still there.
Which, weird. But right now there’s nothing he can do about that.
Instead, he starts ushering the family inside, putting on his most charming smile. “Come in, come in, we’ll have you out of here in no time!” He says, following after them.
He makes eye contact with Robin over the kid’s head and mouths I’m so sorry, grimacing when she glares at him. But at least she holds the door open for him too, instead of letting it slam on his face, which he probably deserves.
Once inside, Steve helps the family find the movie they’re looking for in record time while Robin starts the computer system. By the time he guides them back to the counter, she’s ready to log it into the system. They give them an extra couple of days to return it, for the trouble, as well as all the Milk Duds and cherry licorice they want. On the house. Then they wave at them as they head out, throwing a “Thank you for choosing Family Video!” for good measure.
When the door closes, Steve spins around to face Robin on the other side of the counter. “I’m so sorry, Robs,” he says with as much feeling as he can muster.
She pokes him in the chest several times with her bony fingers. “You owe me so much! I’ve been apologizing to that family for thirty minutes, dingus!”
“I know! I’ll clean the floors today and I’ll take care of the reshelving and you can take an extra long break and I won’t say anything!”
Robin doesn’t speak, just glares. Steve grabs his Tupperware, his last resort, and pushes it across the counter toward her. “I made you PB&J sandwiches. Your favorite.”
She heaves out a long sigh. “Okay, fine, I forgive you, but you’re doing all of that and you’re letting me pick the movie of the day and you’re watching it with me.” Steve nods profusely. The corners of her mouth twitch up, and even if it’s not a full smile, Steve feels relief flood through him. “Now come on, let’s finish getting this place ready for business, and then we can have those sandwiches and you can explain how you got here so late.”
“Yes, ma’am!” Steve says, giving her a two-fingered salute like he’s seen Eddie do many times.
Speaking of Eddie, Steve squints at the parking lot before following Robin’s lead- turning on lights and straightening cardboard cutouts.
He notices that the van is finally gone, and so is Eddie.
***
“Then I almost left the sandwiches in Eddie’s van!”
Robin gasps dramatically, cradling her half-eaten PB&J against her chest. She’s in a much better mood now, after one and a half sandwiches, more apologizing from Steve and his dramatic retelling of this morning’s events.
“Which would be just my luck today, I swear! But Eddie wouldn’t let me forget them,” Steve says, his smile turning dopey the moment he brings up Eddie. He knows this because he sees Robin rolling her eyes. “So I grabbed them and then I-”
And that’s when it hits Steve. What he did. Almost an hour after the fact.
The fact being- He kissed Eddie.
“Oh God,” he mutters, horrified. “Oh fuck, oh God.”
“What? Are you having a stroke? What is it?” Robin asks, eyes widening in alarm. “Steve?” She waves her hands in front of his face and bread crumbs fly everywhere. Steve knows he’s going to have to clean those, but right now he doesn’t care about that at all.
He lets out a pitiful whimper, his hands flying to his face. “Oh my God!”
“Steve, what?”
“I kissed Eddie,” he says, but the words are muffled by his hands over his face.
He hears Robin let out a sigh. “Steve, my best friend, my platonic soulmate with a capital P. I know we joke about it but I can’t actually read your mind. I’m gonna need you to speak more clearly.”
Dropping his hands onto the counter, Steve’s eyes meet hers, then he says, loud and clear, “I kissed Eddie.”
Robin’s face goes through many different emotions in like, twenty seconds. Shock, confusion, something that Steve dubs her fucking finally, dingus! expression, and then, outrage.
“Wait! So you were late because you were busy kissing Eddie? Steve!” She says on her way to get angry again, but Steve starts shaking his head before she’s done talking.
“No! Robs, I was running late and then I kissed Eddie as I was getting out of the van!”
The outrage disappears and she grins at Steve. “Fucking finally, dingus!” She says, and yup, that’s the one, Steve got it right. She holds her hand up for a high five, but Steve grabs her hand between his instead, shaking his head.
“No, Robin, no, this is bad.”
“Why? You like Eddie!”
“I do! I like him so much, but he was never supposed to find out, and definitely not by me just- kissing him!” He says, shaking his hands wildly and Robin’s too since it’s still trapped between them.
“Okay, first, I need my hand back,” Robin says, extracting her hand from Steve’s hold. “Now, what did Eddie do when you kissed him? Did he kiss you back or did he go like, ahhh and pushed you out of the van?”
“I- I don’t know. Nothing?” Steve tries to remember, but his whole morning was a blur. It’s just his luck that he finally kisses the boy he likes and he can’t even remember it. “He just- sat there. Actually, he sat there for a while because he was still here when we were helping that family. Oh my God, is that bad? Do you think he’s mad? Robs, what do I do?” He drops his head on the counter and feels Robin pat his head. He doesn’t even care that her hand is sticky with peanut butter and jelly.
“You said he’s picking you up later?” Steve makes what’s supposed to be a noise of assent. “Okay, so you talk to him.”
“If he even shows up.”
Another pat. “I’m sure he will and then you just tell him the truth. That you kissed him because-”
“I was having a stroke?” He says, twisting his head to one side so he can look at her.
Robin rolls her eyes. “I said the truth, dingus.”
“But the truth is so embarrassing. So, Eddie, I kissed you because I think you’re cute, I kissed you because you came to my rescue this morning, I kissed you because you called me sweetheart and it might’ve melted my brain. I kissed you because I finally let myself do what I’ve wanted to do for weeks!” He groans pitifully. “What if he doesn’t like the truth, Robin? What if he doesn’t like me?”
“You know what I think about that,” she says and Steve does know. She’s told him that she thinks Eddie feels the same way over and over while trying to convince him to make a move, but Steve doesn’t believe her. “But if he doesn’t, then at least you’ll know. And whatever happens, you’ll have me and an endless supply of romantic movies we can both cry to! And ice cream, lots and lots of ice cream!”
Steve lifts his head fully from the counter and smiles gratefully at her. “Thanks, Robs.”
“Of course, Steve, now come on! I know what movie I’m picking today!” She says, hopping onto the counter and swinging her legs over it, barely missing Steve’s head.
“Ugh, not Children of Paradise again, please.” Steve groans when Robin grabs hold of his wrist and pulls him in the direction of their romantic drama section.
She does pick that one again and Steve has no choice but to go with it, but at least with a two-part movie, he’s distracted for a whole two hours and forty-five minutes so he doesn’t think about Eddie or what he’ll say to him later.
Not that much anyway.
(Okay, maybe he does.)
***
Steve half expects Eddie to not show up, and a part of him wishes he’s right, so he doesn’t have to talk to him yet- or ever.
He’s surprised when, at four o’clock, he sees the van roll into the Family Video parking lot.
That surprise quickly turns into horror and he must make some kind of noise that alerts Robin and makes her follow his gaze.
“I told you he’d come!”
He turns to her with a pleading look. “Please let me hitch a ride with you and Nancy, Robs, I can’t do this.”
“You can, Steve,” she says, putting her hands on his shoulders to guide him toward the door. Steve tries to put up some resistance, digging his heels into the floor, but she puts her whole body into it and manages to get him moving.
“What if I kiss him again?”
Robin snorts. “Maybe try to have a conversation with him first,” she suggests, pulling the door open and shoving Steve through it. “And if it turns out that he wants to kiss you then go for it!”
“But what do I even say?”
“You’re asking me that? Pfff. I’m hopeless, you know that. Just be honest, okay? And call me as soon as you get home to tell me everything!” And with that, she shoves him toward Eddie’s van. Steve stumbles a few steps, thankfully catching himself just before he eats dirt.
When he looks up, he sees Eddie staring at him through the windshield. He probably just saw Steve nearly faceplant in the parking lot- and Steve’s supposed to hope Eddie wants to kiss him after that? Yeah, right.
With a sigh, he starts walking towards the van. He reaches the passenger door sooner than he’d like, and after bracing himself, he opens the door and climbs inside.
“Hey,” Steve says, wiggling his fingers in a wave.
He notices that Eddie’s hands are clinging to the leather of the steering wheel. He gives Steve a smile that looks a little strained. “Hey, Steve.”
An awkward silence falls over them and Steve’s fingers itch to open the door and run away, but he can see Robin chatting with Nancy, the two of them standing next to her car, and he’s sure that if he makes a run for it, Robin will chase him down and drag him back to the front seat of Eddie’s van herself.
So he stays where he is and glances at Eddie, noticing that he looks different from this morning.
“You changed your clothes-” he starts, but Eddie chooses that moment to also start talking.
“Seems like Buckley’s in a better mood-”
They both cut themselves off when the other speaks, looking at each other and laughing a little awkwardly.
Eddie looks down at himself. He’s wearing ripped jeans, a self-made Corroded Coffin shirt, and his hair is pulled back into a ponytail, which allows Steve to see the earrings adorning his right ear. “I did change clothes. I don’t just hang around and do nothing in my pajamas all day. Sometimes, I wear jeans,” he says, making Steve snort. “So, did the PB&J sandwiches work?” He asks, gesturing at Robin across the parking lot. Steve can see her glancing towards the van every couple of seconds. She’s not being subtle.
“They did, but I also had to let her pick this long French drama for movie of the day and let her take an hour-long break. And also apologize like, three hundred times.”
“Damn, Buckley’s tougher than I thought,” Eddie whistles, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “But she let you off the hook?”
“Yeah, we’re good.”
Eddie nods. “Cool.”
Another silence. This one’s less uncomfortable, but it still feels like something is hanging over their heads. No, not just something.
Steve sighs. Might as well get it over with.
“So,” he says.
“So,” Eddie echoes, flexing his fingers around the steering wheel.
“I kissed you.”
There, he said it. It’s out there.
Eddie inhales sharply. “You did.” His knuckles start to turn white with how hard he’s gripping the wheel. “Um, why did you?”
He remembers Robin’s words. The truth, Steve. Just tell him the truth.
“Honestly, I don’t know. I didn’t even realize I did it at first,” Steve says, running a hand through his hair, keeping his eyes on his lap.
“So it was just- what? An accident? You- you didn’t mean it?” Eddie’s voice sounds uncharacteristically small, quiet. Steve risks glancing at him, and when he does, he finds that Eddie has shrunk in on himself. His eyes meet Steve’s for a split second and he looks hurt, like he wanted the kiss to mean something.
And Steve can’t have him thinking that it didn’t. No way.
He turns sideways on his seat, leaning forward, closing some of the distance between them.
“I didn’t realize I did it because I’m so used to thinking about kissing you,” Steve admits. Eddie’s eyes snap up to meet his- wide, hopeful.
“You- you are?”
Steve nods, feeling his cheeks turn pink, but he doesn’t let that stop him. “I’m just usually better at stopping myself from doing anything about it, but today,” He shakes his head, letting out a shaky laugh. “You swooped in to help me and were looking so cute in your pajamas and you were smiling at me with your dimples and I- I just did it, without thinking. So I didn’t mean to do it, but I meant it.”
Eddie’s lip is trapped between his teeth as he chews on it nervously. It’s very distracting, but Steve does his best to keep his eyes off his mouth and on his eyes, which are sparkling as he thinks over Steve’s words. “Holy shit, you did?”
“Yeah, I meant it so much that when I realized what I did, I started panicking.”
Finally, Eddie lets go of the steering wheel, slumping back against his seat, and huffing out a burst of air. “Thought I was the only one who was panicking.”
Steve’s eyebrows knit. “Why would you be panicking?”
Eddie shoots him an incredulous look. “Because! You kissed me and then just- said goodbye like- like you didn’t turn my world fucking- upside down with that kiss, pun absolutely intended. I didn’t know if for you it was like, a friend thing or a mistake or-”
“Not a friend thing,” Steve says, “and not a mistake.”
Eddie lets those words sink in then starts nodding in a way that makes him look like the Chewbacca bobblehead toy he keeps next to his bed. Steve has to bite down on a smile. “Okay. Okay, good, because I want you to do it again.”
“Huh?”
Eddie meets his gaze. “You took me by surprise this morning, but I want you to kiss me again. So I can kiss you back this time.”
Steve’s stomach flips. “Holy shit.” He doesn’t move right away and Eddie looks at him expectantly, not taking it back, waiting for Steve to kiss him again. And what the fuck is Steve even waiting for? “Shit, yeah, okay.”
His hand catches Eddie’s jaw, cradles it with his palm, and he leans over the space between the two seats for the second time that day. Only this time, he moves slowly, committing everything to memory- the way Eddie’s breath hitches when Steve touches his face, the way he goes cross-eyed staring at Steve as he moves closer, the way he whines when their lips brush, not quite touching yet.
And finally, the way Eddie fists the lapel of Steve’s Family Video vest, and in an impatient move, pulls him towards him, crashing their mouths together.
And Steve- well. Steve doesn’t know how he did this already and didn’t remember until an hour later. Because this? He’s never forgetting this.
Eddie’s mouth is warm and soft. There’s a small cut on his bottom lip, no doubt from him chewing on it hard while panicking. When Steve flicks his tongue over it, Eddie yelps, but then he’s tugging Steve even closer by his vest and he’s licking into Steve’s mouth and Steve’s brain goes offline. He gets lost in the kiss. Lost in Eddie. He’s drowning and he never wants to come up for air.
But sadly that’s not something he can do. At some point, he has to breathe so he breaks the kiss but he doesn’t go far. He stays in Eddie’s space, his hand stroking over his jaw. And even if he wanted to move he wouldn’t be able to go anywhere, not with the hold Eddie has on his vest.
“I say this should count as our first kiss,” Eddie whispers, his forehead resting against Steve’s.
“What’s wrong with our actual first kiss?”
“Dude,” Eddie says, and the fact that he’s calling him that while their faces are a few inches from each other after kissing, makes Steve giggle. “The kiss lasted like, a second and you ran away right after!”
Steve’s face scrunches up. “Yeah, maybe it wasn’t my best work.”
Eddie snorts. “It really made me question everything I heard about Steve Harrington’s kissing prowess.”
“My- what? Where did you even hear that?”
Eddie shrugs, making Steve’s hand fall from his jaw to his shoulder where he starts playing with a curl that slipped free from his ponytail. “I used to hang out under the bleachers a lot, and heard many girls gossiping about your mad kissing skills.” He waggles his eyebrows, making Steve laugh. “So imagine my surprise when you go and kiss me like- like my grandma used to kiss me! I thought they had to be talking about someone else.”
Steve’s cheeks go red, but he tries to save some face by asking, “And after that second kiss, do you still think they were wrong?”
Eddie gulps. “Nope.”
“Good,” Steve says with a pleased smile. “Then maybe we can count this as our first kiss, I wouldn’t want my reputation to be ruined when we tell people about this.”
Eddie doesn’t laugh at the joke. He’s back to chewing on his lip, which is significantly more distracting now that Steve knows what those lips feel and taste like, but right now he focuses on the way Eddie’s eyes start flickering all over the inside of the van, not meeting Steve’s when he quietly asks, “This?”
“What?”
“You said this like, what do you mean? What is this?” He lets go of Steve’s vest to gesture between them. “Is it like, just kissing or do you, uh, do you want to be with me? Like, boyfriends or something?”
“Exactly like boyfriends,” Steve says, making Eddie squeak adorably. “If that’s what you want.”
“Steve, God, there’s nothing I want more,” Eddie says with a dopey smile that rivals Steve’s.
Except it doesn’t because Steve is beaming at the thought of being Eddie’s boyfriend. Of Eddie being his boyfriend. Christ. He would be embarrassed about how giddy he feels if he couldn’t tell Eddie was riding the same high as he is.
“Then I guess I should give my boyfriend that ride home that I promised him, hm?” He asks, leaning back on his seat, but not before he leaves a fleeting kiss on the corner of Steve’s mouth.
And God, hearing Eddie call him that makes Steve feel like he’s floating. “Yeah, you should.”
He leans back too as Eddie starts the van. Steve glances across the parking lot before he drives them away and realizes that Nancy’s car is gone. They must’ve taken off around the time Steve kissed Eddie after Robin realized Steve wouldn’t try to run.
“I promised you something too, if I remember correctly,” Steve says, looking out the window as Eddie drives them onto the main street. His eyes flick towards Steve, one of his eyebrows raised. “I promised I’d do anything if you gave me a ride to work, remember?”
Eddie’s eyes widen as he realizes what he’s talking about. He teased Steve about this all morning and now it’s his turn to return the favor.
“And now that we’re together the list of things I can do got significantly bigger so you might want to think about how you want me to pay you back,” he says with a smirk.
Color starts rising from Eddie’s neck to his cheeks and then to his ears. “I- shit, you want me to think about this while I drive?” His voice goes higher in pitch as he stammers more words out. “Do you want me to crash this fucking van, Steve? Jesus!”
Steve just laughs, relaxing back against his seat. He trusts Eddie not to get them into an accident, but just to be on the safe side, he stops teasing him and reaches for the volume dial on the radio, turning the music up.
He steals glances at Eddie as he drives, thinking how the end of his day did a complete turn from how it started. His morning had been a disaster, especially when he thought he ruined things with Eddie.
But now, Steve is heading home after kissing the boy he likes, and he gets to watch him play sexy mechanic while fixing his car, and he gets to do something about it if he wants- like kiss Eddie stupid against the hood of his car.
So, in retrospect, Steve thinks, his alarm not going off this morning might actually be the best thing to ever happen to him.
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renku · 6 months
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Catering Demand and Need
Loossemble Yeojin x Male Reader
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“Yeojin, what are you doing down there?”
“Nothing, oppa... You took so long to get here,” Yeojin playfully twirls her hair while still exposing her thighs out, “I’m kinda lonely here without my unnies...”
“Now’s not the time, Yeojin.”
Yeojin pouted and climbed on the couch, slouching to show her disappointment.
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What am I going to do with her? This old, repititive question is almost a million dollar question in Mathematics that the most brilliant minds in the world try to solve. But Yeonjin is on another level. Try with all might and sheer will, it’s always her—Yeojin always, always wins.
Letting a sigh as a sign of defeat before sitting beside her, Yeojin knew that it’ll happen no matter what—she will prevail.
“Baby girl?” soft yet manly tone, a maintained balance of persuasion and dominance. Yeojin must know she’s the one in need, and the one that needs to earn it.
No answer. As expected. Yeojin’s habit of putting the act for a bit longer serves as her trump card. Just to get this over with, let Yeojin have it her way.
Felt the touch from your index finger on her silky thigh, gradually sliding upward until it reaches the hem of the laced white dress. Inaudible gasp escaped her lips, and goosebumps spread all over her.
“Still not going to answer, baby girl?”
Yeojin is a tough cookie to break. Well, you already did literally before but it’s the attitude. She could just gave a nod or a simple 'yes' or 'no' to make things easier. If a newbie managed to survive the job as her manager, it’ll be a breakthrough. But here you are, still on the same role and job.
It would only be a matter of time before the others arrive. Compromising others’ time and schedule would spell disaster. Raising the hem of her dress, a pleasant smell greeted your nose—fresh rose scent from her favorite feminine wash, and visual blessing by means of a matched red-laced panties; enough to increase the blood flow in all the right areas in your body.
As much as you want to tease Yeojin first, it’s just simply impractical and dangerous at the current circumstances.
Grabbing and pulling her undergarments in one go; almost breaking it at the process. Your hands found their place in Yeojin's petite cheeks—oh, for the love of Venus—supple and irresistible.
“O- op- uhm– Daddy?”
Thank God, she finally spoke. And she just used her ultimate move. The perfect trigger—climbing to the level of overdrive.
“Yes, baby girl?”
“Will Daddy punish me for not behaving good?” Yeojin turned around to look at you with her half-lidded eyes. Fuck. So vulnerable yet ruinable.
“Yes, my baby girl needs to learn again to listen.”
Spreading her cheeks there lies her impatient lubricated cunt; dripping, already forming a pool on the couch but it doesn’t matter anymore. Unbuckling your belt with haste to push down your pants and briefs in one go just enough to let out your raging cock.
“All fours, now.”
Yeojin didn’t even hesitate for a second. She got herself into position right away.
A two, quick strokes on your cock before lining up yourself in her entrance. The glans kissed her labia, making Yeojin whimper.
“Hmmp–”
“Still not used to this, baby girl?”
“It’s just– Daddy’s cock is too big for my pus– AH!”
Not letting Yeojin finish as you pulled her waist to penetrate her deep right away. Tight. Warm. Wet. Perfect. Words could not even experiencing the real thing. Its grip like it's holding on for its dear life? Priceless. That is why you can keep with Yeojin and her stubbornness, when there’s a sweet prize only you and you can claim.
Your hips knew what they suppose to do—starting from a nice, good rhythm gradually increasing tempo. Clapping sounds growing stronger each second.
“Yes- oh- oh- fuck- yes, daddy! I miss your big cock so much!” Yeojin really screams her heart out in happiness, or pleasure, or both in general. Her cute, lewd voice—the same one she uses to record their songs which her fans enjoy. Well, you couldn’t totally blame them. It’s an earcandy.
“Shit. So good- ugh!” you grunted.
Dirty, filthy sounds—moans, whimpers, two fleshes clapping against the other, and compliments of how two bodies give each other pleasure—are what filled the room basically. You and Yeojin may not admit it but you can’t get enough of each other. It’s like a need that turned into addiction. Yin-yang. Light and dark. Good and bad.
But like everything else, there’s always an end. Your phone rings, and the ringtone is specifically assigned for the group. They’re about to arrive in no time. Time to finish the business and thankfully Lady Luck is on your side.
“Yeojin, fuck, argh, I’m close!”
“Yes, Daddy! Do it inside! Breed me, fill me with your cum!”
Even without her words, you’re about to do it anyway. Spraying all your semen on the couch is not a good news for the others.
“I'm cumming!”
With your final forceful thrust, burying your cock deep inside, ropes and ropes of cum reached her womb, painting her insides. Yeojin’s still tight pussy milking you out—baby girl claiming her prize. She also came as her spasms were noticeable; her body barely keeping steady from her position. Upon slipping out your cock, you pulled her panties back immediately to avoid any droplets of cum reaching the couch.
Yeojin was exhausted real good. But she has to fix herself before the girls see her ruined and messed up.
“Get up, Yeojin. Your unnies are coming. We need to fix ourselves and everything else before they arrive.”
“Ok... yes, oppa,” she said, her voice showing signs of fatigue.
~~~
After making sure no trace was left on the crime scene, the girls arrived just on time. The assistant manager was the one who handled them for the meantime. They looked tired on the ride going home.
“Oh, manager-nim, Yeojin, you two are here already? How lucky!” one of the girls said.
“Just need to talk about something with our lovely maknae,” you replied.
“What is it?”
“Oh, nothing serious. Just a few reminders from the company.”
“I see. Well, we better go to bed it’s already getting late.”
“Right, right. Shall we, Yeojin?”
“Yes, manager-nim!” she responded with such enthusiasm, and winked at you before going to her room.
“Oh, please,” you sighed, as the exhilarating job of keeping up with them especially Yeojin, continues. Sadly.
A/N: Purely BFH and done in one sitting. Seeing Yeojin was just- hoo, nevermind. Anyway, the fic is unedited so forgive me for a few mistakes. Have work tomorrow but still finished this using the writing juices I have. Hope you enjoy! Have a good day, or night!
- Ren :)
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model!steve and voice actor!eddie
part 2 here | ao3 link here
Eddie chose a career in voice acting to avoid shit like this.
Forced socializing. Schmoozing with hotshot directors who are used to everyone kissing their ass until their lips bleed. And Eddie doesn’t do that shit. 
… Okay yeah sure, Eddie kisses asses. But only in the literal, consensual kind of way. Usually after a few mediocre dinner dates, at least.
But this particular fuckhole of a director is insisting that Eddie attends the production shoot of the commercial that he’ll be narrating for. Which is weird - that’s not how this process typically goes. Eddie gets the script and records it in his studio. Easy peasy.
“I do things a little differently with my projects.” The director sneers into the phone’s speaker. Eddie silently gags at the oozing amounts of ego on this guy. “I want to immerse you into my vision.”
Ew. Eddie would rather immerse himself into a nap, but whatever. A job is a job.
“Understood.” Eddie agrees with minimal teeth-clenching. “I’ll be on set shortly.”
The phone clicks dead with nothing but a chuckle from the guy. No ‘goodbye,’ no ‘thank you.’ Rude… but that’s kind of an industry standard, so why did Eddie expect anything different?
He folds the script into his back pocket, throws on a shirt that screams ‘Los Angeles disaster gay,’ and makes his way to the studio lot.
Fucking yay. 
Upon arrival, the director immediately escorts Eddie into the green room. Rambles on about needing him to meet the lead model for this commercial.
“Isn’t he just posing with the product?” Eddie lets his snarkiness run loose with that question, knows it right away.
Luckily, the guy is too busy snapping at a crew member to notice. “You’ll be voicing his character’s inner narrations.”
“Right.”
“And I want your tone to be seamless with the energy that he’s giving in this shoot. Got it?”
“Loud and clear.” Mostly loud.
The director swings open the door and reveals maybe the most cosmically beautiful person that Eddie has ever seen.
“Eddie, this is Steve.” The director says. “Steve, this is Eddie.”
Models are beautiful people, that’s the goddamn gig. Makeup, no makeup. Photoshop, no photoshop. They just look better than the general population and society accepts that as a fact.
But Eddie is a grubby little voice actor that burrows himself up in his boxy apartment for days. Very little sunlight, very little human interaction, and a shit ton of takeout.
Long story short, he doesn’t get out much. So this? Seeing a biblically hot heartthrob in the flesh? With his own two eyes? It’s knocking him into deep space. Sending him into an astral projection without sticking a tablet on his tongue first.
“Nice to meet you, man.” Steve holds out his hand while someone brushes more powder onto his shiny, glowy skin. God, that’s the best damn skin Eddie has ever seen. Powder be damned, Steve doesn’t need it’s chalky finish.
Eddie shakes himself out of this spell, takes Steve’s hand like he’s somehow worthy of touching him. “Yeah, you too.”
Lame. So lame. On a scale of one to Star Wars prequels, his response is the CGI in Attack of the Clones. ‘Yeah, you too?’ Ugh, what a dumbass.
The director tells them to get acquainted and to be on set in ten minutes. Ten minutes. Eddie has to be convincingly normal for ten whole minutes. Pfft, that’s laughable, but he’ll give it a shot.
“That guy’s a total asshat.” Steve grumbles.
Oh. Eddie could smother him in kisses for saying that. Lick Steve clean of all that stupid powder and probably die of talc poisoning. Death By Licking a Model is one hell of a way to go.
“Yeah.” Find some new words, Munson. “Major asshat. But he happens to be paying my bills this month, so technically, he’s my favorite major asshat.”
“Oh, same.” Steve laughs. It’s fucking glorious too. Eddie kind of wishes he had brought his microphone so that he could capture such a wonderful sound with high quality recording software. Is that creepy? Maybe he should dial it back. 
... As if. This guy’s hair is sculpted with effortless perfection and his shoulder blades could slice through a French baguette. No way Eddie can dial it back or keep it together.
“So you’re doing the voice work on the commercial, right?” Steve asks.
‘Yup.” Eddie shoves both hands into his pockets. “Indeed I am.” 
Okay, that was borderline Yoda. Get a grip.
Steve seems unfazed though. “That’s cool. Can’t wait to hear what you come up with.”
“Thanks.” Eddie smiles warmly. Nerves mellowing out. “And I can’t wait to see you in action out there.”
“Hope I can give you some good inspiration.” And Steve winks, legit winks at Eddie. Does it like it’s normal too, like he winks at everybody. He probably winks at nuns just to see if he can get them to consider conversion.
Eddie is so hopeless. Fucking tragic at this point.
They walk into the studio and are greeted by a somber, archaic set design. There’s a massive throne in the middle that is draped with fur. 
It’s… tacky. That’s the nicest adjective Eddie has to describe it. Tacky bullshit.
“I thought this was for a cologne ad.” Eddie says, eyeing the snowy backdrop.
Steve nods. “It is.”
“So what’s with the secondhand Game of Thrones set?”
“Mr. Asshat thinks this is his cinematic debut.”
Eddie snorts. Loves that he already has inside jokes with this beautiful, beautiful creature. “Someone should tell Mr. Asshat that this is visual plagiarism.”
“Nah.” Steve runs his hand over the tacky fur piece. Smirks to himself as he speaks. “I say we let him suffer.”
Eddie’s legs wobble. “Damn, you’re hot.”
He sounds ridiculously uncool, so breathy and gone. But Steve shrugs in a non-pitying kind of way, so maybe Eddie's uncoolness is excused. Or expected.
While the camera and lighting crew finalize their positions, Steve takes off his robe, revealing his costume.
Torn, muddied pants. Ripped and clawed to shreds. A billowy white top that’s completely unbuttoned. Un-laced? Eddie’s not entirely sure about the mechanics - just knows that Steve’s chest is out, that’s all he can focus on.
There’s a dented crown that the stylist places next to the throne, right at Steve’s feet. It’s shimmery yet tarnished, catches the light in a kaleidoscope effect.
The product is called The Fallen King, so deductive reasoning tells Eddie that Steve is meant to be the physical embodiment of this scent. He recalls something in the script about his title being slandered by promiscuity and forbidden love. Apparently they’ve bottled up that smell into a cologne. 
Do people really want to smell like a dethroned monarch? That’s a thing? Huh.
Just to make the sexual torture even more unbearable, Eddie gets to spectate alongside Mr. Asshat himself. Which also means that Eddie almost has a center view of Steve’s performance.
Cause that’s exactly what he’s giving. A performance. A full display production of his body, his face. His whole godlike essence. 
It’s unfair how fucked Eddie is from watching Steve pose. He can hold the oddest positions without budging a single tendon. So still. Durable. Strong.
Every last thought in Eddie’s head is impure from that observation. He wants to wrap his fingers around Steve’s muscles until he finally moves, twitches. Eddie wants to watch as Steve’s pretty lips part, falling open with sighs. See how long it takes for those sighs to turn into moans.
Steve slumps back into the throne, legs spread obscenely far apart. His gaze droops low and dark, practically eye-fucking the camera. It’s crazy how jealous Eddie is of that stupid inanimate object. The things he would do to get eye-fucked by that golden sex god up there…
His internal porno gets interrupted by a new pose. A wicked one. Steve is on his knees now, looking up into the camera lens. He sinks into the dreamiest expression. Looks dazed, all spaced-out and helpless. Eddie kneads at the growing heat in his pants with the heel of his palm. Hopes it’s not fucking obvious that he’s so horned up right now.
The director clears his throat and yells over the camera’s constant shuttering. “Can you tilt your head back, Steve?”
And Steve does. So obedient, so exceptional at his job. His head rolls back on his neck, shoulders sagging with the shift of weight.
Eddie is chewing the inside of his cheek, nearly ready to take the horny loss and go jack off in his car. Steve is in the most ideal position now, totally vulnerable. Eddie could fuck him so good like that, let Steve melt into his touch. He’d treat him like treasure, spoil him with dick and praise. Eddie would catch him if his legs give out. Would lick Steve’s kiss-bitten lips until the swelling goes down.
God, Eddie is so sick in the head for conjuring up x-rated scenes like this. In public, surrounded by strangers. Literally on the clock. He seriously needs to get his head checked for having such a whorish imagination.
The shoot ends shortly after that last pose, the one that rocked Eddie’s world. He closes his eyes for a minute, takes a few deep breaths. Tries to inhale some goddamn decency.
“How was it?” Steve heads his way, snaking his arms back into the bathrobe.
Eddie blinks hard. “It was… you were…” And the words stop. Nothing else comes out, his throat is strangled and bare.
Steve gives a soft laugh, nudges Eddie’s arm with his elbow. “Guess you do better when there’s a script in front of you, huh?”
Oh. So he’s pretty and darkly playful? This is too good, too delicious.
Eddie wets his bottom lip, recovers quickly. “I do better when there’s not an earthbound angel in my presence.”
“Wow.” Steve raises both eyebrows. “That’s quite the compliment.”
“Oh come on - you must get compliments all the time.”
“Not like that one though.”
“No?”
Steve takes a step into Eddie’s space. “Definitely not.”
They just stare after that - mostly because it’s Eddie’s turn to speak but words are so secondary when there’s this much beauty to behold. Gazing becomes his top priority.
And before the conversation can lead to an exchange of last names or phone numbers, Steve is rushed off by his agent. Maybe his publicist. Maybe his mom, Eddie has no fucking clue. Just someone taking away his shiny new toy. He sort of feels like reenacting that scene in Cast Away when the volleyball drifts into the ocean. Be dramatic as all hell about this ending.
Eddie doesn’t actually jack off in his car, although he really wants to. No, he decides to use all of his adrenaline and pent-up hormones for the voice recording. It gives his vocals this strained, chesty sound. Sinful and corrupt. Cracking with emotion in certain spots, spiking the volume in all the right ways.
It might be too much, a little bit too suggestive for a lousy cologne advertisement.
But as he listens back, Eddie can’t help but picture Steve. Imagining snapshots of him from every angle, especially the unspeakable ones. The recording barely sounds like a script anymore. It almost sounds like Eddie whispering the lines directly into Steve’s ear. A dirty secret between them.
This is it, he thinks. Sends the audio file to his sound mixer without a second read-through, without a retake. This might be the best voiceover Eddie Munson has ever done.
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qqueenofhades · 2 years
Note
i do genuinely hesitate to ask, as i am sure i will find out more than i meant to in time, but atm my various feeds and an uninformed google are not telling me what most recently exploded about the british government, so if you have the time and the inclination i'm agog for your summary/take
HOO BOY. It has been a Things Exploding In the British Government day to the extent that in the hour-odd between my previous post and this one, I had to go back and check if anything ELSE had exploded while I wasn't looking. Everything that they are currently denying will probably be confirmed within the next 12 hours or less, though, so nobody get too comfortable.
Anyway, we all remember how Liz Truss succeeded Boris Johnson as Prime Minister, met the Queen, the Queen immediately fucking croaked which honestly was the funniest time she could possibly have done it, the country ground to a total halt for ten days, and then when it got going again, Truss and her chancellor (aka finance minister, for those of you happily ignorant of British politics), Kwasi Kwarteng, proposed a Thatcherite wet-dream economic plan of unfunded massive tax cuts for rich people, because something something Stimulate Growth. We are also generally aware that this crashed the pound through the floor, blew up people's mortgages and other mildly important bills, and did nothing to deal with the actual energy bills/cost of living crisis currently engulfing the UK. Oops.
After absolutely everybody, including the commie socialists at the Bank of England, screamed OH MY GOD WHAT ARE YOU MORONS DOING???, and the day after Kwarteng insisted he would absolutely remain in post and he had 100% confidence in the Plan, he... got sacked for creating this, the Plan that Truss had asked him to deliver and which had won her the Tory party members' election. This made him officially the second-shortest serving chancellor in UK history aside from the guy who literally died in office. Womp womp. That will be a pub quiz answer for you. You're welcome.
Having spent all this time hiding from the press, then giving eight-minute press conferences during which you could literally track the pound crashing in real time, and performing more U-turns than a dancing dashboard hood ornament, Liz Truss took a break from her busy schedule of conducting the Economic Disaster Waltz in the key of B Fucked to appoint Jeremy Hunt as the new chancellor. Jeremy Hunt is mostly notable for being a Tory who can put his pants on without assistance and being a genteel failure at all the previous cabinet posts he's held, which is why he is now regarded as a "safe pair of hands" in a party that has dissolved into a lot of shit-flinging coked-up gibbons who can only scream BREXIT BREXIT BREXIT and IMMIGRATION IS BAD!!! (Side note: they recently had to cancel a festival designed to "celebrate the freedoms of Brexit" due to logistics issues associated with, you guessed it, Brexit. That is not directly relevant to the current clusterfuck, but it is too funny not to include.)
To nobody's surprise, Jeremy Hunt then ripped up the entire economic plan and offered a new one, which was not measurably better than the last one but at least reversed some of the most egregious cuts, and which made everyone ask if Liz Truss had been tied up and duct-taped in the boot of a Range Rover and/or if Hunt had secretly staged a coup with the help of Larry the Downing Street Cat and taken over the government. Probably nobody in the Tory party would mind very much if he had, because they were all busy either planning how to oust Truss or publicly denying that they were indeed planning to oust Truss. One of the popular names for her successor? Boris Johnson! No, I am not making this up. Maybe this has all been a horrible dream and we're going to wake up and find that BoZo is back in charge, after massive public scandal for being a serial liar, which he had been from Day 1, finally made him resign. I repeat, what even the hell is going on here. Nobody knows. Meanwhile, Hunt is warning about even more budget austerity and "eye-watering" cuts to public services that can least afford it, because the last decade didn't result in quite enough preventable deaths for the Tories' tastes, and because they have been forced into this by a car crash completely of their own making.
....anyway. This brings us, more or less, to today. Yesterday, Truss refused to commit to protecting something called the pensions triple lock, which guarantees that old-age pensions (the UK form of social security) will rise in line with inflation, costs, or earnings. A) Inflation in the UK is now at a whopping 10.1%, and B) given as old people are literally the only demographic still willing to vote for the Tories, this miiiiiight seem like an even more unnecessarily stupid and self-sabotaging idea. Sure enough, U-Turn Number Eight Million was duly performed this morning, and Truss insisted she had always intended for the triple lock to be protected. But would Universal Credit and other welfare/benefits programs also be adjusted upward for inflation? HELL NAH! THOSE ARE FOR POOR PEOPLE! GROSS!
This, however, was only the beginning of the unpeeling of the latest idiot banana. Keir Starmer, riding high on the back of recent polls that have given Labour a 36-point lead and predicted that the Tories could be left with as few as 22 seats in Parliament if a general election was called tomorrow (leaving the SNP as the official opposition), appeared at Prime Minister's Questions and got to shoot fish in a barrel. Truss did not dissolve into a pile of goo on the floor and/or have a bucket of water thrown on her and melt into Margaret Thatcher, so that was taken as a win. Well, at least for two hours or so. Then Suella Braverman, the ex-Attorney General who had briefly run for the leadership when BoZo resigned, and who exists along with Priti Patel in order to prove that in the modern Tory party, women of color can heroically be just as much as awful xenophobic monsters as crusty old white dudes, resigned as Home Secretary. Did you even know she was Home Secretary? Neither did she. She took over Patel's job in a bid to apparently make Patel look cute and cuddly by comparison, as she is even more determined to do horrible things to migrants as much as possible. The official reason given for her resignation was that she sent an official document from her personal email account, and this had something to do with immigration and/or the Office of Budget Responsibility forecast that the Tories have, in the valiant spirit of freedom, resisted actually publishing for any of their current economic plans. CONSERVATIVES ARE GOOD FOR THE ECONOMY!! yell people on both sides of the Atlantic. Oh-kay.
Anyway, Braverman used her resignation letter to blast Truss for pretending that everything was fine and dandy, which means the BUT HER EEEEEEMAILS was absolutely just an excuse and even she wanted off this sinking ship as fast as possible. Grant Shapps is now the Home Secretary. It's not important. The point is, if more ministers start resigning, the government will probably implode just as it did when they deserted BoZo en masse. What the hell happens then? Fuck if anyone knows. Since they will, as noted, get absolutely cosmically annihilated if they call a General Election, the Tories will resist doing that with all their might (the next one isn't due until 2024, which is about 1004329 years away at the current rate that time is passing here). Truss was already elected by a tiny minority of the country (about 160,000 Tory party members). STICK RISHI SUNAK IN THERE AND CHANGE THE RULES AGAIN?? HECK, SOUNDS LIKE A PLAN! KEEP THOSE MUSICAL CHAIRS COMING, CHAPS!
(Also: we will recall the Daily Star's Lettuce Cam, where a picture of Liz Truss has been placed next to a head of lettuce to see if she is kicked out of office before it rots away. It now has a special companion, Tofu. This is because Braverman, just yesterday, gave a speech attacking the latest round of climate protesters as being spurred on by Labour, the Lib Dems, and the "Guardian-reading, tofu-eating wokerati," which she doubtless thought was a very clever line at the time. Because British Twitter is British Twitter, the Tofu: 1, Braverman: 0 jokes have been rife.)
And since we are still not done: tonight, Labour forced a vote on a fracking ban which was being treated as a de facto confidence vote in the government. Aka if the Tories voted for it, they would be considered to be defying the government. Because Britain is a cartoon country run by clowns, the method of Parliamentary voting literally involves walking through Door A for Aye and Door B for Nay. The "whips," or the people whose job it is to assure that party members vote according to the government's position, have thus been known to physically stuff recalcitrant MPs through these doors, because Hail Britannia, or something. So we soon had reports that the anti-fracking vote was, dare I say it, a total clusterfrack, and the Tory whips were literally throwing crying Tory MPs through the Nay door so they would Vote To Support The Government. This sounds like a beginning to a Monty Python sketch, but it is just another ordinary evening in British politics in 2022! (Did Truss herself vote? Or BoZo, Patel, or any of the other Tory big beasts? Nope. Evidently she was "too distracted" with all the other crises going on, which probably means she just didn't want to show her face or she might get killed. Hard to blame her.)
So: the fracking ban was defeated, Labour MPs were like "oh my god the sheer clownery," even Tory MPs were spitting mad, we soon had more rumors that both the Tory chief whip and the deputy chief whip had resigned (currently in the Official Denial stage, so yeah, that will be confirmed before tomorrow morning), and I haven't even mentioned the part where one of Liz Truss's press aides admitted that they used to lie about various relatives of hers having just died so Truss didn't have to do interviews (actual quote: "just aunts and cousins, not any major relatives!"). We all wondered if that wasn't actually a lie but the minor members of the Truss family had voluntarily decided to die rather than have anyone know that they were related to her. Either that or she just sent MI6 after them. It's entirely possible.
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padfootagain · 10 months
Text
The Car Trap
Hi!!!!! Here I am again, back to my old antics! Yes, I’m adding one more person to my masterlist. Yes, I am going to hell for this, and you know what? I’ll have such a great time!
Anyway, no one asked for this, except for me, as I was desperate for some Hozier fics, and couldn’t find any new ones anymore! So, here we go! Hope you like this, let me know what you think!
****
Pairing: Hozier x reader
Warnings: Angst, fluff, angst to fluff! Friends to lovers, snowed-in… in a car… *hihihihihihhi!!!*
Summary: You're offered a job in Switzerland, and you're ready to accept it. It would offer you a new beginning, a way to forget about the love you have for your best friend. But a trip through a snowstorm with Andrew might change everything...
Word Count: 7282
Hozier’s Masterlist - Main Masterlist
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This trip was a disaster.
A fucking, outrageously terrible disaster…
The weather was terrible, for a start. And that was a statement made with an Irish reference, which was saying a lot. It had been raining so hard you had to stop the car for a while as you could not see the road ahead at all. Then it was time for so much wind that your fingers were cramping over the strength used to hold the wheel. Four hours later, it was getting dark, the sun already setting and the sky heavy with clouds that blocked all sunlight. And it was snowing.
Fucking snowing.
Great. Wonderful. Lovely.
Oh, but if only the problem was held by the capricious weather… no… no, this was but a part of the issue. You could even say that this was the top of the iceberg, just a tiny fraction of the shit you were buried under.
Because your phone had died. But then again, you had no signal anyway to get the help of a friendly and absolutely annoying GPS; and in the passenger seat by your side, your best friend was struggling with a fifteen-year old map that was so out-of-date that it might as well have not existed for the help it got you…
You were lost. You were fucking lost, in the middle of nowhere, while it was getting dark and snowing and there was nothing manmade in sight to ask for help.
Wonderful. Truly, wonderful.
Oh, and that was without mentioning that the best friend in question was also the man you had been in love with for years but had never dared confess your feelings to.
Outrageously bad, that road trip, really…
Andrew picked up his phone to get some more light, his glasses perched haphazardly on his nose as he tried to decipher names printed on the large map splayed across his laps; hair held back in a low bun, allowing you to see his focused features.
“So?”
He merely hummed in response, a long finger following a dark line.
“Do you have any idea where we are?” you insisted.
“None whatsoever,” he shook his head.
He sat back in his seat, before rubbing his eyes.
“I mean… we’ll end up crossing a village at one point if we keep going along this road,” he sighed. “I don’t have a better plan for now.”
“We might have to stop at one point, though. The snow is getting heavy.”
“I had never envisioned dying from the cold in the middle of nowhere on some random Irish road…” Andrew joked, his tone almost contemplative, and you couldn’t refrain a chuckle.
“And with you! Absolutely not. There’s no way I’m dying with you, of all people.”
“Why not? You don’t want to see me dying?”
“I don’t want my last moments to be shared with someone as annoying as you.”
He tried to throw back some witty remark, but his laughter was too much to handle.
He had pushed back the seat as far as possible, of course, in an attempt to accommodate his long limbs, but even in this position, his legs were not fully extended before him, his knees hitting the dashboard at every bump of the road.
You forced your gaze to go back to the road again, squinting your eyes to see through the heavy snow that fell now, instead of lingering on his legs.
God… you were so damn ridiculous…
His quiet rumble of a laugh finally died out, but a smile remained set on his features, even though his tone was serious as he spoke again.
“We can still turn the engines on every once in a while to get some heat.”
“Won’t that drain the battery or something?”
“If we don’t do it too much, it should be fine. Besides, it’s not minus twenty outside, relax. We’ll be fine.”
You merely nodded, falling, as always, for the safety in his quiet voice and the warmth of his tone.
Besides, it was easier to believe in the certainty of his voice, in its soothing sound, than to face the snow falling more and more heavily outside, the night creeping over the distant mountains, right beyond the green fields. Their silhouettes were almost made invisible now by the low light, you could only guess their shadows. Despite the headlights, you could barely make out the stony walls on each side of the road, mostly devoured by ivy and thickets. You had slowed down your pace, driving slowly in fear that a wild animal would suddenly jump in front the car, or that you would miss a random house set by the road.
It was also easier to focus on the silly story he was using to quieten your mind rather than to mention the reason behind this trip across the countryside.
You were leaving.
You were leaving Ireland to settle in Switzerland for a job. Or well, nothing was fixed for now, but you had an amazing opportunity. A first trip to the country to meet your future boss in person was planned for the following week, and at the end of these three days spent in Geneva, you had to sign your contract. You would then have about a month to find a place and move there.
So, you and your best friend had decided to enjoy a little road trip together. Driving all the way to the other side of the country. Staying at an Airbnb near the western coast. Enjoying four days together spent by the sea, the cliffs, and an awful lot of chips and beer.
You had been puzzled by Andrew’s reaction when you told him about your new job. He had seemed… unphased by it.
Of course, with his career, he was often away, and you were used not to live close to each other for long periods of time. Still, you were always one of the first people he visited whenever he was home. And while he stayed in Ireland, you spent most of your time together. As if he wanted to soak in as many moments as he could before he would leave again. And yet, when you told him that you would move to another country, he didn’t even blink. He gave you a smile, congratulated you, offered you a warm hug, and that was it. He asked about the job, about the place where you would live… and that was it. No disappointment in the thought of you leaving. No sadness at the thought of not having you around. No heartbreak whatsoever…
But then again, you were a fool for hoping that he would feel this way. Because he was… Andrew. Absolutely-lovely, amazing-hair, siren-voiced, hilariously-witty, unbearably-gentle Andrew. You had been friendzoned a few weeks after your first encounter, and you had no reason to believe that his feelings had changed. Actually, this new job, you took it as an opportunity to forget him. Move on. And not only because many miles would separate your homes, but because you weren’t leaving on your own.
Another one of your colleagues, Tom, had been approached by the same company as you had. He had already accepted the offer, and he was thrilled when he learned that you were leaving for Geneva as well. You knew he had a crush on you. He was pretty obvious about it. If he had never crossed a line, it was clear that he wanted you to give him a chance. And who knew? Perhaps this new beginning, with another man that you quite frankly found great, could mean you finally moving on from your stupid crush on your best friend. A new start, in another country. After spending a few weeks getting used to this new place, this new corporation, this new workplace… perhaps you would give Tom a chance. You desperately needed to forget Andrew, after all…
Of course, you didn’t know that you were completely, utterly wrong… about everything. That Andrew wanted to cry at the mere thought of you leaving. That he held you too tight and for too long that afternoon when, bathed in the neon light of your kitchen, you told him you were moving so far away from him, because he didn’t want you to see the tears in his eyes. He didn’t have the right to hold you back. He was but a friend to you, and friends needed to be supportive, and this was such a great opportunity for you, and… and he was only your friend.
Only your goddamn friend. As if Andrew hadn’t longed to be much more than that after a mere week spent in your company. But you had met before he would leave, touring for his second album, the timing was all wrong. He couldn’t ask you out for a couple of dates just to get you attached to him, before he would disappear for months on the other side of the planet. That wasn’t fair. He wanted to do things the right way. So, he kept his distance at first, unwilling to get too attached himself. But then, when he came home months later… you weren’t single anymore.
The fool… he had lost his chance. And over the years, the two of you had built such a great friendship that he didn’t want to take the risk anymore. Besides, he was certain that you didn’t see him this way. You had been in relationships, he had been in relationships… you had never showed any sign that would make him feel that he was more than a friend to you. Even when he tried to get you jealous, at the beginning, right after your break-up… but it didn’t work. The lure fell into the water in a deafening defeat, and he had made up both his mind and heart. You weren’t interested. He didn’t blame you. With his chaotic lifestyle.. who in their mind would settle for that?
Did it stop Andrew from still being in love with you, even after all this time? No, of course it did not. And the thought that you wouldn’t be home with him anymore…
He looked away, through the window, just to hide the tears that rose to his eyes all over again. He rested his elbow against the cold window, his lips to the back of his hand, biting lightly in the skin to calm down. He had no right to try to hold you back… no right at all… Was it your fault if he was enough of a fool to fall for his best friend? The cliché was almost too much to bear…
When he turned to you again, though, he couldn’t help the warm, fond feeling that invaded his chest at the sight of you. During the moment of silence you were both bathing into, disturbed solely by the wind and the tires over the frozen road, the night had almost conquered the last remnants of sunlight that lingered there, held against the eastern riff of the mountains. The headlights and the dim lights coming from the headboard were enough for him to see your features, though. They were enough for him to long to brush that strand of hair behind your ear, to lean across the car to kiss your cheek, to feel the warmth of your skin, even if for just a second, against his lips…
God, he didn’t want you to leave. What would he do if you left? When would you see each other? Never… If he spent so much time touring and you weren’t home…
God, he would move to Geneva with you if you asked. Even if it were to keep him as a mere friend, that was how badly he needed you in his life…
“Andy… I’m not sure I should keep driving…”
Andrew shook himself out of his thoughts, forced his attention back to the road ahead. You could barely see the road at all, as it was slowly turning white, just like the patches of grass between the road and the low walls…
Andrew shook his head.
“We can’t just stop in the middle of the road either. Just… drive slowly. Let’s try to find somewhere to park.”
You nodded, frowning in your focus.
You kept on driving for a while longer. The night was stark black when you finally found a small space by the road where you could safely park. There was still no house in sight, though… not that you could have seen anything beyond a five meters radius anyway…
You turned off the engine, let the lights go dark. Andrew turned on the light of his phone again.
“You should save some battery,” you argued.
“Got plenty, don’t worry.”
“So… now, what?”
“Now, we wait.”
“And if it keeps on snowing all night? Should we try to get some sleep?”
He merely nodded, setting his phone between the two of you to shed some light all over the tiny space of your car. Andrew reached behind him to get your coats from the backseat.
“We should put these on while they’re still warm.”
You didn’t complain when Andrew unfolded your warm coat, holding it up so you could easily slip your arms inside; nor did you stop him when he straightened it around your frame, reached for the zipper, and closed it for you.
And perhaps it would have been wiser for you to do so… but then again, you were human.
You were still trying to regulate your heartbeat while Andrew was putting on his own coat.
And for the first half-hour, everything was easy. You turned the engines back on for a few minutes when it got too cold, but in such a weather, you were worried your car wouldn’t start with a low battery. After all, it wasn’t exactly brand new.
“What if we get stuck in here?” you asked, worrying about the snow that didn’t give any sign of stopping.
“We’ll freeze to death, probably. At least the cold will preserve our bodies.”
“Good news for the police officer who’s gonna open the door. The smell won’t be too bad.”
“Exactly.”
“How long do you think before they find us?”
“Oh… at least a few weeks, if it snows enough.”
“Don’t you think anyone would notice a car covered in snow by the side of the road?”
“Not if there’s enough snow on it.”
You were the first to break, unable to be serious any longer. And Andrew’s laugh soon found yours, a deep rumble shaking the air around you.
“We won’t get fully snowed in,” Andrew reassured you as your laughter receded, in favour of the hushed quiet of winter. “Don’t worry. Besides, we’re not going to stay here all night. We’ll just wait until the worst of the storm passes. I can drive the rest of the way, if you want.”
“I can keep driving. I think I’ll try to take a nap while we wait though. I need to focus.”
Andrew merely nodded as an answer, adding a soft humming for good measure, before he would offer you a warm smile. He reached for something in his pocket, and put on a beanie and some gloves.
“I’ll keep an eye out,” he added, shifting to get more comfortable, the seatbelt since long discarded.
You tried to do the same, sliding the seat back to get more room to move around. Your eyes settled on Andrew’s features one more time before they closed.
But there was no way you could fall asleep. Beside your troubled mind, you were getting uncomfortably cold again. Enough for your teeth to chatter for a moment, until you tightly set your jaw.
You felt warm skin brush the back of your freezing fingers, heard the low, unapproving humming that Andrew let out at the touch.
“Take these, Y/N.”
You blinked your eyes open, while Andrew was already pushing a glove into your palm.
“You’ll be cold,” you argued, but you were met with a fond glare.
“You are cold.”
You gave up, took the gloves he offered. So large around your hands, the wool soft and still holding the warmth born from his own skin. You tried to stop him from planting his beanie on your head too, but failed.
“You need to stay warm! You’re a singer! You can’t catch a cold!” you tried to argue, but Andrew was already pulling the wool down to cover your ears.
“Don’t worry about me. I’m just fine. Besides, you’re the one who’s always cold.”
“Am not!”
“Are too! Who wears a woollen scarf in June?”
“It was cold!”
“You could turn into an ice cube if left unattended.”
With a great sense of maturity, you stuck out the tip of your tongue, making him chuckle.
It was better, but you were still cold, and so was Andrew now. He was shaking slightly, rubbing his hands together, burying his mouth and nose in his woollen grey scarf to warm it with his breath. But when he tried to shed some light outside again, the snow was still too heavy to drive safely.
“I can’t feel my fucking toes,” he complained, but there wasn’t much that you could do.
Except that you could. It was stupid, probably ineffective, but you were too cold to think straight.
“What if we hugged?”
Andrew let out a laugh.
“I like the sentiment, but that would hardly warm my toes.”
“Isn’t sharing body warmth a surviving technique?”
“Do I look like I would survive in the wild?”
“No, you would either bump your head in a branch so hard you’d knock yourself out to fall right into an endless pit… or you would be spotted by lions from miles away, you and your long limbs…”
“Exactly.”
There was silence again, for a couple of minutes, and you didn’t dare to break it. Instead, you let your eyelids fall again. He had refused to hold you, it was speaking volumes. What if you had made him uncomfortable? What were you expecting anyway? You were just a friend…
A gentle tug on your sleeve made you look up at him.
“Come here.”
“What?”
“We’re both cold, come here. You’re right, body heat sounds like a good idea.”
You joked in an attempt to hide the way your heart jumped in your chest.
“We both know you simply like to be held. Even by me.”
“Anything if I can avoid losing my toes.”
You wished you could claim that the manoeuvre that led you to lie with Andrew was a graceful one, but it truly wasn’t. After bumping into every surface possible and hitting your head against the ceiling twice, you were, however, finally secured in Andrew’s arms.
You moved around a little, trying to get comfortable, but in the tiny space of the passenger seat, there was nowhere for you to lay but on top of him.
If your nerves were getting the better of you at first, you couldn’t help but unwind as Andrew wrapped his arms around your frame, engulfing you within his embrace, pressing you closer to him, even though it didn’t seem possible.
He closed his eyes as he breathed in the sweet scent of your shampoo, but you didn’t notice. You didn’t notice either the way his heart sped up under his ribs, the way his breath caught in his throat. You never seemed to notice. Andrew reckoned that he was pretty obvious, although he did try to hide it all, but you never noticed anything. He couldn’t hide it, though. Even if this would lead nowhere, even if he didn’t stand a chance, he couldn’t help it. Loving you. In all the years he had known you, he had never been able to help it. Perhaps that was what love was all about. Loving beyond reason. Loving even when he wished he didn’t. Loving, and hurting, and having no regrets about it. Hurting, and being willing to go through all this pain all over again, for just a moment more…
He heaved a sigh without noticing, his eyelids lifting to be faced by a wall of darkness spotted with white snowflakes. He was ridiculous. You were leaving, that was the final proof he needed to be certain that he was nothing but a friend to you. If you felt anything for him, you wouldn’t be leaving… right? He had not left. He could have moved to the US a thousand times over, but you were in Ireland. Of course, you weren’t the only reason for him to stay, but you were easily the most important one, the one that carried the most weight.
What was the point of going home after a tour or a long recording session, if home wasn’t where you were?
Pathetic. That was what he was, pathetic…
Besides, you deserved better than what he could offer. Waiting for him for months on end? A constant back-and-forth between nations, a life stuck in a suitcase? No… no, you deserved better than that. Better than what he could offer you. Better than him…
And you were leaving. Final proof…
He held you tighter, and almost released it all in a breath.
Don’t go. Please, don’t go…
“Andy?”
He merely hummed in response.
“I’m pretty sure this is doing nothing to keep us warm.”
“I think it helps.”
“We’re wearing too many clothes.”
“Are you offering a game of strip-poker or something?”
You didn’t look up at him, face still buried in his shoulder, and yet he knew you were rolling your eyes.
“I must be crushing you.”
“You’re breaking all my bones, indeed.”
You tried to move away, but his hold tightened, and he looked down at you with confusion.
“What are you doing?”
“Saving your life? Avoiding you to be crushed to death?”
“I was joking. I’m alright.”
“Really?”
“Yeah… yeah, that’s… nice.”
You weren’t sure what to make of such comment, so you remained quiet instead, breathing deeply his scent, feeling it numb your senses.
“I’ve never seen such a snowstorm,” he pointed out, gaze lost into the darkness ahead.
“Me neither.”
“Not in this part of the world, at least.”
“Typical of Ireland to send me the storm of the century as a farewell gift.”
You felt Andrew tensing under you, his voice was colder than usual as he spoke, but you weren’t sure what to make of it.
“When will you leave? For good, I mean.”
“I have a month after this short stay to find myself a place to rent and get to work.”
“But you’ll come back to visit, right?”
“Yeah, of course! I mean… when I’m on vacation. To see my family.”
“Will I get some free housing in Geneva, then?”
“You thief, as usual.”
“You know me. Always the rascal.”
You closed your eyes as he started to rub your back, the gesture gentle and amazingly soothing.
“Aren’t you afraid to go there on your own?”
“Yeah… yeah, a little bit,” you admitted in a breath. “But… at least Tom will be there.”
“Tom?”
“Yeah, you know? My colleague? He’s very nice, I like him a lot. We’re leaving together.”
His tall frame tensed again, you caught the way his breath staggered.
“What do you mean Tom is leaving too?”
You stared into his hazel eyes; these eyes you dreamt of at night, the ones you adored. They had taken the hue of leaves before Autumn, deep green in a ray of sunshine. They always did when tears came to his eyes. And indeed, you were surprised as you fell into his gaze to find it blurred with tears.
“You… you’re leaving with him?” he asked, voice deeper than usual, shaky, vulnerable.
You were aware, now more than ever, of how close you were. You stared up at him, lost in his eyes, and you thought of how it would be so easy to lean up and kiss him, make his frown melt away, shush his worry with your lips…
“I thought… why…?”
You shrugged, unsure of what he meant to say.
“We’ve been approached by the same company. We’ll both move to Geneva.”
“Together?!”
“I mean… at the same time, yes.”
“But you’re…”
So that was it then… you had found someone else again. And this time you were leaving in another country with this man and…
And Andrew had lost you for good.
He was only too aware of how close the two of you were, of how easy it would have been to simply lean down to kiss you. Press his lips to yours, forget you were choosing someone else…
But he couldn’t forget. He couldn’t take it.
Instead of leaning closer, he pushed you away.
“Get off.”
You frowned at the roughness in his voice, the coldness in his tone, and Andrew wished he could control himself, be gentle, the way you deserved, but he needed to get away if he wanted to keep breathing…
“Please, get off me.”
You blinked tears away, and he hated himself for being the cause of such a sight, but he didn’t stop you when you ungracefully pushed yourself back into the driver’s seat. And Andrew watched as you stared at him, expectant, like you didn’t understand that you were breaking his heart in a million pieces…
And he couldn’t take it.
You were so surprised when Andrew opened the door and climbed out of the car that you didn’t stop him. He was already out of sight when you shook yourself enough to grab his phone, the only source of light available, and jumped out of the car as well.
The wind was bitterly cold as it assailed your cheeks, the snow rough and sharp digging into your skin.
“ANDREW!”
You hurried around the car, struggling with the slippery ground.
Above the wind, there was nothing to be heard but your own voice. Betrayed by the night, even this sound seemed to fade too fast to reach anything out of your sight. And Andrew was nowhere to be seen, the darkness too thick for that, the elements howling too loudly.
“ANDREW!”
A thud. A groan. A hiss. You followed the sounds in a hurry, and sure enough, mere seconds were needed to find your friend half-lying in the snow, a hand gripping at the low stone wall.
“ANDY!”
You kneeled by his side, uncaring of the sharp sting of the frozen ground under your knees.
“Are you alright?”
But he nodded, without a word. He seemed in pain, you brushed a loose strand of his hair behind his ear, and he leaned into your touch without noticing.
“You’re okay? What the fuck are you doing?!”
“You’re leaving for him, right?”
“What on earth are you talking about?!”
“TOM! FUCKING TOM!”
He moved away from your touch, but winced as he leaned against the wall. Your eyes grew round in worry, and when you turned the light towards the stones, there were traces of blood there.
“Oh God… Andy, you’re hurt!”
“It’s nothing,” he shook his head.
“Let me see…”
But he stood up instead, and you followed close. He was towering you, the way he always did. The difference in height had not been so obvious in the car, but now, he was standing before you in his full, impressive height, and the way he glared made it more intimidating than usual.
“You’re really leaving for a fucking guy you met at work?!”
You frowned, shaking your head.
“Andy, I’m not…”
“Have you lost your fucking mind?!”
“Andy…”
“For how long have you two even been together?”
“We’re not! We’re not together.”
It was his time to frown in confusion.
“What?”
“Tom and I, we’re not together. We’ve been approached by the same company, that’s all. Although, if I’m being honest… I might give him a chance.”
“What?”
You noticed how he was out of breath, of course you did. He didn’t seem angry anymore, just…sad. Unbearably sad…
“Well, he’s nice… and… I know he likes me. But… can we go back to the car now?”
“Don’t go with him.”
You stared up at him, his hair messed by the wind as more strands were breaking free from his bun. Snowflakes stained the dark locks with white. Some got caught in his long eyelashes. The biting cold was turning his sharp cheekbones red. In the dim light, you couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of his mouth, even though you could see the lips moving with the vowels, closing with consonants…
“Don’t go. Y/N… don’t go.”
These were words you were longing to hear, and yet, now that he was finally speaking them out loud, you couldn’t take them in.
He had acted like he didn’t care for weeks, and now, all of a sudden, he claimed that he was hurting?
“That’s rich coming from someone who spends barely any time home.”
You knew you were being mean, and you felt guilty as a shock of pain ran through Andrew’s features, enough so to bring tears back in his eyes. Still, you didn’t take your words back.
“That’s not the same. This… this is still my home.”
“This is a great opportunity for my career. This would be a new start. I’m excited about it. And Tom is nice. He likes me. He wants me…”
“You’re saying that like you don’t have a family and friends and people who love you already.”
“You know what I mean. This is a great opportunity, Andy. I want to take it.”
You noticed the way he clenched his jaw, the way the muscle jumped there as he lowered his gaze to the ground, nodding slowly.
“You’re right… that’s a great opportunity. You should take it…”
But instead of you agreeing, he was surprised as you huffed in annoyance, and turned your back to him.
“Get your arse back in the car, come on.”
“Y/N…”
“I don’t understand what you want, Andy!” you hissed as you turned back to him, and he hated the sharpness in your voice, it felt like a knife. “You act like you don’t give two fucks about me leaving for weeks! And now… now you’re acting like you want me to stay…!”
“Of course, I want you to stay! But I’m your friend, I’m supposed to be here for you, and to support you and encourage you…”
“So you’re glad that I’m leaving?” your voice rising into a shout, and his tone matched yours when he answered, making you tremble under his deep, powerful voice.
“Of course not! Are you listening to yourself?! Why would I want you to move to fucking Geneva!”
“Because you didn’t say a thing about it!” you were crying, but you didn’t even notice, too busy letting your feelings out, at long last. “Because everyone else tried to convince me to stay, and you didn’t!”
“I tried to be supportive!”
“Well, I didn’t want you to supportive!”
“What did you want then?!”
“The truth!”
“Well, I don’t want you to leave! Here’s your fucking truth! And I don’t want you to leave with fucking Tom! I want you to choose me!”
He was out of breath now, and as he moved closer to you and the light you still held tightly in your hand, you finally noticed that he was crying as well.
“Choose you?” you asked, confused and slightly calmer, even if your voice kept on shaking. “Why would you want me to choose you…?”
“BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!”
The words were out before he could hold them in; failing this time at this game he had played a thousand times before, every time the words almost slipped out, when he bit his tongue until it hurt so you wouldn’t hear his heart. Your eyes grew round like you were surprised, shocked even, like this was not the most obvious truth in the world, like he had not spent years loving you in secret, leaving traces of his bleeding heart all over the place…
He almost wanted to laugh at you, at your round eyes and parted lips and all that snow caught in your hair and the way he longed to kiss that shock off your face. He didn’t though. Because you took a step back, and he read fear in your eyes, and he realised then that you were slipping away, sand between his fingers although he tried to hold tight.
“Y/N…” he breathed, voice taken away by the wind before it could reach you.
You hurried to the car instead of answering, and he followed you this time, shivering in the cold. And once you were back in the safety of your vehicle, the seats had lost their warmth, and the tiny space between the two of you seemed unbearably vast, a chasm you would never be able to close or cross.
You were both staring out by the windshield, while the snow finally receded. You could start driving again…
“Can you say something?”
“We should try to drive again.”
“Y/N… please…”
But as you turned to him, it was to stare at his palm, not his gaze.
“You’re bleeding.”
Andrew followed your gaze, looked down at his own hand. There was a long cut across the palm, red with blood, darkened with dirt on some spots. In the dim light, it was hard to tell how deep the cut was. It hurt, that was for sure. And yet, he didn’t care. You were more painful than an open wound.
“It’s nothing…”
“Let me see.”
You took off the gloves he had lent you, and Andrew didn’t have the strength to stop you as you gently reached for his hand, cradled it in yours, held it to the light to get a better view. Your skin was warm and soft against his cold one, and the thought that you could hate him, that you could resent him for sharing feelings he knew as unrequited made the tenderness of your hold almost unbearable.
“How did you hurt yourself?”
“I slipped in the snow. Caught myself to the wall. Sharp stone.”
You heaved a sigh, the sound was almost annoyed, but not quite. More like… worried.
“Hold the light, would you?”
He didn’t think as he obeyed, yielding to your will, the way he always did. You grabbed a bottle of water and some tissues from the glove box, and started to slowly clean up his cut. You were leaning closer to do so, and Andrew couldn’t help himself as he leaned forward as well, longing for your nearness, basking in the touch of your hand as it came back to cradle his, drawn to you like a moth to a flame.
The breath he let out before speaking again was shaking.
“Do you hate me?”
You looked up, seemed to realize how close the two of you were. You could easily lean up and kiss him, and he could easily lean down and press his lips to yours. Instead, you both remained motionless, perfectly still, merely staring while he waited for an answer you thought was too obvious to be spoken.
“Why would I?” you asked back.
“Because… because we’re friends. And I caught feelings. And… maybe you hate me now that you know that I don’t… I don’t see a friend in you at all. Now that you know that I lied.”
But you didn’t answer, instead, you lowered your gaze again, and Andrew jumped and let out a hiss as you pressed the wet tissues against his broken skin.
“I’m not angry,” you finally reassured him. “I’m just… I don’t really believe you, I think.”
“What? Why wouldn’t you?”
You shrugged, and despite your claim of being calm, the smile that formed on your lips was bitter when you spoke.
“For how long have we been friends? And you’ve never said anything? Never felt anything, until I decided to go away? And now, all of sudden, you’re catching feelings?”
“I’ve never said these feelings were new.”
“You friendzoned me, back in the days. Do you remember that?”
Andrew winced, but nodded anyway.
“This… this was different.”
“Because I was just a friend?”
“Because I was the one leaving. Because it wasn’t fair to ask you out just to disappear for months while I was touring.”
Finally, you looked up again, trying to read something in his eyes, and whatever it was, Andrew hoped that you would find it there. He hoped you could see that he was being earnest, that he meant it, that there was no doubt to have. He had never doubted his love for you, even if he had refrained it. It had been a truth he had relied on for years. With a bit of luck, you might want to rely on it too…
“But then you came back… why didn’t you say anything then?”
“You weren’t single anymore. It was my turn to get friendzoned.”
The ghost of a smile formed on his lips, a soothing offering. But it was sad all the same.
“And after that?”
“After that… you were already my best friend. You… I didn’t want to lose you. And you… you deserved better than that. You deserve better than what I can give you. Waiting around while I disappear for months, what kind of life is that?”
You stopped breathing as he lifted his unharmed hand up to your face, brushing his fingertips across your cheek, the way he had longed to for years.
If his heart was staggering behind his ribs, if his breath was caught in his throat because of this gentle touch of your skin, when he closed his eyes to gather his strength, there was a tear breaking free.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I know you don’t feel the same,” he shook his head as he opened his eyes again, falling into your gaze, and he saw there the same tears he tried to withhold in his own eyes. “I know it’s a one-sided thing. I didn’t… I didn’t want to break everything. I’m sorry.”
He was surprised when you shook your head and leaned into his touch, forcing his hand to open so he could cradle your face in his palm, long fingers disappearing into your hair and tenderly brushing your skin.
“God, you’re such an idiot.”
He raised a surprised eyebrow, not daring to move or reply. You started laughing, and he was at a loss.
“We’re both so damn stupid!”
He had to blink to make sure that he wasn’t imagining your movement as you slowly closed the gap between the two of you, as you leaned up to meet him. He was too surprised by it to meet you halfway; he was too taken aback by the feeling of your lips against his to kiss you back. It took him a couple of seconds to process that this was truly happening, that he was not, in fact, lost in one of the many dreams he’d had of this moment. But then your hand was in the mess of his curls, and you were pressing your lips more firmly against his, and he allowed himself to believe that you wanted this as well, that perhaps he had been, indeed, such an idiot for failing to see what was right in front of him, the same way you had missed all of his gestures along the years.
And you wished you could admit to yourself that you were keeping control over the situation, having instigated the kiss, but you melted into his touch the second Andrew responded and kissed you back. His hold on your face tightened slightly, a tinge of desperation held in the gesture. You tightened your hold on his wounded hand, and he responded by twisting his wrist until he could hold onto your hand too. You chased after him as he pulled away, but he left only for a second, just long enough to tilt his head slightly to the side, bettering the angle of his next kiss so he could deepen it. And the second you could properly taste him on your tongue, you lost track of everything but him: the warmth of his scent, the softness of his touch, the smoothness of his skin, his curls running through your fingers, the gentle scratching of his beard, and the overwhelming feeling of being kissed by him. The feelings he poured into the intimate gesture… no one had ever kissed you like that before…
When you broke apart, at long last, both of you breathless, blinking the dizziness of the kiss away in an attempt to find back an earthly footing, Andrew pressed his forehead to yours, afraid, perhaps, that if he got too far, he would wake.
“I don’t see you as a mere friend either, in case that was still unclear,” you clarified, tone half-joking, making him smile.
“Right…”
“You’re okay?”
“Just… trying to assess whether I’m awake or dreaming right now.”
Playfully, you pinched his shoulder, making both of you laugh.
“Awake,” you confirmed. “Even your wild imagination could not have pictured the storm of the century as a background for our first kiss.”
“First? Can I have another, then?”
You couldn’t refrain a giggle, gently shaking your head at him, brushing your nose against his in the process.
“A true thief, as always.”
“Of the worst kind only.”
His thumb caressed your cheekbone, soft touch across your soft skin, making your eyes flutter shut as your heart lost its rhythm.
“If you want to take this job in Geneva, we can still make it work.”
You lifted your eyelids again and pulled back, just to fall right into his hazel eyes.
“Just… don’t choose Tom…”
You shook your head, giving him a reassuring smile. Your hands moved to hold his face in both of your palms, to make sure he would keep staring at you as you answered.
“Fuck Tom. Fuck Geneva. I’d rather go on a date with you.”
Andrew let out a chuckle, eyes crinkling as he smiled. Still, he had tears in his eyes all over again.
“You said it yourself, though. It’s a great opportunity for you.”
“I want to stay. If we give this a try, I want to stay.”
“Y/N…”
“I’m sure.”
“I’ll be away for months…”
“And you’ll be the one paying for the plane tickets, I’m not emptying my bank account when I’ve got a millionaire as a boyfriend.”
You both laughed, and Andrew nodded, at last.
“Fair enough.”
You were about to speak but didn’t have the time, Andrew was leaning to kiss you again instead, and you couldn’t complain, didn’t want to stop his fall towards your mouth.
He hissed and pulled away too fast though, after mere seconds, looking down at his wounded palm that he had tried to press against your back.
“I should clean this up, and then we can keep on driving,” you proposed, and Andrew agreed with a nod, obediently holding his hand still while you took care of him. He did lean to kiss your forehead a couple of times though, and you were both still quite amazed that he could do it, or that he wanted to.
You would have to get used to it though. After the storm had passed, after you had found your way back onto the right road, after you had reached your destination, there was plenty of time to talk, to confess feelings you had both refrained for too long, for holding onto each other too tightly, for kissing until lips were bruised and numb and yet still willing.
Perhaps, this trip was not such a disaster, after all…
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futuremrsreid · 1 year
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Redemption (S.R.)
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Summary: When Spencer risks his life on a case and doesn't want to see how dangerous it was, reader tries to talk some sense into him. It results in a lot of yelling and some other things.
A/N: So..... smutty angst, as promised <3 I hurt myself while writing this. Enjoy.
Content Warning: Smut (18+), very very mildly dubious consent, a bit of dark Spencer but he's just traumatized, angst, sad, dominant Spencer, kinda sub reader
Word Count: 4,1k
I was pissed. Actually, pissed didn’t even begin to describe the rage I felt at that moment. 
We were currently in Florida, hunting another psychopathic bastard as always. Everything was fine and under control, up until the moment Dr. Spencer fucking Reid decided it would be a good idea to drive to the unsubs location alone because he was “closest to him” and because we “didn’t have time” and nearly got himself killed in the process. Luke and I had arrived just in time to prevent disaster, but Spencer still got a few bruises on his face. 
I was furious and let him feel it by yelling at him while he was getting checked out in the ambulance. But like always, my yelling resulted in his yelling. We went at it for a couple of minutes but Emily put a stop to it before it got really bad, concerned about the reporters at the scene who already started to take a few pictures of us.
:keep reading:
We didn’t talk or look at each other for the rest of the case. Emily let Spencer get away with it because everything turned out fine, but I was not feeling gracious. 
When Garcia informed us that there was a storm that would delay our flight for the next couple of hours, Emily decided that we should just spend another night in the city and fly back in the morning. We all drove back to the hotel and when we arrived, I was on Spencer's heels all the way from the car to his room. He didn’t even try to stop me, he knew there was no point to it.
“That was so fucking irresponsible, Spencer! What were you thinking”, I started to yell as soon as I had closed the door behind me. I wanted to say “stupid” instead of “irresponsible” but decided against it. I wanted him to understand that he can’t do shit like this, and not insult him.
“It worked out fine, y/n. I don’t understand why you’re getting yourself worked up over this!” He rubbed his hand over the side of his face, clearly done listening to me.
“It only worked out fine because Luke broke like every rule you can break in traffic to get to the scene as fast as possible!”
“Oh right, Luke, my hero. I should go thank him, don’t you think?” he chuckled humorlessly and rolled his eyes.
“Maybe! He’s the reason you’re not dead.” I tried lowering my voice. This wasn’t our first fight, and I have learned in the past that screaming won’t help.
“I would have been fine! I had it under control, y/n. God, just leave me alone”, he spat and I felt a stabbing in my chest at the way he didn’t want to see how much danger he put himself in.
This wasn’t the first time he risked his life like that and I hated it. All of us hated it. Spencer seemed drawn to dangerous situations, it had been that way when I joined the team and from stories the others told me, it had been this way before that.
When I met Spencer, he was freshly out of Prison. They hired me together with Matt after Agent Walker died. The first time I saw him, I knew I had to befriend him. What I didn’t know was how easy it would be and how much easier it would be to fall in love with him. 
I tried to push it down, to get rid of it, scared that it would ruin everything, but there was no way of falling out of love with him, which made the situation even harder. Spencer didn’t seem to realize how much he hurt me whenever he risked his life like this. I wasn’t even sure he realized how much I cared about him. 
“I’m not going to leave until you admit that you were wrong.” 
“Well, this is going to be a long night then, because that’s never gonna happen.” He turned and walked away from me, removing his suit jacket and draping it over one of the chairs in his room. I sighed.
“Spencer, you need to stop risking your life like this. You're gonna get yourself killed”, I pleaded, but it fell on deaf ears. I tried to get him to look at me, but he avoided my eyes. “Please. I can’t lose you and especially not like that.”
“The day will come when you and the rest of the team realize that this is exactly the way it is supposed to end for me. Dying in the field would be an honorable death. It’s the only redemption I will ever get.” 
“What?”, I breathed and my heart stopped for a moment, “What do you mean, Spencer?”
“I meant what I said.” 
“Redemption? What redemption, Spence? You don’t need any, you haven’t done anything wrong.” I was confused and hurt by the way he said it. It sounded almost suicidal. 
“Yes, I have. I have done horrible things in my life, y/n. I will never be able to make up for them.” 
“You don’t have to! Everyone makes mistakes. You are a good person Spencer. You’re kind and gentle, you saved hundreds of lives in your career, you don’t need to make up for anything.” I tried to get through to him, but it was like I was hitting a wall.
“Prison changed me, it turned me into a different man. I’m not nearly as gentle or kind as I used to be.”
“I don’t know you any other way. I almost can’t imagine you being even more gentle than you are now. I don’t think anyone can be.”
“I was though”, he countered almost immediately, still unable to look at me, “I think you would have liked the man I was. He was gentler, kinder, and more deserving of you than I could ever be now.” He didn’t even sound sad when he said it, almost like he had accepted his truth from the moment he met me. 
“You know, you talk about yourself like you are the worst man in the world”, I said in an accusatory tone.
“Am I not?”, Spencer scoffed, raising his voice slightly while going on, “We hunt terrible men every day but in the end, how different am I from them? What makes me a good man and them a bad one, y/n?” He was almost yelling now, stunning me for a moment too long. When I didn’t reply, he turned to finally look at me. “Tell me y/n, what is it about me that convinces you I’m not every bit as bad as them?” The desperate look on his face made me take a step toward him but for every step I took, he stepped two back.
“Spencer, I-” My voice faltered and I didn’t know what to say. I knew he wasn’t anything like them but I wasn’t able to find any words that would convince him. When my mouth stayed open but no words left it, he took my silence as an invitation to go on.
“I almost killed Cat Adams, did JJ ever tell you that?” He spat, walking over to me and pushing me back until I hit the wall. 
“I put my hands around her throat and choked her until she was clawing at my wrists. And I didn’t stop then”, he moved even closer to me and I was unable to move away, the words leaving his mouth freezing me into place, “I told her that I was going to kill her and I meant it. I would have strangled her if JJ hadn’t pulled me off her.” He moved even closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Her eyes were filled with fear, and you know what? I enjoyed it, y/n. I loved the way I scared her, the way she struggled for her life against me.”
He leaned in and I felt his breath ghost over my ear when he said the last words of his cruel monologue. “So tell me, y/n. Tell me how different I am from those men.”
He stayed where he was, his hands at his side and his mouth grazing my ear. He was trying to intimidate me with his speech and to be honest, he would have convinced me if it hadn’t been for the way his nose brushed against my hair, inhaling my scent like he was convinced this was the last chance he ever had to commit it to memory. 
“You can’t scare me with your words, Spencer. If you want me to believe how terrible of a person you are, you’re gonna have to show me because I will never believe it otherwise.” He probably calculated every possible outcome of this situation, but when he pulled back to look at me, I knew that he didn’t expect me to respond like this.
“Cat Adams is a monster who had you tortured and assaulted. She kidnapped your mother. Do you really expect me to feel bad for her? I never even met her. If you want to scare me away, you’re gonna have to do better than that.” 
There was a long moment of silence where we just watched each other. I thought I managed to break through to him for a second, but Spencer was on a mission to make me despise him, and he was determined to make it happen. His eyes darkened and he straightened up, towering over me.
I felt a sliver of doubt about my faith in him at that moment and he must have seen it cross my eyes because when I lifted a hand to push him back, he harshly grabbed my wrist and spun me around, using his body to push me against the wall. My arm was twisted behind my back and when I started to struggle out of pure instinct he took my other wrist in his hand and held both my arms behind my back, resulting in me being pushed more into the hard surface, my cheek flush against the wall.
When the shock had left me, I opened my mouth to ask him what the fuck he was doing, but Spencer was faster than me. He took his other hand and held it over my mouth.
“Do you believe me now?”, he whispered in my ear and I felt my pulse quickening. “You are so fucking naive y/n and honestly, you’re a little stupid too. What the fuck makes you think I would never hurt you, huh? You don’t know me.” 
It was those last words that took me back to reality because I did know him. I knew the way he brought everyone on the team their favorite food when they were sad. I knew the way his voice got an octave higher when he started talking about something that excited him. 
I knew the way he recited his favorite poems when I struggled to go to sleep after a tough case.
He won't hurt me. 
He would never hurt me.
He would never do something like this.
So, against every instinct in my body, I tried to calm my heart down and closed my eyes. I tried to speak but his hand on my mouth didn’t let me so I jerked my head back and stunned him with my sudden movement long enough to say a few words I knew he definitely didn't want to hear.
“You are all talk Spencer Reid. You would never hurt me and we both know that”, my voice was louder than I had expected and I felt his hand tighten around my wrists, “You can push me against the wall and insult me and tell me the terrible things you could do to me all you want but we both know that you would never lay a hand on me without my permission and you would never hurt someone who didn’t deserve it.”
His hand loosened and I used this opportunity to free myself of his grip and turn around. He was angry that his plan didn’t work and I saw his hands twitch with restraint, but I wasn’t scared of him. 
He had just proved to me that he was the man I knew he was.
“You’re not an abuser, you’re not a rapist-”
“Shut up.”
“- and you’re not a murderer. That’s what makes you different Spencer.”
“I said shut up!”, he yelled and I did the only thing I knew to do in response to that. I yelled back.
“Or what, Spencer? Are you gonna pin me against the wall and put your hand against my mouth again like the bad person you are, huh?” Spencer got angrier and more frustrated with every word I was saying but I was determined to speak my mind, “You’re gonna shut me up like the scary man you are, Dr. Reid? You’re gonna-” But I didn’t get further than that because in a heartbeat he forced me back against the wall again with his hands on both my cheeks and his lips pressed against mine.
He pulled back, “Please y/n, please shut up”, and the desperate tone in his voice awakened something primal in me.
“If you want me to shut up, you’re gonna have to make me because I will never stop trying to convince you that you are a good man, Spencer.” When he didn’t say anything I went on. “You are kind and gentle and-” 
He kissed me again, and this time I kissed him back until I wasn’t able to breathe anymore. His kisses wandered to my neck then.
“You say I am a good man, but you don’t know the things I thought about doing to you”, he bit the skin on my neck then and I gasped, which seemed to spur him on further, “I want to pin you down and fuck you until you’re crying. I want to make you feel so good that you can’t take it anymore.”
His kisses moved up my neck and to my ear. “ I want to break you into a thousand pieces and put you back together again. I want to ruin you for everyone else, I want to lock you in so that no man can ever look at you again and at the same moment I want to show you off to the entire world because you are the best thing in my life. I want to take you and make you mine”, he cried out, holding my hips in a bruising grip.
“Then take me, Spencer. Take me, break me, ruin me, I don’t care. I am already yours. I have been yours since the moment I met you.” He looked me in the eyes then, searching for any lies, any doubt, and when he didn’t find any, he kissed me another time.
“Say it again”, he demanded and let his hands travel down my body.
“I am yours, Spencer.”
“Again.” His hands roughly shoved up my skirt, his breath warm on my neck.
“I’m yours.” When his hand brushed against the damp panties I was wearing, I sucked in a breath.
“Again.” 
“I’m yours, Spencer. Only yours. Now please do something.” My plea seemed to finally push him over the edge because a second later he was moving the cotton aside and his fingers met wet skin.
He told me “Again.” over and over again, but the longer his fingers were moving inside of me, and the louder the sounds of my pleasure got, the more his demanding turned into begging and it wasn’t until I felt my orgasm wash over me, that he stopped our back and forth to press his lips against mine once more. 
My legs were trembling when he removed his hand from my cunt and the way he looked at me while bringing the same fingers that were inside of me moments ago to my lips didn’t help steady them.
He didn’t need to say anything, I knew exactly what he wanted. I don’t think he was quite prepared for the sight before him when my lips accepted his fingers and my tongue swirled around them though, because Spencer's eyes became even more feral at it.
“Fuck.” He removed his fingers and in only a few seconds removed my shirt, took off my bra, and had my skirt on the floor. I tried taking off his clothes too, but when my fingers started to unbutton his shirt, he gripped my wrists and walked me over to the bed. 
“If I had known that our fight would end in us having sex, I would have waited until we had something better available than a cheap hotel bed”, I breathed out a laugh. I figured he’d laugh as well but he returned a soft “Do you want to stop?”
“God no, but this bed is gonna squeak really loudly”, and this time I was met with a laugh. He didn’t interrupt when I started another attempt to undress him. When I was done with his shirt he finally raised his hands to touch me again and my whole body shivered when his palms made contact with my breasts. Feeling my erect nipples on his skin must have awoken yet another thing in him because the next thing I knew he was throwing me onto the bed. I didn’t even have time for a shocked gasp before he was on me, pinning my wrists down on the mattress.
“You know when I told you I want to ruin you”, he said while letting his hands travel down my body to grip the waistband of my panties, “I really did mean it.” And with that, he ripped the cotton apart and threw it to the side.
He continued to deny me any time for a reaction when he grabbed my thighs and pulled me towards him. His hips took their very rightful place between my thighs and pressed against me. 
We both moaned when his covered bulge pressed against wet and hot skin.
“Beg me to fuck you, y/n.” I think he was expecting me to hesitate, but I was desperate for him to touch me.
“Please fuck me, Spencer,” I moaned and ran my nails down his back.
“Huh, I thought you would put up more of a fight, to be honest.” He sounded disappointed, but his eyes told me that he was relieved I wanted this just as much as he did.
“Do you want me to?”, I still asked, wanting to give him everything he yearned for. 
“Another time. I think we dragged this out long enough for today”, he said and with that, he took off his underwear and I got to see all of him for the first time. I knew he would be beautiful, and it applied to any part of him, but I couldn’t fully conceal my shock at the length of him. 
And that smug bastard smirked. “Don’t worry darling, we'll make it fit.”
And with that, he moved back between my thighs and lined himself up with my entrance. I expected him to at least try and tease me a little but he started to push inside me immediately. 
We locked eyes while we both felt inch after inch of him sink inside of me. It was intense, erotic and so intimate that I felt the urge to look away. He must have felt it too, because when he was fully buried inside of me, his lips pressed against mine in a bruising way.
When he started to move and his lips started their way down to my jaw and neck, I completely lost it, moans and whimpers flowing from my mouth in a volume that even surprised myself. Spencer thrust harder and deeper the louder I became.
“I know you were worried about the bed being too loud, but I’m pretty sure your moans are covering that sound up pretty successfully, angel”, he panted with a labored breath and heat rose to my cheeks. I was trying to remember if any of our coworkers shared any walls with Spencers' room, but he was literally fucking me stupid so I just removed a hand from his back and bit down on my fingers, hoping no one has heard yet. When Spencer saw, he slowed down. He reached down the side of the bed and lifted up my torn panties, and then proceeded to remove my finger from my mouth to push the cotton in its place. “There, now you won't have to hurt your finger”, and with that, he picked up a brutal pace again.
He was muffling his own moans by pressing his mouth onto my shoulder, no doubt leaving behind a dozen of hickeys. He was losing it, I could feel it in the way he pushed his fingers into my hips and the muscles in his back tensing. I wasn’t doing much better, my thighs were trembling and my panties were barely concealing my noises anymore. The room smelt like sweat and sex, Spencer’s skin was hot on mine and I never felt more whole in my life. I could feel my orgasm building inside of me.
“Touch yourself for me, angel. I want you to come with me.” I didn’t hesitate and started rubbing circles over my clit. It only took a few moments until my orgasm washed over my entire body and Spencer quickly ripped my gag from my mouth to kiss me. My thighs and cunt clenching around him, pulling him into me as deep as humanly possible, must have pushed him over the edge because after a few more strokes he stilled at my deepest point and came.
He released my lips from his and put his forehead on mine so we could both catch our breaths. It was quiet for a few minutes. I could feel his cum dripping out of me between our bodies and spared a quick thought to the poor person that would have to clean these sheets. I couldn’t bring myself to care though, not with the way he kissed my skin and nuzzled his face into my neck. I moved a hand to his hair to run my fingers through it, the strands curling once again from sweat wetting them.
“Tell me again.” He spoke so softly I almost didn’t hear, and I’m not sure I was supposed to. It took me a moment to realize what he meant but when I did, I moved my mouth to whisper in his ear.
“I’m yours, Spencer. As long as you’ll have me.”
“Forever then?”, he pulled away to look at me, but before I could answer, there was a knock at the door.
“Ayo Spencer, are you and y/n still fighting? We decided to go to a bar a few blocks away, but you’re only allowed to come if you don’t put us all in a pissy mood”, Luke's voice seeped through the door. I could feel Spencer trying to come up with a reply but before he had a chance, I spoke up.
“Actually, Luke, we’re still in the middle of fighting and I don’t think you want either of us there with you right now.” I tried to sound mad and I must have been convincing enough because even Spencer furrowed his brows at the tone in my voice. I smiled at him and trailed a hand up his arm to reassure him that I was just putting up a show.
“Well, okay just… Try to remember you two are friends and don’t actually want to kill each other”, he replied almost nervously. Damn, we must have really worried the team with our fight this time.
When we heard his footsteps moving away, Spencer started to detangle us from each other. He was still inside of me and when he pulled out, I sighed at the empty feeling it left behind.
“I’m gonna get something to clean you up.” He tried to stand up but he didn’t get very far before I pulled him back. I held his face in my hands and made sure he was looking at me when I said the words I know he desperately needed to hear.
“Forever.”
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mekatrio · 4 months
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cuz at first ajaa wasnt even meant to exist it was just meant to be the trilogy and thats it, then while theyre porting it over to the nintendo ds capcom gives them the green light to go nuts with a bonus pseudo-dlc case and By God Do They, making the longest case yet of RFTA with fully animated 3d cutscenes + an incredibly convoluted plot that makes the most out of aa1's 3 day trial system + fully modelled 3d rotational evidence, hitting heavy themes of police corruption and evidence forgery and whatnot like they went INSANE, cuz this was supposed to be IT. this was supposed to be ace attorneys big finale and farewell but SIKE oh my god the actual Ministry Of Justice has knocked on capcoms door and told them hey can you make some propaganda for us. so now the aa team has to make propaganda for them. right after burning themselves the fuck out from creating rfta. all that time spent on rfta which couldve been development time for ajaa.... too late. cant be taken back. apollo justice is designed in less than a week and theyre marketing this game while the team is still making it, takumi crazed madman that he is decides to not rely on old characters which while that is an artistic slay, sets up the stage for a marketing failure, and a new artistic team of infinite ambition goes nuts with creating derangedly detailed animations
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⬆️ like oh my god are you insane. thank you so much BUT ARE YOU INSANE? all while still making 3d renders of evidence and random 3d animations and it looks so awesome BUT THERES NOT ENOUGH TIME, 3 wonderful cases are made but 4-4 falls on its face. 6 hours long instead of the usual 10 and only one cross-examination in the final trial and 2 whole main characters with no backstory like its bad. its going to be bad. but its too late. the most incomplete ace attorney game has to be rushed out of the gates and the sales are made But The Reception Is Bad. Real Bad. 2000s hater gamer crowds were the first of its kind, being massively fuelled by the internet, haters back then could sink their teeth deep into a company, which is what got nintendo scrambling away from their wind waker art direction to appease the gamers w twilight princess. so similarly when the hate for ajaa came on, cuz whattt phoenix disbarred and no 😤 old characters 😤😤, capcom scrambled to appease the masses. but oh oh whats this? takumi says 'yeahhhh Nah' and says he wants to make a game about his dog. OK. cant persuade him away from that. might as well let some new blood handle the franchise in takumi's place then, but for The Love Of God do not make an ajaa followup. the gamers will kill us. and so the aai duology was born....... cool........ first one's reception was so bad that localization plans were dropped entirely for the sequel. wow. takumi is fresh off from ghost trick but fucking what, 5 years has passed now, and the new hot console is the nintendo THREE ds. 3ds. wowwww. fucking... PROFESSOR LAYTON kidnaps takumi to make plvpwaa and ajaa continues to be left in the dust. fucking nobody wants him. poor orphaned kitten left in the street. all while the trilogy gets 9584948 million adaptations. and yamazaki twiddles his thumbs thinking abt making aai3 but after thinking it over hes like yeah ill try making aa5. capcom lets him and.......... its over........ they tell him sure go for it But Do Not Follow Up On Apollo Everyone Hates Him please make phoenix the protag. a recipe for disaster. and a disaster aa5 is. juggling THREE protags a complete mess and they do a popularity poll and wow would u look at who came first, fucking APOLLO. JUSTICEEEEEEE. its almost like.... gamers opinions..... are not valuable in the long run.. and popular opinion has never signified artistic understanding.... aa6 comes chugging along and yamazaki addicted to racism cranks out something even worse. both aa56 makes the sales it needs but mindless fanservice can only get u so far... its been nearly 10 years since the ajaa 'trilogy' titles released and the general consensus is that Aaja Was Good and aa56 Not So Much but what can you do now? heres the apollo justice trilogy please buy it and deeply lower ur expectations for coherent and cohesive narratives which have basis in reality thank u. bc u will not be finding that here. ajaa never stood a chance.. they werent doomed by the narrative. its worse. they were doomed by STUPID FUCKING GAMERS AND STUPID EXECUTIVE DECISIONS 😭😭😭
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incendiobrock · 6 months
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Baby Girl {Matt Sturniolo}
Request: Linked here! (My requests are OPEN please send me some!!)
Prompt(s): failed cooking/baking attempt
Warnings: mentions of giving birth (cryptic pregnancy), language
A/N: I'm so bad at writing anything to do with pregnancy but I tried my best to do this imagine some justice LMAO
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Chris and Nick sat at the kitchen table as you were at the stove top trying to fix some lunch for the three of you. Your boyfriend Matt was currently out of the house for a modeling campaign which left the three of you hungry and without a car. Everything had been irritating you as of lately. It was like any minor inconvenience felt like the end of the world, bringing you to tears.
You had already felt agitated when Matt had to leave for work, wanting nothing more than to spend the day cuddled up with him in bed. Now, you were on the verge of tears as you tried to pull together making this lunch. Nick and Chris were joking around and laughing oblivious to your stress as you huffed over the pan, realizing that you had burnt the chicken you had been searing.
"Fuck." You cussed under your breath, taking the pan off the heat and looking at the chicken that was burnt to a crisp on one side. You went to pick up the tongs that were sitting on the side of the kitchen counter but your hand accidentally bumped it wrong, causing them to drop to the ground. That was your last straw, tears fell from your eyes as you stared at the tongs that were now on the dirty kitchen floor.
"Hey, are you okay? What's wrong?" Nick asked you, finally noticing that something was up. The kitchen chair screeched against the hardwood flooring as he stood up to come over to your side. Chris was getting up too, noticing the disaster you had created in the pan.
"No, I'm not alright! I burnt the fucking chicken and dropped the tongs on the ground!" You lashed out, covering your eyes with your hands out of frustration. "It's alright, it really isn't that burnt." Chris said, rubbing your upper back and trying to comfort you.
All of a sudden you felt sick to your stomach, becoming dizzy. You gripped onto the counter as you tried to steady yourself from swaying. There were stars clouding your vision and you instantly started to feel hot and sweaty. "I don't feel good..." You mumbled, dropping yourself down to your knees as you tried to steady your heavy breathing. Next thing you knew you felt the most intense pain in your lower abdomen, almost like a bad period cramp.
"Oh my god! What's happening?" Nick questioned, dropping down to your level so he could try to figure out what was wrong.
"I think I need to go to the hospital." You groaned, clutching at your stomach as the nausea continued to wash over you. "Call Matt!" Nick yelled, directing Chris to get ahold of your boyfriend. With shaky hands, Chris brought his phone up to his ear, listening to the dial tone.
"He's not answering!" Chris panicked, trying to figure out what to do next. Chris ended up calling Matt three more times, getting sent to voicemail every one of them. Eventually, Nick had resorted to calling an ambulance which had picked you all up within twenty minutes. Nick and Chris had to wait outside of your room as you were being examined.
The nurses were taking a look at you while asking you a bunch of questions about your symptoms.
"And are you sexually active?" One of the ladies asked, taking a look at her computer screen as she recorded all of your data. You shook your head yes as another wave of sharp pains hit your abdomen.
"Is there any chance you could be pregnant?" She asks, causing you to widen your eyes. Now that you thought about it, it was strange how emotional you had been feeling for the past few months. Not to mention the spurts of nausea you would feel throughout the day, especially when you would think about a specific food you didn't like. But you had never considered the fact that you could be pregnant, still experiencing your period every month. The nurse pulled out the ultrasound machine, taking a look at your belly and confirming that you were indeed pregnant. A cryptic pregnancy is what they called it and it was pretty rare.
You experienced some hormonal changes and sickness, but your period was always regular and you never had a baby belly so this was a complete shock to you. The nurse warned you that the baby would be coming within the next few hours and you went ahead and accepted the epidural.
After an hour and a half, dealing with contractions, the delivery was about to begin. Matt still hadn't made it there and you were starting to get nervous that he was going to miss the birth entirely. Neither of you had planned or even really talked about getting pregnant, so you also hoped that this wouldn't complete destroy your three year long relationship. Matt wanted to be a dad eventually, but right now you were both still young and he was fully invested in work.
---
"Congratulations, you have a beautiful baby girl who is completely healthy." The doctor said to you, passing you the newborn who was bundled up in a blanket. As you looked down at the baby, taking note of the fact that she had Matt's bright blue eyes, the door to your hospital room flung open. Startled, you glanced over at the doorway seeing Matt at the entrance, Chris and Nick standing timidly behind him.
"Baby... I'm so sorry I'm late!" Matt apologized, rushing to your side. The nerves rushed over you again as you waited for him to take a look at the baby you had brought into the world. He leaned over the bed, pressing a long, sweet kiss to your forehead. "I'm a dad?" He asked softly, smiling at the sleeping baby. You let out a laugh of relief as you nodded in response to his question. Chris and Nick were still frozen in the doorway until Matt ushered them over, "Guys, come look at my two beautiful girls."
All three of them looked at your baby girl with awe, any doubts you had now long gone. You knew from that moment forward this baby was going to be the most spoiled, and loved from three of the most amazing people in your life.
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recuira · 1 year
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after hours
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after hours : a live action buggy x fem!reader fanfiction
for some odd reason, you have no idea who he is. and he fucking loved that.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
chapter one chapter two chapter three chapter four chapter five
chapter six | drunk. drool. darkness.
her pov;
I felt like an idiot. Like a fool.
When I came downstairs the following morning, with a pounding headache nearly blinding my vision, I spotted my mother collapsed on the couch rather than in her own bed. The kitchen was surprisingly clean, as well as the dining room table. She definitely didn't tidy up after that disaster of a night, so who did?
I walked past the stairs and into the kitchen, attempting to search for any kind of medicine to hopefully soothe the aching headache I had. I sorted through a kitchen cabinet before finding a small bottle of painkillers my mother was prescribed when her illness was first diagnosed. I placed two tablets in my mouth and dipped my head underneath the sink faucet, pouring a bit of water into my mouth to swallow the pills. Stepping back, I grabbed a pot from the stove, glaring at my sleeping mother.
I dropped it on the tiled floor.
In a split second, she shot up awake, groaning. "What the hell was that?!" She spat, grabbing her head while also covering her eyes.
"Good morning," I said as I forced a smile. I placed the pot back atop of the stove. "What happened last night?"
"Why the fuck should I know?" She cursed, laying back down.
"Where'd Buggy go?"
"Home?"
I frowned. I wasn't going to get any answers from her.
I ventured back upstairs into my bedroom where I could let my eyes settle in the cold and darkness. I closed the door behind me and approached my bed but before I climbed on it, I noticed a small green blur in the corner of my vision. Turning my head, I found the small turtle stuffed animal laying on the floor.
I treated my stuffed animals like they were living. To let them touch the floor rather than my own bed would be a sin.
Why was it on the floor?
Then it hit me.
Buggy threw it there.
I sat on my bed, holding the plushie close to my person. Last night, after dinner, I stormed up to my bedroom to be alone and to calm down due to the big fight my mother and I had. Then he came into my room to console me. Then-
"Oh my god."
I couldn't believe it. I practically threw myself onto him. Then he turned me down and after that, my mind drew a blank. I recalled vague bits here and there but the most clear occurrence was that of him leaving. Did I kick him out? Or did he leave willingly?
I touched my mouth with the stuffed animal. The feeling of his lips on mine was something I couldn't forget. For such a rough and rugged man, his lips and touch were so soft. I smiled to myself before falling onto the bed, my eyes drifting to a close.
Before I thought more about all of this, I needed to get rid of this headache.
-=-
I felt so stupid. Like a clown.
As I remembered more about the event, the more my self-esteem dropped. I never, in a thousand years, would have ever imagined myself getting drunk on red wine and then throwing myself onto a man with a red, clown nose. I frowned. His nose wasn't the issue. I liked him. I really did. He was kind and thoughtful for someone who used to be a bloodthirsty pirate. He went out of his way to please me which no one has ever done before.
And how do I thank him?
By making out with him and then kicking him out after he didn't reciprocate. I invite him over for dinner then throw him out.
This is why I hated alcohol.
It made stupid people do stupid things.
I was completely embarrassed with myself- so embarrassed, in fact, that I didn't reach out to Buggy for an entire month. How could I possibly be able to face himself after such an incident? Would I not mention it? Do I shake his hand and apologize and ask him to never bring it up again? Or do I kiss him again and see if my effort will mean something to him this time?
No, I'm an idiot. I ruined such a great friendship due to a few too many glasses of cheap red wine.
I blamed my mother for this entirely- and myself, of course. But if it weren't for her selfish and conniving personality, Buggy wouldn't have been invited for dinner. He and I would still be talking. I would see him everyday like I had been.
I vowed to my mother that as soon as I made enough money, I was moving out and cutting all ties with her. She simply laughed at me.
And so, for the past month, I kept my promise and sought out to look for jobs. Nothing dirty, of course.
I landed a waitress gig at a small run-down pub that hardly housed any customers other than drunken pirates and businessmen. I've only been here a few times before and it was the same pub I met Buggy at. Ever since that night, I haven't returned until today. The owner told me that the blue-haired piratehardly inhabited this bar which I was thankful for. I still needed to properly digest everything and when I was ready to confront him, I would. I just hoped it would be soon.
I was surprised to see that he didn't reach out either.
Maybe I scared him off.
As I cleaned off one of the tables, I tried to ignore the loud yells from behind me. Surprisingly, there was a huge flood of new patrons. My boss told me there was a soccer game and that's why everyone decided to eat and drink at the same place.
I didn't mind it too much. It meant more tips.
The rest of the night went by fast and just as we neared closing, I sat by myself in a corner booth, counting the change and money I made in just a few hours. One hundred and twenty berries. I smiled to myself, recounting to see if my math was correct.
Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen-
The bell above the door jangled as someone walked inside. I kept my head low and proceeded to count before I felt a tap on my shoulder.
"We're not closed yet, Y/N. Go assist that customer, please." The man pointed at a booth. "Now."
I huffed and stood up, slipping the loose change into a pocket in my apron. I grabbed the notepad and a pen and started towards the booth.
With a closed-eye smile, I greeted the patron. "Hello, what can I get for you tonight?
"Y/N?"
I opened my eyes and there he sat. "Buggy," I whispered.
I nearly cringed.
His long blue hair was tied in a loose ponytail with the same striped bandanna wrapped around his scalp. His makeup was streaking down his sweaty face. The buttons of his striped vest were misaligned with the wrong slots. His blue-painted fingernails were chipped. And the worst of it, he wrank of liquor.
He was swaying in his seat, his arms resting across the table.
"H-Haven't-" hiccup! "-seen you in a while," He smirked. "You miss me?" His words slurred and his green eyes were nearly swollen shut. I frowned at this and took a seat beside him, nudging him to the other side of the booth. He giggled and his arm lifted before slinging over my shoulder.
"What's going on?" I whispered, hoping my boss wouldn't see me.
"What? Nothing!" He murmured.
"You're shitfaced. Why?"
"I dunno'. Got bored..." Buggy hummed and smiled up at me. His fingers began to mess with my hair. "Yer' working now?"
"Yeah, I am."
"Well, I wouldn't know! I haven't seen you in years..." He pouted.
"It's been a month."
"Whatever. Get me a beer, will ya?"
I laughed. "No! You're already too far gone. I'll get you a water." I pulled myself away from him and stood up, making my way behind the counter. Pouring him a glass of water, I watched as he proceeded to hiccup, playing into the drunkard stereotype all too well. Why was he like this? I've never seen this before. Why did he drink so much? As I approached him, he reached for me. I whacked his hand away and slid the cup toward him. This time, I sat across from him.
He glared at the drink before chugging it all, some water dripping down his stubbled chin. I crossed my arms and examined him. He was a complete and utter mess. It almost disgusted me to see him in this light. Someone I respected so much was now stooping to the same level as my mother.
"Buggs, what's happening here?"
"What?" He tilted his head. "Yer' supposed to be my waitress. You haven't taken my order yet," The pirate grumbled, reaching to grab at the paper menu. He squinted his eyes as he read it. "Get me a sandwich. With... uhm, oh! Meat, cheese, and lettuce." He met my gaze and smiled widely, exposing every single tooth.
"Not until you tell me what's going on," I demanded, pointing down at the table. "Is this some ploy to get back at me?"
"W-What? Back at you?" He snickered. "Yer' cute, kiddo."
"Don't call me that."
"Cute or kiddo?"
"Both."
"What would you rather me say?" He smirked and leaned forward, gesturing his hand for me to get closer. I did, also leaning in. "Your- hehe, your tits look amazing in that top?"
I gasped and pushed him back. "Fuck you!"
"What?! Which would you rather me call you?" He pursed his red-stained lips together.
"By my fucking name, you idiot."
"Okay! Y/N," He started, letting out a soft burp. "Where's my sandwich?"
"You'll get it once you start talking."
"I've been talking! I can't win with you." His eyes rolled. "Women."
I hit him atop of the head this time and he yelped, immediately shrinking down as his arms hovered over his head.
"You're the one who kicked me out! Why are you still acting so mad... I'd think you'd be happy to see me again, but- but, I was wrong..."
"I am happy to see you but-"
"You are? Really?" The look on the clown's face broke my heart. He was so surprised, so shocked to find out that I missed his company. “I-I’m glad.” His head dropped for a moment and he looked down at his lap. “I’ve been, uh, g-going through a lot.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. I don’t want to talk about it.” He let out a loud hiccup then clutched his throat. “That one hurt.”
“Why can’t you tell me?”
His broad shoulders shrugged back. “Maybe I will. I just need something- uh, something to eat.”
Getting something in his stomach might help him sober up fast but my mom always told me that the only way to sober up was through time. “I’ll get you something to eat.”
“Now?”
“Yes, right now.”
I got up from the table and began to walk toward the kitchen but a floating hand grabbed at my wrist. It gave my arm a tight tug before I looked back at Buggy. I raised an eyebrow but he just gave me a toothy grin then let go. Venturing into the kitchen, I let the chef know that it was the last meal of the night. He was reluctant because it meant he needed to put out his cigarette but he gave me a firm nod and told me to wait a couple of minutes. I agreed with him then went to peek on the blue-haired clown. He rested his head on his hands, his eyes closed. His long eyelashes casted a dim shadow over his eyelids. His lips parted, a small drop of drool running down his chin. Was he asleep?
Before I could admire him any further, the chef tapped on my shoulder and handed me the tray of food. A sandwich sat upon the plate with potato salad to the right of it. I thanked him and brought the meal to Buggy. I set it in front of him then took a seat.
“Buggy?” I nudged his shoulder. “Your food is here.”
“I’m not hungry.”
What? “What? You just said you were.”
“I lied. I want to go home.”
“Then why did you come here?”
“Because the other bar kicked me out ‘cause I had too much to drink,” He mumbled into his arm. “I wanted to drink more but then I- I saw you. So I wanted to stop.”
“You stopped drinking because of me?”
“I was drinking because of you.”
I furrowed my eyebrows together. What was he babbling about now? Before I could protest, he reached forward, grabbing half of the sandwich with a severed hand. He raised his head and took a bite. He chewed for a few seconds then swallowed. He ate the half then slid me the plate. So much for not being hungry.
I smiled to myself and started to eat, taking the last sip of the glass of water I had brought to him. I finished eating then wiped my mouth with a napkin.
Taking a few bills out of my pocket, I placed it on the table to cover the meal.
But then it hit me.
I could pay him back.
“Buggy, I have great news,” I exclaimed with a wide grin and pulled the loose change out of the apron pocket, the various coins rocking against the table before falling flat. The pirate sat up, a yawn escaping his mouth.
“What?”
“I can pay you back now! I have more than enough!”
“I don’t want you to,” He whispered, sliding it toward me. “I have more than enough. You’re the one who needs it, not me.”
“But you said I could pay you back. That was our deal.”
“Y/N-“
“Take the money, Buggy. Please.”
His green eyes met mine for a split second before he reluctantly gave in. He swiped the money toward him and folded the bills before hiding them away in his pocket. I smiled at him, taking the change he didn’t want to keep.
I looked at him, staying quiet. Was he already sobering up? He was talking normally now; he was hardly slurring his speech. “Can I walk you home?”
He cocked a grin. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”
“Please?”
“Yeah, sure. Alright.”
I clocked out of work and helped Buggy out of his seat. On the walk back to his abode, Buggy leaned against me. My arm wrapped around his shoulders as I guided him down the street. He stumbled with each step and if it weren't for me, I was sure he would've fallen. The man relied on me heavily.
The front door opened with a loud bang. A wave of cold air brushed over me and I shivered. The pirate buried his face into my neck. A red blush washed over my face before I helped him onto his bed. He giggled to himself and extended his foot. I raised an eyebrow.
"Take my shoes off, please." He whispered, his body falling back to lay flat on the bed with his leg still straight out.
I knelt down and slipped each of his boots off. I set them to the left of the nightstand. Standing up, I closed the front door and dropped my backpack beside it. I approached the man and took a seat upon the edge of the bed, turning to look down at him. His eyes were closed. "Buggy, I'm gonna get going now. We can talk tomorrow, okay? When you're sober," I spoke, my voice barely above a whisper. “Do you need anything before I go?” I was met with silence. I let out a small huff, my hand resting on his leg. I caressed it. I then pulled my hand away but before I could stand up, his hand took my wrist and he gripped it, tightly. I looked back at him. He was now sitting upward.
"Please, no. Please stay the night," He begged, lunging forward. His head fell into my lap and his arms wrapped around my waist. "Don't leave again. Please."
I froze. My eyes grew wide, my arms levitating above the man.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I nodded my head even though he couldn't see me. "Okay, okay." I dropped my hands to rest on his back, tenderly stroking the fabric of his vest. He let out a satisfied hum and remained completely silent. While it wasn't the most comfortable position, I stayed still because it was cozy for him.
I've never seen him in this mood before. I thought alcohol would make him an angry man, maybe rather devious or feisty, but no. It made him sad. It made him vulnerable. Alcohol took his rough exterior and melted it away, revealing a soft side I've never seen before.
His face nuzzled into my thigh.
I listened to his light breathing and brought my hands up to run through his thick blue hair. I was surprised his hair was so long. It was nice, though. It was silky smooth as well.
"Y/N," Buggy whispered into my leg.
"Yeah?"
"I'm sorry for disappointing you."
A frown stayed on my face. I felt my eyes and nose sting. "What?"
"I've done nothing but trouble you. I'm sorry. I didn't realize I would be this much of a burden in your life. I thought I could help but-"
"What are you going on about?"
His head raised and revealed a soaking wet face. A stream of tears ran down his face, his makeup smearing even more than before. I gasped. He sniffled and grimaced. "I look so stupid, don't I?"
"You don't, Buggers. I'm just trying to figure out why you're crying," I whispered, raising my head to cup his cheek. He leaned into my palm and gave me a small, sincere smile. This was hurting my heart.
"We haven't spoken in a month."
"I know, I know. It's my fault, I-"
"Did you just not want to see me anymore?"
I instantly shook my head. "No, no, no. That's not it at all." I wiped a few tears away with my thumb.
"I thought I fucked up so badly," He started, taking a deep breath. "When you came onto me like that, I felt time stop. Literally nothing else mattered to me in that moment other than you. I didn't even fucking care if my heart stopped beating. If being with you was my last moment alive, I'd die a happy man." I sucked in my lower lip, my eyes burning more. "But it felt wrong. You were drunk, p-probably for the first time in your life. I didn't want to take advantage of that. You weren't thinking straight at all. I-I didn't want you to-to regret it the next morning."
"Buggy-"
"You have no idea- no fucking idea how badly I've wanted that. Since the very moment I've laid my eyes on you, I realized there was nothing more I could ever want. You're perfect. A literal angel." I wanted to tell him he was wrong but he continued to speak, making my heart both ache and jump. "My life was so dark before you. I was blinded by greed and-and hatred. I was a cruel man. But seeing you smile, I forget what for, but your smile erupted something in me. I didn't care anymore. I didn't care about anything else in life other than you. I did some fucked up shit and I feel like you have a right to know." He swallowed then turned his head, facing away from me.
"What do you mean?" Those words scared me.
"Look in the nightstand. There's a book, I think it's the second one. Open it and see for yourself." He sat up and pulled away from me, wiping his nose and eyes. "No more lies or secrets. I want to be completely open and honest with you about everything. If our friendship continues, then I want honesty. You deserve that."
"You're scaring me, Buggy," I murmured and leaned forward, reaching for the drawer. I yanked it open and sorted through the stack of novels. I grabbed the second one and set it in my lap. "Can I just say-"
"No, please look. I need your opinion on me after you see this."
I was horrified.
What was so revolting in this book that he felt the need to hide?
I looked at him, frowning, before dropping my head. I admired the cover of the novel before peeling it open. My eyes widened.
"Read it out loud," The man instructed as he toyed with his bottom lip. He stared at me, not even seeming to blink.
My thumb dragged over the paper to smooth out the crumpled words. “She has the kindest smile. Her generosity is beyond that of anyone I know. She makes me believe in the good of humanity again." I repeated as I read the sentences scattered on the small note of paper. I smiled to myself. "Did you write-"
"Read the next one."
"I've never wanted something so badly in my life. To say I yearned for her would be a complete understatement. I longed for her, I yearned, I desired- In simple terms, I wanted her. I mean, how could I not? She was an angel. She was a siren. I would purposely listen to her enchanting song, allowing my boat to crash, just if it meant I could be graced by her presence, by her beauty. I was obsessed with her. If she found out my thoughts, my desires, she would never let herself be seen with me. I wouldn't blame her, though. I was obsessive. It was unhealthy, I knew that. But I didn't care. I wouldn't say I loved her because I didn't know what that felt like. I've never experienced it. But perhaps I did love her. I didn't know, I couldn't tell. All I knew was that she was the only treasure I wanted. Not the One Piece, no. Not even that could match up to her alluring person. If I had to travel every sea in order to find her, battle every sea snake in order to touch her, I would. I would in a heartbeat." I felt my lower lip quiver as salty tears began to cloud my vision. I used my free hand to rub my eyes before I continued. "A-And she caused me to see the world in color. Everything was so bland and dry but the second I saw her, I could see the blue in the sky and the pink petals of cherry blossoms. I could see the light at the end of a tunnel. If I was drowning, I know she would be able to rescue me just from her words of encouragement."
"Do you get it now?" He asked, placing his hand on my knee.
"You like me?" I asked, hesitant.
"What? Really?" He said with a weak laugh. "Of course I do. But I've known you for so long, Y/N. Much longer than you knowing me. I've followed you before, s-stalked you."
I gasped. Oh. I didn't get that from the writings. "You did?"
"Yeah, I did. I've been scheming for months. Trying to figure out how to talk to you o-or get you to say hello to me. Then at the bar-"
"I said hello to you. Were you there because of me?"
"Yeah, it wasn't mere coincidence."
"Woah," I said in awe, my facial expression or tone of voice hiding how I was truly feeling. "That's- wow."
"If you want to leave, I understand. It's a lot, I know. But I promise I've never properly stalk- well, I-I don't know. I just saw you and I knew I needed to know you. I needed you in my life."
"When did you first see me?"
"A fish market. You were giving a kitten some of the scraps."
"I don't even remember that," I admitted with a light chuckle.
"I'm not a creeper pervert or anything, I swear. I've-"
"Buggy, stop panicking. I'm flattered, if anything. I don't hate you. I don't think differently of you either."
He leaned into me, his red nose touching the tip of my own. He wore a wide smile on his face. "Really?" I nodded my head and rested my hand atop of his.
"It's a lot to take in but I'm not creeped out. I just- I had no idea."
"There's a reason I still have a bounty,” He remarked.
I laughed softly. "Very true."
"Do you understand why I was so worried? I thought all of that progress was wasted. I did want to, I really did. God, I wanted to, but-" The man continued to ramble on before I pressed my palm to his red-painted mouth. He wiggled his eyebrows.
"I'm glad you didn't stay. Genuinely, I would have regretted it. Not because of you, but because I would want to remember a moment like that. I never want to drink again so I can be fully aware of everything we do together," I said as I removed my hand. "I didn't contact you because I was embarrassed with myself. I felt like an idiot. I thought I completely ruined everything. I also wanted to properly deal with my emotions. I wanted to figure out what I felt."
"And what do you feel?"
"The same as you do, though maybe not as extreme."
The pirate cracked a cheeky grin and nudged me.
"But I don't want to rush anything, please. If we do decide to do anything," I cleared my throat. "I want to take things slow. I moved too fast that night and look what happened."
"No, no, yeah. I feel the same way. No rush."
"Do we have a deal?" I extended my hand.
"A deal for what?"
"To do this but take things slow."
"To do what?"
"Buggy, you know what I mean."
"I want to hear you say it."
I huffed and pulled my hand back before he quickly grabbed it and gave it a firm shake. "We can go further with our relationship. How is that?" I smiled.
"Hmm, what do you mean? I'm a little slow, you'll need to spell it-" I kissed him for a split second then pulled back. The expression on his face was priceless. "That's pretty self-explanatory,” He hummed, grinning.
"Good."
"Can I do it again, though?" His hand reached to cup my chin.
"Once," I whispered.
Buggy closed the gap, tilting his head to be able to kiss me properly. It was short but sweet. When he pulled away, he fell against me, his forehead resting on my shoulder. My arms enwrapped his figure and I pulled him close. "Are you tired?" I asked, playing with his ponytail.
"Mhm," He responded, a soft yawn parting from his lips. "You're still staying the night, right?"
"Yeah, I am."
The blue-haired man pulled away from me and swept his legs over the side of the bed "I'll sleep on the floor, I don't want you to be uncomfortable."
I grabbed his arm. "Nonsense, it's okay. I get the left side, though."
Buggy grinned, nodding his head. "Yes, ma'am."
I peeled my shoes off, setting them next to his as he began to unfold the sheets. He pulled the blankets back and climbed underneath them. I crawled beside, pushing my legs under the thin blankets. Turning to face Buggy, I tucked my arm under the pillow.
"I'm sorry for being like this, by the way. For being drunk."
"It's okay, just try to stop. If it's okay."
"It is," He whispered while stretching his arm out, slyly letting it sling over my waist. I smirked.
"You were kind of funny, though."
"How so?"
"Slurring your words, repeating yourself, tripping everywhere."
"What can I say? They don't call me a clown for nothing."
"I think the nose and makeup gave you that reputation."
"Nose?" He cocked an eyebrow upward.
"D-Did I say nose? I meant, uh, your hair!"
"Mhm, sure." Buggy tugged me toward him, my face coming into contact with his chest. He let out a groan as he made himself comfortable. "I hope this isn't moving too fast. I'm cold."
"No, this is perfect," I replied with a sheepish smile.
My eyes closed and I shrugged my shoulders back while exhaling a sigh. I was cold but the warmth of his body soothed my goosebumps. I rested my forehead against his abdomen and felt myself beginning to drift off. His chin plopped upon my head and his hand combed through my hair.
"What do you want to do tomorrow?" He whispered, his voice raspy as exhaustion took over.
"We'll figure that out when tomorrow arrives. For now, I need sleep."
"Do you work tomorrow?"
I shook my head, whispering a simple 'no'.
"Sorry, I'll let you sleep."
I smirked to myself and tucked myself closer into him.
"Sweet dreams, Y/N," He mumbled as he kissed atop my head.
With those words and the sound of his heartbeat and breathing, I found myself falling asleep. I ignored the stench of alcohol coming from his person and focused on everything else I enjoyed about him.
In one last resort to get comfortable, I turned over, pressing my back against his front. My legs entangled with his and his arm slipped underneath my own. He held my hand.
The last thing I remember was him placing a kiss on the back of my head and then I fell unconscious.
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