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disneyprincemuke · 9 months

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where the fun begins * ls2 (ms47)

logan sees you wrapped around another’s arms shortly after you ghost him and he decides to wreak some havoc

pairings: frat!logan x reader, college!mick x reader

notes: hi guys fun fact i am running out of logan gifs to use because i write for him too much LMFAO it’s a very interesting problem to have

(f1 masterlist)

| one | two | three | four |

“hey, isn’t that,” oscar presses his lips into a thin line, pointing across the bowling alley towards your direction. “isn’t that the girl you brought to our party a couple times?”

logan hums in confusion as he walks back towards oacar from his turn. he tilts his head and follows his friends’ finger.

there you were, at the end of the long stretch in the bowling alley surrounded by your girlfriends. but it’s not difficult to pick out the odd one out of the group: a guy.

a blonde guy, in fact. logan almost laughs seeing you hop over to him after your turn, his smile dropping almost immediately when he sees you tuck yourself under his arm and wrapping yours around his waist.

“oh, wow,” oscar mutters, eyebrows raising in shock. “i didn’t know you guys broke up.”

absolute lie. oscar knows everything that goes on in the frat house. he has eyes and ears everywhere on campus. as for you, he’s been secretly seeing your friend lily, and she had briefly mentioned that you and logan stopped talking not too long ago.

he was starting to worry about logan’s antics getting too crazy again, skipping classes and bringing back random girls again. it all started to make sense when lily dropped the bomb on him.

and he doesn’t blame you.

“we weren’t dating,” logan answers quickly, waving his friend’s concerns away. he tries to tell if you would pull away from this unnamed guy, feeling the frustration in his chest grow as he watches you with him.

he hasn’t seen, or talked to you, in almost three weeks. he’s tried calling and sending you text messages, even frequenting spots on campus he knows that you could pass by or hang out in. he never sees you anywhere.

he misses you, as much as he hates to admit it. while you had bought his endless excuses to take your dating situation slow and he refused to put a label on what you had, he does like you genuinely.

“mate, where are you going?” liam lifts his head, turning to logan who’s already walking away. “it’s your turn.”

“play for me,” logan mutters, shaking his head. “i’ll be right back.”

“let’s just take a quick toilet break, maybe,” oscar mutters, patting liam on the back. the australian huffs, putting the bowling ball he had just picked up back onto the rails.

he chases after logan and waves a hand in his face. “are you sure about this? should you even really be approaching her?”

“i just wanna ask her something, don’t worry,” logan snorts, ignoring his friend’s silent pleads to turn back the other way.

he’s typically the type to wreak havoc, which he actually put aside during the short couple of months he was with you. you were more on the reserved side and found that logan was too chaotic with his ways, especially with his parties and defiant attitude.

but when you ghosted him out of the blue after one of his parties, the urge to be a menace rose back up again.

“hey, you seem to have a type, you know.” he leans on the table right next to you, chin resting in his palm. “tall, blonde…”

your laugh is cut short, tearing away the arm wrapped around you. you step forward and turn to him with a confused stare. “logan… come on.”

some of your friends has taken notice of his presence, exchanging glances and giving him dirty looks. logan resists the urge to take the jab at them because he kind of owes it to them that you’d even given him a chance in the first place.

oscar presses his lips into a thin line, glancing at lily with wide eyes. when she told him he had plans, he didn’t know those plans would be at the bowling alley either.

perhaps she planned it so you could parade your new boyfriend in front of logan unknowingly? which is, he has to admit, kind of funny. he’ll make sure to ask lily about it later.

“what? just an observation,” he grins smugly at you, knowing well how you hate every second of this interaction.

he knows how much it irritates you when he’s causing trouble and chaos. or even just trying to spark up an argument — it’s never in your typical serene nature to engage in anything that causes you too much stress.

“can you please just go?” he sees you glance at oscar, your eyes downturned with a plead. “not here, logan.”

“i thought you’d be more excited to see me,” logan tilts his head, trying to sport an innocent stare. “we haven’t seen each other in three weeks. don’t you remember the times when you couldn’t even go two days without seeing me?”

“logan!” you scoff exasperatedly, glancing at the boy watching the scene go down. “seriously, can you not cause a scene?”

“i’m just making small talk.” logan finally turns his head to acknowledge your friend. now that he’s gotten a good look at him, he looks kind of familiar. is he the guy in one of your classes that he’s caught staring dreamily at you? he is pretty sure it is. “found yourself a boyfriend, did you?”

“mate, she asked you to fuck off,” mick scoffs with a small smile.

“logan, let’s just go back. let’s go,” oscar mutters, ready to walk away, towing logan by the elbow to head back to the other end of the bowling alley.

“no,” logan mutters, moving his arm out of oscar’s grasp. he leans on the table again and clasps his hands together. “she’s cute, right? you just wanna put her right in your little pocket?”

you close your eyes and purse your lips, opening them to glare at logan. “we’re just trying to have a game of bowling.”

“yeah, she’s very cute,” mick smiles forcefully at him. he keeps a hand on the small of your back as he turns to logan. “sucks, right? she isn’t at your beck and call anymore?”

“he’s just trying to get a reaction out of you. just ignore him,” you mutter, tugging at his arm towards the lane that your friends have settled in. “it’s easy.” you glance at logan. “i’ve been doing it for three weeks.”

logan laughs, raising his eyebrows at your response. he’s growing agitated as well but he can’t show that to you. you shouldn’t know what kind of effect you’ve got on him. “i never got invited to the plans you’d make with your friends,” he points at mick nonchalantly, “why him?”

you stop in your tracks and tilt your head. you furrow your eyebrows, unsure if he had really asked you that question when the answer is very clearly in everyone’s faces.

hell, even oscar knows why you didn’t opt for the option that is logan sargeant.

“why’s that matter?” you chuckle dryly. “my friends like inviting him to our plans.”

logan tilts his head, looking at your friends with a small smile. some of them return the gesture, some of them simply roll their eyes and scoff at him. “they like me.”

“used to, mate,” oscar whispers, only loud enough for him to hear. he tugs on logan’s shirt again. “let’s go. the guys are waiting for us.”

“not everyone likes hanging around a dick,” mick shrugs simply. he looks at oscar. “no offense.”

“none taken,” oscar laughs dryly, pulling logan in the direction of their lane at the other end of the alley. he smiles at you apologetically. “sorry for us being here.”

you smile at oscar. “no worries. you’re not the issue.”

logan shrugs, rolling his eyes, still very much committed to the nonchalant facade. though, it irritates him seeing you intertwine your fingers with mick.

objectively speaking, he could cause a scene right then and there. but seeing as that you’re not biting into his games, then there’s no reason for him to do that. it would only be embarrassing.

“i just came over to invite you to the party we’re throwing this friday night,” logan smiles, finally pushing himself off the table. he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “i’ll expect you there — i don’t just invite anybody to our house parties.”

you grin. “thanks, i’ll think about it.”

“mate, just fuck off. do you not get what ghosting means? she doesn’t want anything to do with you,” mick smiles, the innocence and friendliness of it all making logan want to tear walls down and flip tables.

“just letting you know,” logan says directly at you. “you know i always know how to show you where the fun begins.”

“okay,” you answer shortly, mick finally moving from his spot to step away from logan and oscar. “see you around, logan. it’s nice seeing you again, oscar.”

“sorry again for the bother,” oscar laughs sheepishly, pushing logan away from the table. he looks over at mick and your friends with an apologetic nod. “sorry guys.”

“i’ll be waiting for you to be in attendance, babe,” logan winks at you before he finally lets oscar whisk him away. “we’ll have fun just like we used to.”

“stop it!” oscar scolds, giving him a hard shove to kickstart their walk. “and what party are you inviting her to? we don’t have a party this weekend.”

“yeah,” logan smiles proudly, nodding at oscar. “we are now throwing a party on friday.”

@cashtons-wife

#logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant x you #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #disneyprincemuke #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher x you

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chososbabymama · 1 year

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(plug!suguru x fem!black reader)

plug!geto pt 1

head empty no thoughts, only plug suguru😩

[CW// swearing, implied NSFW, drug usage (jus weed yall i promise suguru not poppin percs or nothin), alcohol, mei mei (yes im makin a cw for her weird ass!!)]

sugu..｡oO (☆): u got me fucked up y/n, im omw.

[IMAGE ATTACHED]

shit… you stared at your phone, eyes widening in shock. you gather yourself quickly before rolling your eyes and tossing your phone to the side.

“ion even see why he’s coming over…. seems to be happy as hell with that other bitch he got” you grumble.

you see, growing up you and geto were next door neighbors. your parents thought it’d be a good idea for you to hang out together given that you would be attending the same school. through geto you were able to meet gojo, sukuna, choso, toji and nanami. you all became a close group fairly quickly, they essentially became your big brothers and did their best to keep you from harms way while also making sure they weren’t smothering you.

but your relationship with suguru was always… different. sure he had been just as protective as the rest, but he would always go above and beyond for you. girls were bullying you? he glued their shoes to their lockers and put stink bombs in their desks. some guy cheated on you? suguru sent videos of the guy smoking to his college recruiter and got his full ride scholarship revoked. you were being harassed in public? geto broke someones wrist after they tried to grab you. you were sad and lonely on valentines day? he showed up with a bouquet of your favorite flowers, a bag of your favorite things, and a big ass bottle of pink whitney.

so when you guys were 16 and geto told you he was gonna start dealing, you knew things were only gonna go up from there. he had been the one who got you into smoking, from your first pipe all the way to teaching you how to roll your own blunts. geto was smart, good with money, and had that disgustingly endearing boyish charm about him. naturally customers ate it up, and he thrived in your town for being the local plug. he continued his practice all the way until you guys went to college, him and sukuna even worked together sometimes at bigger parties and events. but the one thing geto had ALWAYS made clear, was that HE was gonna take care of you. 7 months after he first started he showed up to your house with a full zip, lighter, grinder, colorful pre-roll papers, and a pretty rolling tray to match (most of this stuff you still have and use to this day). needless to say you were shocked, you can still remember the way he sat you down on top of him as he explained how the grinder worked and how tightly you wanted to pack the cone.

“don't worry pretty girl, imma take care of you. wont have to spend a single cent on flower s’long as i'm around yea?” he buried his face in your neck and maybe it was the joint talking but you could’ve SWORE you had felt his lips on your neck and the grip on your hips tighten.

ever since that day, suguru has kept his word. you had consistently gone to him when you needed smoke and you never paid for it. just tell him how much you need and within the hour its in your hands. its caused quite the issues with his hookups, they couldn’t understand why YOU never had to pay but they did. you didn't fully understand why yourself, but each and every time he’d just shrug and give them the same answer,

“she’s just special.”

he’d never let you forget that to him? you always came first.

you loved all those boys with all your heart, but suguru managed to carve a special place all to himself, and you couldn’t say you were upset about it. which is why you were so fuckin pissed off about how these past few weeks have been. despite your growing feelings for suguru, you foolishly assumed that losing his friendship wasn't worth it. so you kept your feelings hidden for 6 years as you watched him fool around left and right. you of course had your own share of hookups, but you knew that no matter what you'd still end up in your shower crying out for him as you reached your peak.

these past few months with him, have been…. interesting. for some reason your interactions with him had become much more flirtatious. whenever you sat together his arm would be wrapped around your shoulder, he’d kiss you on the cheek anytime he left the room (gojo sometimes demanded one of his own and like the good friend he is, suguru would comply), and the nicknames?

‘hey sweetness you need anything?’

‘you know you’re my number one, right pretty girl?’

‘c’mon mama you know i miss you’

it was all honestly driving you insane, the back and forth with him. the constant battle you have with yourself about his intentions. its all just…. a lot. you were just getting used to the new aspect of your dynamic when all hell broke loose. it seems like one of sugurus past hookups was upset that he wasn't paying attention to them or any of his other past flings for that matter, not when he wanted you. so, they decided to…. fix that.

imagine your surprise when you get a text from hakari in the middle of your class,

karis bitch ass: “thought geto was fw u ???’

[3 IMAGES ATTACHED]

your eyes widened almost comically as you stared at the screen. kinji had sent you screenshots of mei mei's instagram story….. with suguru. the first was a shirtless picture with him facing away from the camera (sweats hanging dangerously on his waist).

you had to blink a couple times to make sure you were REALLY seeing this shit.

the next one was a video of him at a party pouring a bottle of crown royal into mei's mouth. you were floored, each second you spent watching it, felt as though your skin was getting hotter. but the TRUE icing on the cake was the last one. the last one that led to you avoiding and ignoring suguru for 3 weeks.

the last picture was of him driving. geto looked fine as fuck when he drove. he knew that, you knew that, everybody knows that suguru geto behind the wheel was a wet dream come true. the ‘i miss u sugu~’ glaring at you from the bottom of the photo. but what really made your eye twitch, was the fact that mei mei was in the passenger seat. YOUR fucking seat. designated to you by the owner himself. at this point you didn’t know whose ass to beat first and you honestly didn’t give a shit. it really was gonna depend on who crossed your line of sight first. you gathered yourself enough to get through the rest of your lecture before bolting out of the hall. you quickly shoot hakari back a text,

‘good thing u don get paid 4 thinkin🤨’

you locked your phone before heading to the campus bus stop. today has absolutely drained you, usually geto would pick you up and take you back to your apartment but you honestly didn’t feel like seeing him. as you trudge your way to the exit you feel your phone vibrate once more.

sugu..｡oO (☆): wya mama im outside waitin for u ?

you rolled your eyes at the message and sat at the bench as you watched the bus pull up. ‘he wants to give somebody a ride so bad maybe he should go find that fuckin bitch’ you thought bitterly. you knew you weren’t being fair, shoko was a really good friend to you- she always has been! now her classmate on the other hand…. lets just say there’s a reason you two don’t attend the same functions. but geto was close to her family so there were definitely moments him and mei mei could have snuck off together….. fuck. suguru wasn’t your boyfriend. you weren’t his girlfriend. but you at least thought maybe he’d…..

you shake your head and get on the bus. as you turn on your headphones you see that suguru sent you some more texts.

sugu..｡oO (☆): y/n ???

sugu..｡oO (☆): wats goin on baby y u not talkin to me ?

sugu..｡oO (☆): did i do sumn wrong ? wtvr it is im sorry dove :(

sugu..｡oO (☆): cmon y/n seriously, wtf is goin on im fr gettin worried abt u.

each text filled your body with a disgusting amount of rage. the sense of betrayal you felt from his actions was more than you could handle.

y/n🕸️: takin the bus from now on.

sugu..｡oO (☆): y/n what the fuck are you talkin about.

you didn't bother replying. you just put your headphones on and watched the bus travel your familiar route home. your phone continuously buzzed, no doubt suguru but you didn’t have the energy to engage with anyone right now. you just wanted to go home and smoke…… smoke the weed geto gave you….. well you can't have it all.

from then on you avoided your best friend like he was the fuckin plague. at first you thought you were being discreet with it... until people started blowin up your phone. see, suguru didn't exactly hide the fact that he took care of you; that he'd always be by your side. so for people to see one without the other was a surprising development. and suguru wasn't taking it well AT ALL.

( karis bitch ass: y/n ion kno wut geto did but pls take him back he wont stop bitchin!!!!

suguru went to a party thinking you'd be there: suprise! you weren't because you'd heard he was going so you stayed home. apparently he spent the whole time whining your name with his favorite peach crown royal in his arms on the sofa. it would have been cute if you weren't so mad at him.

ino sent you a video of suguru LITERALLY pushing a girl away on some, "get away you're not y/n" with that stupidly cute pout on his face.

even yuki was surprised about you icing geto out. sending you voice memos about the shit geto does while they're out. "no y/n the best part was when he tried to give the girl the bag she tried to ask for his number he fuckin mushed her and said 'sorry im married, her name is y/n and she can fight' ooouuu she was pissed!")

it was really hard being mad at suguru...

over the past three weeks you had been a bit lonely without him. sure you had the weed and a plethora of clothes he left at your place to keep you company, but you missed HIM. the way he'd stick his cold feet on you, how he always cheats at go fish, how he'll come over and play your PS5 while you sit in the back and cheer him on, the way he looks at you. you miss suguru so fuckin much.

but you also feel betrayed.

geto KNOWS that you and mei mei don't like each other, him being the one to hold you back from her on several occasions. you know they had a thing in the past but.... why would suguru be so fucking SWEET to you if he was just gonna go crawling back to her... it didn't make any fuckin sense to you. and unfortunately, you held a grudge. one that went so far as to even go to someone else for weed. in the entire time you've known suguru, you ALWAYS got your stuff from him. no matter what was going on between you two. but this time? this time you felt really hurt, so you turned to your backup plug; sukuna.

thing is, you've never actually bought from sukuna before. he knew about your weird thing with geto and he showed support his own way from the outside. you had never failed to notice that every picture or video someone sent you of suguru, sukuna was always nearby.

(what you didn't know was that sukuna was the one who had to listen to the long-haired males woes. sukuna was honestly getting sick and tired of it...)

but imagine the pinkette's surprise when he gets a text from you that friday night asking to pick up!

y/n☽˚｡⋆: hi 'kuna ! can i get a zip pretty pls ? id ask geto but i dont wanna bother him when hes busy haha

aside from the man in question being attached to his hip (that is no exaggeration sukuna is literally sitting on the couch with his best friends arms wrapped around his waist listening to him come up with reason 34248 'why y/n is so fuckin mad'). sukuna's tattooed hands had quickly taken a screenshot of your message to send to the man in his lap. he quickly grabbed a chunk of his friends inky locks with his free hand and shook.

"hey, idiot. check your fuckin phone i think you'll wanna see this"

suguru lifted his head and gazed at his roommate with bleary bloodshot eyes, the blunt from a few hours ago had settled nicely in his skin (made it easier to wrack his brain and figure out what the fuck he did wrong). he rolled his eyes and flopped back down into the couch with a deep and heavy sigh.

"man what's the fuckin point. y/n is mad at me and wont tell me why so if she's not on my shit then what's the point of even havin a fuckin phone y'know?"

sukuna rolled his eyes and snorted,

"yeah i guess that's why she just texted me askin' for a zip, huh?"

"she fuckin what?" suguru shot up quick and grabbed his phone. his brows furrowed and he began to mutter to himself angrily. sukuna watched as suguru's frown got deeper with each second he looked at the screen. finally, he swore loudly before grabbing his jacket and his keys. "man i gotta go 'cuz now she's playin with me and im not about to let that happen." sukuna watched as geto threw on his hoodie and sneakers and ran out of their apartment.

as the plug ran down the steps he took out his phone to let you know he was on his way to you.

[IMAGE ATTACHED]

my cinnamon apple <3: u got me fucked up y/n, im omw.

which lead you to your current issue, trying to figure out what the fuck you're gonna do. you had planned to be mad at geto for at least a couple more days so him showing up like this wasn't something you were exactly ready for. you quickly scrambled to get yourself together and prepare for the inevitable conversation. you were sure he'd notice you dressed in his clothes (you had on his spider-man jacket and black headband to hold back your 613 lace). you had already rolled yourself a couple blunts so you decided to light up until the moment of truth.

as each hit filled your lungs with smoke, you could feel the anxiety fade. you hadn't anticipated meeting suguru so soon. and you're terrified of what this conversation could possibly mean for your friendship. on one hand if he decides to pursue a relationship with mei mei thats his business, but on the other, you know that it would be at the expense of your relationship with him. you haven't been able to be in a room with her ever since she outed your little sibling for being nonbinary. it had been something only a few people knew about but somehow mei's nosy ass found out and told anyone she could get to listen. now your family never backs down from a fight, your parents made sure of that. but it gets exhausting always being an outcast (being 3 years older you couldn't do too much to help, but at least they had yuji, nobara, and megumi around).

but when they came home one afternoon covered in bruises with a tired smile on their face saying, 'i won, i won' over and over again, you couldnt just sit idly. you went and showed that bitch who the fuck you were. and who you were was a fuckin maniac. you had slammed mei mei's head into a window, broke her nose, bruised her ribs, and gave her a black eye. suguru had to pull you off of her that day because you couldn't calm down. had the boys let you that day, you could have really beat the brakes off that girl. which is why her scary ass always runs away when you enter the room. instead she likes to talk shit and throw shots at you on social media.

the day of the fight, when mei was at the hospital she told doctors she had been mugged because she was too prideful to admit that she got her ass whooped.

just thinking about the shit you did to her that day brought a wicked grin to your face as you continued to smoke your blunt. if suguru wants a fuckin encore, you'll give him one alright... this blunt had given you time to think and fester on why you were so angry with your best friend. he was there for you for your worst moments, he held you as your body shuddered with sobs seeing your sibling lying in the hospital bed. he was there after your first date. he walked you to and from classes after she tried to spread a particularly nasty rumor about you. he was there when you cried yourself to sleep after your first boyfriend told you there is no way hed bring a girl that looks like you home. suguru has seen you in ways that nobody else in the world has. and his proximity to a person who actively tries to do you harm is just... unacceptable.

as time had went on you even decided to pour yourself a glass of wine and wait in the living room with your last blunt. you were really going to give suguru a piece of your mind...

not too long after you migrated to your living room and started smoking, you heard rapid footsteps outside your door followed by frantic knocks. you took your sweet time unraveling yourself from your blanket on the couch to head to the door. you opened it to find your best friend red, sweaty, and panting.... with a backpack that you were sure contained some kind of peace offering for you.

you wordlessly let geto into your apartment, taking a long sip from your glass and an even longer drag from your blunt. you blew out a sigh as he wasted no time in heading straight to your room. as soon as he set his bag down next to your bed, geto whirled around to face you with wide eyes filled with something you couldnt quite place.

"y/n baby what is goin on. first you wanna take the bus home by yourself knowin damn well how unsafe it is. then you wanna avoid me, ME! for weeks, not a peep from you, nada nothing! you even turned your read receipts off for me mamas, you completely iced me out. now i gotta find out that your tryna buy from other people? what the hell happened, what did i do to make you this upset at me?"

by the end of his speech, geto had inched closer and closer to you before reaching out to grab your hand and pull you with him on the bed. you huffed angrily before spitting out,

"didn't think you'd miss me too much since you've been spending so much fuckin time with mei mei lately. i saw her instagram stories suguru, i know you've been with her so don't even try to lie!" you twisted and tried to get away but he had a vice-like grip around your midsection.

"woah woah woah, these are very serious accusations sweetheart. now i haven't been with her for over a year you know that, i slept with her a few times but once you told me how it made you feel i nipped it in the bud. so what stories are you talkin about, hm?" suguru had leaned back from you so that he could make eye contact. he wanted you to know that he was telling the truth, he knew he was stupid to have slept with mei mei in the first night but one drunken night led to two which led to 5 or 6 times before you finally ripped him a new one for it. since then he had actually blocked mei mei on everything, he wouldn't even sell to her. shoko or utahime would always pick it up.

the reluctance was clear as day on your face, so geto quickly whipped out his phone to show you his blocked lists on his phone. instagram, twitter, snapchat, hell he even blocked her on tiktok, discord, and her telephone number. the longer you looked through his phone the more confused you felt. then what the hell....?

"so then what the fuck is this?" you showed suguru the screenshots you were sent of mei's story featuring him. his brows furrowed in confusion and his mouth itched low in irritation before geto let out a scoff.

"baby these are old as shit, i didnt even know she had these let alone posted them. see, this one in my car was literally the last time i messed with her. and she was only in my car because she had no other way to get home. all of these were before i got your initials done love." suguru zoomed in on the picture of him driving, and sure enough the red cursive ink was missing from the side of his face (you didnt know this but he had gotten that tattoo done that same day. dropped off mei and went straight to his shop).

you quickly scrolled through the other texts hakari sent you.... and they were all missing that red tattoo... well this is embarrassing.

"oh." while you were scrolling, geto's face had gotten softer as he watched the realization cross your features.

"yeah, 'oh' is right. now you wanna tell me what's goin on? you really been throwin me for a loop here these past few weeks. it really hurt my feelings seein you text sukuna for that zip. i mean, i know we're all friends and if you were gonna shop with anyone im glad it was him... but did you forget what i said? i promised to take care of you, so why you not lettin me?" geto peered at you with such a sad expression and you started to feel bad.

you really didn't think he would be this affected by it, yeah he'd be bitter you shopped with someone else but you thought he would get over it. you didn't know you hurt him this bad. you situate yourself and him on the bed so that you could wrap your arms around his shoulders. you knew that tonight would include a much deeper conversation with him, one that you've been steadily avoiding since you were younger. but maybe its good that this happened, this way you can both move on with your lives.

"i'm so so sorry suguru. i thought they were recent since i hadn't seen them before. i should've known better as soon as i saw mei mei posted it. i was just so mad seeing you with her. i mean, after seeing everything i had been through with her... it was so hard to keep my cool when i found out you slept with her. it made me think about a lot, a lot about us."

you shifted to grab his face and look your first love in his widened eyes,

"suguru geto, i'm in love with you. i've been in love with you for the past 6 years. honestly? i've probably been in love with you my whole life. seein her post made me realize that i'm tired of hiding it. i don't want you treating anyone else like you do me, and i don't care how selfish that sounds. no one in this world loves you like i do, i love the way you throw gummies at satoru till he wakes up. i love how you buy kento weird ties for christmas every year. i love how you say you don't snore even though you totally do. i love that you pinky promised to take care of me and haven't broken it once. but you made a vow to be with me as soon as you promised, so are you gonna to take responsibility for what you've done to me or am i gonna have to get someone else to do it?"

your confession had started to get more aggressive as you went on, but that was just how much he meant to you. the more you talked the more you realized how much you had been holding back. loving suguru was never difficult, but keeping yourself in check was. wrestling your feelings of jealousy with each of his hookups was a challenge; they never stuck around for long but each had the nerve to test you. one had even tried texting you off his phone on some shady shit trying, but you quickly told her to give him back his phone before you played double dutch with her vocal chords.

as you held sugurus face, you could see the information process. his eyes were filled with such an intense emotion it took you aback as the biggest smile you'd ever seen danced across his face. the tips of his ears started to burn bright red as he gazed up at you.

"god i'm so fucking in love with you" you quickly shove him away in embarrassment as your love lets out a loud and happy laugh.

"sugu-!" you shout, he's so fucking unserious sometimes.

"i'm serious moonlight, you think just any girl gets tatted on me? baby i have your initials, birthday, and our zodiac signs. i didn't think i'd be tellin you this, but my very first tattoo was dedicated to you sweetheart."

now you were confused, "what? no it wasn't, your first tattoo was the one of-"

"-the stick figure? no my darling, that was the first one i showed you. i didn't wanna show you this one because i knew you'd be mad it was my first tattoo. but i couldn't imagine anything but you being the first piece of permanent ink on me." suguru could see the confusion still lingering on your face, so he slid away from you for a moment to slip off his pants. you could feel your face twist as you watched suguru strip himself half naked in your room...until you saw what he was trying to show you. he had pulled up the left leg of his boxers up a little bit, revealing a ring of words coiled around his upper thigh. you and the bright red ink practically had a staring contest. your full name (first, middle, and last), sat almost like a garter around him. the thought of that.....made your head spin.

you looked back at him and briefly caught his eyes before he swiftly turned away. he looked... embarrassed? suguru rarely got embarrassed, sum bullshit about 'bein too old for that shit. i did what i did or said what i said.' this nigga think he grown or something...

before you had a chance to respond, geto beat you to it,

"look i-i know that you might be upset and i'm sorry i didn't say anything to you before. i just... i didn't know how to tell you? you were always on me about getting 'something that has meaning' to me and that's you. but shit happened and then after a while too long had passed and it felt too late? if that makes sense? and when i first brought it up you didn't like the idea but honestly how could i not? y/n i've been in love with you since we were 15. i knew as soon as i got in the game that i was gonna take care of you and i meant that. but i never thought you'd feel the same way. kento never failed to point out that all my hookups looked like you in some way, i never thought this would happen. so i was content to love you the way i used to, but i can't believe it took TOJI of all people to stop being scared of my feelings. so these past couple months i've been tryna show you that i want you. but apparently i didn't do a good enough job."

you whined in protest. by now you had found yourself situated on sugurus lap with one hand rubbing your thigh and the other tucking your head under his chin.

"i know you don't think so ma, but if i did, we wouldn't be here right now yeah? i wanted to take it slow, have you gradually fall in love with me like those movies and books i know you like reading. i just wanted to do right by you moonlight. im sorry that all this happened before i could."

suguru held you tightly and began to rub your back to sooth you. a few tears had slipped from your eyes and you wipe them on your sleeve. youd felt his hands pulls yours down, forcing you to meet his soft gaze.

"y/n, i love you. i love how you always crochet me gifts, i love how you always wear sweaters no matter the weather, i love how trust me to help you take care of your hair, i love how you can't cook a pot of rice- don't look at me like that you know damn well you burn that shit every time. i love the way you love. i love the way you love ME. you've been my number one since the day i met you, and that hasn't changed. i know my past history with my partners has been shoddy to say the least, but never for a second think that i felt for them what i've felt for you my whole fucking life. and if it's okay with you, i'd really like the chance to show you, truly, how much i mean it when i say that i love you."

suguru gazed into your eyes with a level of honesty you've only seen a few times. you wanted to give him hell for all the slow burn that he put you through... but how can you? the love of your life just told you he feels the same, the only thing you could do was say,

"suguru, you're such a fuckin idiot. stop talking and kis-"

before you could finish, your love surged forward and connected his lips to yours. kissing suguru geto was like trying to breathe underwater, you happily let him take the lead; loving the way he dominated the kiss. his lips were smoother than you'd ever imagine (all those years of reminding him to wear chapstick payed off). you could almost feel his heart pounding against yours, the previous anxiety you'd felt melting away as you both poured yourselves into a moment that was long overdue. his scorching hands had begun to move until one rested on your lower back while the other led your legs to wrap around his waist. when you had both FINALLY decided to pull away from each other and catch your breaths, suguru couldn't contain his excitement. he quickly twisted your bodies and tackled you to the bed, wrapping you in his arms with an airy laugh,

"FUCK holy shit y/n does this mean we go together? like real bad? 'cuz i've been waiting for this moment for quite literally most of my life so i'm a little geeked right now. hOLY SHIT- can i use your back as a rolling tray? that would be so hot-" you quickly cut suguru off by kissing him again, relishing in his moans as you use his hair to guide his lips on yours. as you once again separate from each other, you smile at him. your best friend. your other half. you giggle and move your hand to lovingly caress his face before responding,

"yes, suguru. we go together REAL fucking bad."

THE END

#jjk x black reader #geto suguru #getou suguru #suguru x reader #anime x black!reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x reader #black fanfiction #black reader #black yn #plug suguru

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mixtape-racha · 11 months

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the drug in me is you | choi beomgyu

words: 3.94k // warnings: rockstar!beomgyu x bandmate!reader, vocalist!beomgyu, bassist!reader, friends to lovers, angst, lots of plot, harboured crush, crying, l-bombs, confessions, emotionally intelligent but stunted beomgyu, mentioned jeongin and heeseung as band members, me not knowing how to end a fic lolz

everytime, without fail, when you came offstage after a gig, you’d be met by the grinning face of beomgyu bouncing around the green room. genuinely, every single time without fail. it became a routine, a reaction you expected. and it was so, so fucking endearing. the way his eyes would shine, running around thanking and congratulating all of the other band members and the backstage team. the way he preened under praise, the way he giggled when he got told he did well.

sometimes it confused you - how was that the same man who was on stage a mere 5 minutes ago, dark and seductive as he sang sweet words to harsh melodies, who had women throwing themselves at his feet for just a second glance? but at the end of it all, he was always your beomie. the same short and skinny kid who was paired with you for a project in 8th grade and you hadn’t been able to get rid of since. the same kid who held you through your first heartbreak, and held you even tighter as you sobbed at your first gig together. the same kid who told you he couldn’t be in a band without you, because there’s no one else he’d rather have beside him on stage, playing bass so beautifully.

yeah, he was your beomie, and nothing could change that. not even all the groupies begging for a moment alone with him, nor the constant shipping of him with random celebrities online. while you weren’t a couple, or even close, those who knew you knew that he would always be yours, and you would always be his.

until he wasn’t. until one of the groupies that had been following your band for a while managed to get beomgyu wrapped around her finger. they weren’t dating - by no means was beomgyu looking for a relationship with her, but he could’ve fooled you. your smoke sessions in the back of the tour bus after a show soon became non-existent, beomgyu opting to take his favorite groupie to a nearby hotel instead, only waltzing back to the bus at the last possible second before you needed to leave to head to your next venue.

for a while you pinned your annoyance down to his unprofessionalism, pissed off that he would put a random girl before the career you had both worked so hard for. but after a while, you began to realize it wasn’t about her at all. it was about you. you felt neglected by your best friend, someone you’d had by your side for so many years. and it stung, especially knowing how much you’d sacrificed for him over the years.

it all came to a head at the final show of your tour - the exceedingly impulsive flirting between all of the band members, the bottles of beer being drunk on stage giving you all that final confidence boost you needed. the screams of fans, the cheering as you finished your set and said your goodbyes. all four of you were ecstatic, but even the other members were sick of beomgyu’s constant abandonment given their reactions.

“right, well, i guess you’re off for the night now, beom? we’re probably gonna go back to the bus and smoke anyway.” jeongin asked, face hard as he anticipated beomgyu’s reaction.

“actually,” beomgyu sneered, sick of everyone’s disapproval of his actions - it wasn’t like he was the only person in history to fuck a groupie. “was gonna take us all out for drinks, but fuck the lot of you.”

you were mad at beomgyu. you really were, and you shouldn’t fall back into his web so easily. but after knowing him so long, that’s exactly what you did, time and time again.

“i don’t really fancy smoking tonight, i’ll come find a bar with you, beomie.” you smiled, ignoring heeseung rolling his eyes in your peripheral vision. however, beomgyu looked elated, quickly pulling you into a half-hug.

“see? my girl’ll never let me down.”

god you hated the way your body reacted to that. but nonetheless, you wandered out of the venue with beomgyu, fixated on finding a bar nearby that wouldn’t be overrun with people who had left your gig earlier. that was the difficult part - because as much as you loved your fans, you didn’t want to be overrun with people when you were trying to have a chill night. you were real people too.

luckily, it wasn’t hard to find a quiet bar on the outskirts of the area surrounding the venue. you were quick to grab a stool near the bar, fluttering your eyelashes at beomgyu as you told him that if he really loved you, he’d buy you a drink. that was a routine with the pair of you - even though every single time, beomgyu was going to buy your drink anyway.

but this time it was slightly different. it was kind of awkward between the two of you. the first time in a few weeks you’d been alone, not having your best friend torn away from you by an over-excited groupie. and nothing could go your way, could it? because you’d barely started your second drink before lo-and-behold - your least favorite groupie wandered into the bar, eyes instantly fixated on beomgyu.

your heart hammered in your chest, anger overtaking you. had he arranged to meet her here? was he going to leave you to go and fuck her? well, not if you left first. pushing the stool back harshly, the scraping of the feet on the floor making beomgyu wince, you grabbed your bag, fumbling to shove a cigarette in your mouth.

“i’m going for a smoke. let me know when hanging out with me is more important than a cheap fuck.” you sneered, not giving him a moment to respond before you were stomping out of the bar. you knew you were probably being dramatic, but you were beyond caring in that moment.

why else would she be in that bar, of all the bars nearby? was it not enough when beomgyu had her in a new hotel room every night of the tour? was she convinced they were together now? or worse… were they actually together?

you just couldn’t believe the audacity of beomgyu! he hadn’t even followed you out to make sure you were okay, and that realization had you heading back in the direction of the tour bus, cigarette in hand. fuck beomgyu - you’d hang out with jeongin and heeseung instead. they were always fun to get high with - you could get a pizza and watch coraline, like last time you all got stoned together.

you hadn’t got further than twenty feet before you heard a call of your name, turning on your feet to see beomgyu running from the bar to catch up with you, calling out for you to wait. it stung, in all honesty, and you didn’t even want to hear him out. but you knew he wouldn’t give up until you had, so it was probably better to get it over with.

stamping your cigarette out, you folded your arms as he came to a halt in front of you, panting slightly.

“what the fuck was that about?” he wheezed, brows furrowed in confusion. “why are you leaving? we just got here! i don’t get why you’re in a shitty mood all of a sudden!”

you scoffed at his words, a sneer on your face. “aren’t you leaving someone behind, gyuie?” you spat out the nickname you’d heard the infamous groupie giggle at him so many times. “i’m sure she’s waiting for you to drag her to the nearest hotel. can’t fuck her on every tour stop and leave out the last one, can you?”

beomgyu’s face hardened at that, and you couldn’t believe the audacity he had to get annoyed at you.

“is that why you’re throwing a bitch fit? seriously, y/n, we all sleep with fans. i don’t get why its such a big deal— i didn’t complain when you brought that poser back to the tour bus last year!”

you were enraged at his tone. how dare he try and flip this on you? shaking your head at him, you took a step away, ready to leave.

“thats not the problem, gyu. the problem is that you’ve completely abandoned m- us. you’ve abandoned us all tour for some pussy you’ll forget in a month.”

“abandoned?!” he spluttered, your words catching him off-guard. “i haven’t abandoned anyone!”

“when was the last time you hung out with us after a show, beomgyu? the last time you sat with us and told us all we did a good job, that it was a good show and you enjoyed it? when was the last time you hung out with me?” you voice raised in pitch as your feelings came tumbling out. “i’m your best friend. at least i’m supposed to be! we haven’t hung out at all, and i miss it. i miss you. you’re neglecting me, and its not fair for me to put all the effort it. i can’t do it anymore!”

when you were met with stunned silence, you continued walking away, not wanting to see his response or hear his excuses. you just wanted to get back to the bus, sleep and go home in the morning. take a break. maybe go on holiday - spend some time with yourself. if beomgyu wasn’t willing to reciprocate your energy, maybe you weren’t supposed to be best friends for life after all.

you couldn’t help the way tears built in your eyes, beginning to roll down your face. after all these years, all it took was a girl to rip beomgyu away from you. not even a girlfriend, just a girl who he enjoyed keeping around for a few hours and then leaving to come running home. god… you were a mess. you shouldn’t be this upset about it. its not like you were in love with him.

oh… oh god.

you stopped in your tracks, heart thumping in your chest. was that the issue? were you harboring feelings towards beomgyu that you never wanted to admit to yourself? god, why did this have to be happening to you? it was why you’d go to the ends of the earth for him, why you supported all his dreams and bad decisions. why you would drop all your plans for him in a heartbeat. god, you were fucked.

you swore you’d never walked back to the bus faster, waving jeongin and heeseung off when they questioned you on where beomgyu was. you were fast to crawl into your bunk, plugging in your headphones as the other boys began discussing what they believed beomgyu was doing - or, who he was doing.

it was hard to keep your tears silent, but you’d be damned if you let them see you so upset, so you tried your hardest. you didn't know when you fell asleep, or when beomgyu got back to the bus, but you were too emotionally exhausted to care.

you weren’t sure when you fell asleep, or what time it was when you woke up. the bus had pulled into a service station for a rest stop, and you cringed as your joints cracked when you jumped out of your bunk. giving your manager a small wave, you rolled a cigarette, tucking a lighter into your pockets, and stepped off the bus into the sunrise.

“sleep good?”

you jumped, whirling around to see beomgyu perched on the floor next to the bus, rolling his own cigarette.

“guess so…” you mumbled, the lighter becoming more interesting by the second as you sparked up and took a much-needed drag of nicotine. it was hard to avoid beomgyu’s eyes, especially when they were boring into the side of your head, so you took the bait and perched on the floor next to him. “you sleep alright?”

he shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “decent. would’ve slept better if i knew why my favorite girl was mad at me, though.”

the words fell out of his mouth so easily it made you feel nauseous. god, what was wrong with you? suddenly the world felt too loud, too bright. your chest tightened as you shook your head at him. words seemed to fail you, so you opted to rest your head on his shoulder, arms wrapping around one of his.

“not mad, gyu. never mad. just…. disappointed? hurt? i dunno, i just felt a bit neglected.”

he sighed, and you mentally braced yourself for another yelling match, shoulders tense… but surprisingly it never came. instead beomgyu’s hand landed on your shoulder, rubbing it comfortingly as he shook his head.

“i get it… n’i wanna say sorry for making you feel that way. guess i kinda got caught up in the moment, huh? if… if it helps, she knew from the start that as soon as tour was done i’d probably never see her again, and she was okay with it. got what she wanted, i guess.”

your heart ached at his words, even the thought of him seeing her making you feel physically sick. but you needed to push that aside, no matter what - you need beomgyu as a friend, and you couldn’t jeopardize that.

“we just missed you, that’s all. the bus got too quiet without you.”

after your heart-to-heart that day, you and beomgyu never brought up the infamous groupie again - it was irrelevant, because you fell straight back into your regular pattern. no tour, no schedules, so you got to do whatever you wanted. your managers had forced you into a break for the rest of the year - which, much to heeseung’s dismay, meant no studio sessions until the new year. after the year you’d had, you deserved the break, and your team would make sure you got it no matter the cost.

quite early into your careers taking off, you and beomgyu had decided to move in together - it meant less bills, split rent, and not having to worry about 2 homes while you were away touring the world. in hindsight, it wasn’t your best idea, and given how awkward you were in close proximity to him lately, part of you wished you could go back in time and never agree to moving into his house.

unfortunately for you, beomgyu wasn’t entirely stupid and was relatively quick to pick up on your unintentional avoidance of him - at least, it started off unintentionally anyway. the two fo you were supposed to go out tonight, meet a group of high school friends at a restaurant, but a mere 4 hours before you canceled. he didn’t even know at first - seeing your message pop up in the allocated groupchat and scanning it; the words “sorry” and “unwell” catching his eyes. you weren’t unwell in the slightest - he’d just heard you on the phone to your mom and you sounded absolutely fine.

he didn’t get a chance to confront you for about an hour, ambushing you in the kitchen when you finally left your room to grab a bottle of cola.

“unwell, huh? probably shouldn’t be drinking a soda and loading up on salty snacks, then, should you?”

you cringed upon hearing his voice, turning from the fridge to find him leaning against the doorframe, eyes narrowed as he studied your figure. there were two ways you could handle this - genuinely feign being unwell, earning the issue that he might stay at home to look after you if he believed you, or burst into tears on the spot. and being the eloquent person you were, you went for the latter option. not that you had much of a choice, seeing how beomgyu looked at you with a teasing smile on his lips but such care in his eyes.

those eyes widened as a sob suddenly racked your body, rushing over and hands scrambling to pull you into a hug. he didn’t know where this had come from, and he was baffled. had he missed something? all he did was tease you for your awful snacking habits like always.

“hey- hey, are you okay? i’m sorry if it sounded like i was accusing you– you’d just seemed so excited for this dinner lately!” his voice raised in pitch as he tried to comfort you, and it made you feel awful, another cry ringing through the kitchen.

“i’m so sorry, gyu-! just can’t do it, wanna go to bed, m’sorry-”

he shushed you so carefully, as if afraid you might break, and you almost can’t take it. you wrap your arms around him, unable to stop your cries and whimpers. its like all your emotions from the past few weeks have come tumbling out at once, and you have no way to stop them, and it terrifies you. what do you tell him when he asks why you’re upset? what do you tell him when he holds you close and tells you that you can trust him with anything, that he’ll do anything he can to help you?

“d’you want me to stay home? i– i can cancel, i don’t mind! we can just order in some food and watch some shitty movies, that always cheers you up? yeah?”

he sounded so painfully confused, and it sent a shiver down your spine. how much longer could you do this? how much longer could you live with him, work with him, share every aspect of your life with him, without telling him how you felt? deep down, you felt like you were betraying him by keeping it a secret. he cared so much about you, and always told you everything - like your opinion mattered most to him, and that your reactions alone could define how he acted on a daily basis.

“you don’t have to cancel, gyu. you can go, i don’t mind, i just… i can’t sit in a restaurant with all those girls fawning over you while i sit there like an idiot.”

subconsciously, you prayed that he wouldn’t read between the lines, not pick up on the true meaning of your words, but he was more emotionally intelligent than you gave him credit for. he pulled away from the hug, your face cupped between his large hands and his eyes studying you carefully.

“i’m going to cancel,” he said firmly, voice serious as he held you. “i’m going to message and cancel, and we’re going to have a night-in together, and we’re going to talk, okay?”

he planted a soft kiss on your forehead as he walked away, something he always did, but this time it felt different. he stopped when he reached the threshold back into the living room, turning to you with a soft smile on his face.

“go take a shower, okay? get in some comfy clothes, and i’ll meet you back here in about an hour.”

god knows that hour passed too quickly. you were so stressed the entire time that passed, overthinking in the shower, putting too many decisions into what comfy clothes to wear. why were you trying to impress him? there was no need, he was your friend about to sit down and have a serious chat with you. even as you took careful steps towards the living room, greeted by the sight of beomgyu sat on the couch under a blanket - harry potter loaded up onto the tv screen - your heart felt like it was beating so fast it might explode.

he didn’t seem to notice you until you sat, quick to toss you a blanket and gesture for you to sit closer.

“why are you being shy? come sit with me, stupid.” while his voice held its usual teasing tone, there was something else in it - something you didn’t recognize as you scooted across the cushion closer to your best friend.

he didn’t start the movie yet, hand dancing over the remote before pulling away and shifting in his seat to face you.

“you wanna talk? or d’you wanna order food and watch the movie first?”

you sighed softly, knowing no matter how much you wanted to put this off that you couldn’t do that anymore. so instead, you nodded, mimicking his position.

“i can tell you’ve figured it out, gyu. so just get this over with please?”

he hesitated for a second before nodding, fidgeting with his fingers.

“you like me, don’t you? as more than a friend.. and that’s why you’ve been acting so strange lately. i knew something was up when you started avoiding me, but it just took me a while to piece it all together. can i– can i just ask; how long? i wanna make sure i have everything straight in my head.”

“i think i always have, i just never realized it. i kind of,” you sighed again, words difficult to articulate. “i finally started being honest with myself at the end of tour– i just didn’t want to spring it on you and ruin our friendship, so i’ve been trying to force myself out of it. i really do like you, gyu, a lot. more than i’ve ever liked anyone, god, i think i’m in fucking love with you. i just didn’t want to risk our friendship or our careers.”

you teared up slightly as you finished speaking, the silence of the room deafening as beomgyu processed your words.

“i don’t..” he stopped, trying to figure out how to best voice his feelings, not wanting to hurt you at all. “i think i’ve always known we were supposed to be together. i like you - of course i do - and i’d be stupid if i didn’t say i’ve always found you attractive...”

you huffed at that, folding your arms around yourself and effectively cutting off his words.

“you can’t force yourself into reciprocating just for the sake of my feelings, gyu. honestly, i just need closure. i need you to reject me, tell me you only see me as a friend, so i can move on. i can’t keep torturing myself by being in love with you, its not fair.”

“y/n, please, just listen to me.” he pleaded, grasping your hands in his. you looked up at him when you heard the desperation in his voice, and your heart broke at the pain on his features. you didn’t realize by torturing yourself, you’d end up torturing him too in the process. god, you hated human emotions.

“y/n, i– i want to, okay? i want to love you, just as much as you love me. i know i’ve always been particularly inept when it comes to emotions, and healthy relationships, but i want to change. i just– i need time. i’m going to learn to love you, no matter what it takes, i’m going to work on myself and be who you deserve.”

you couldn’t help the tears that rolled down your face again, salty drops falling from your skin onto the material of the couch beneath you. but beomgyu wasn’t finished spilling all of himself, oh no. and what could you do except listen?

“its always been you, and i’ve been too immature to develop that. who else knows me better, hmm? i’ve been too wrapped up in this rock ‘n roll lifestyle, that i haven’t allowed myself to realize that everything meaningful has always been right here. will you… will you wait for me? will you let me learn? teach me how to love?”

“of course i will, gyu,” you sobbed, pulling a hand away from his to wipe away to wetness from your cheeks. “i’d wait forever for you, whether i wanted to or not.”

taglist: @pretty-racha @demetrisscarf @hwangrimi @mari-18s-world @bgomtori @90steele @l0stindigo @banggyu0308 @takemehye @itstrashjustrash @bangtancultsposts @kangfication @breakmyheartlater @be0mgyulovrrr @gr4veb4be @yevene @watariisbestboy @zuzuhasablog @hearts4tubatu

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bettyfrommars · 1 year

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I'm on Fire//older!biker!Eddie Munson x fem!artist!Reader//90's au//Part 7

⚠️Cautions: 18+Only pls, MDNI, eventual smut, mention of smut, mention of erection, flirting, crushing on each other, reader gets fired, alcohol consumption, jealous!Eddie, biker!Eddie, boxer!Eddie, biker!Steve, relationship drama, threats against loved ones, hints at a violent past, vindictive exes, aggression (not at reader), mention of handgun, angst, mutual pining, slow burn. Word count: 7.6k

Series Masterlist

Suddenly unemployed and in the wind, you wander into the bar where biker!Steve Harrington works the door, and new opportunities arise. Just as you and Eddie are navigating getting closer, someone from Eddie's past drops a bomb on him that he can't ignore, and he does his best to protect you from the backlash. Dirty deeds get done not so dirt cheap. I'm on Fire 90's playlist here

A/N: Nothing really, just wanted to tell those of you who have been supporting and encouraging this story how much you all mean to me, and how much I love hearing from you. Big love to my bestie for helping me put together the playlist for this series, it's all I've been listening to lately. Oh ALSO, I'm working on a smutty oneshot in honor of biker!Steve's character in this story, a little companion piece, *cumming* soon 🫦 biker!Steve oneshot here

———-

I'm on Fire Part 7: The Velvet Hammer

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Your eyes flew open early on Monday morning as dawn was barely breaking, to find that the emotions of sadness and fear were gone for the moment: they had been replaced by a white-hot anger that burned in your chest.

In a burst, you cursed, threw your covers off, and had an imaginary conversation with your ex-boss Judith, complete with shaking your fist in the air, eyebrows jutting together. She couldn’t just let you go and replace you without any warning---the whole thing was absurd. You made your coffee and went back to your room so that you could avoid Katie as she got ready for work. You weren’t mad at her; you just didn’t want to have to answer any questions or mull it over. In the state you were in, you were worried that you might snap at her for no reason.

A tiny part of you still hoped (prayed) that it was all a misunderstanding, and maybe you had some vacation days coming that you had simply slipped your mind. That small glimmer of possibility was immediately stamped out with a waffle-sole, steel toe boot when you found your other assistant Holly already behind the front desk when she hadn’t originally been scheduled to be there until noon. Her presence alone was not the final straw---it was the look on her face. The second she saw you, she blushed and got flustered, pretending to organize papers, trying overly hard to appear nonchalant.

You were hoping for Judith, that was the bitch you wanted to see, but Holly informed you with quivering hands that she had just left a half hour ago to catch a flight to Cozumel for a “rejuvenation retreat”. You could tell that being involved in any type of conflict, even passively, was making Holly’s anxiety spike.

“She told me to give you this,” Holly said, reluctantly sliding an envelope across the desk, and then in a whisper, she added, “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to be the one to--”

You did your best to shake your head and smile and told her it wasn’t her fault. You walked to the other side of the gallery to check the envelope. It was your final paycheck, along with a typed note that basically said, “Thank you for the work you’ve done, but I’ve decided to hire another manager that is a better fit for the gallery. I am longer in need of your services. Best of luck in your future endeavors. Namaste, Judith.”

It was that Namaste that had you breathing out your nose like a dragon, crumpling the note up in a tight ball, nostrils flaring. The letter wasn’t even signed; Judith probably made Holly type it.

You went to get your things out of the cubby in the back room, and while you were there, you tried Judith’s house phone just in case, but there was no answer. That cunt really had the nerve to fire you out of the blue after working there almost a year, and didn’t even have the tits to say it to your face, forcing shy little Holly take the brunt of it. You were on the verge of going full Coffin King MC on her ass.

When you came out with your wire basket full of things, you apologized to Holly for putting her in the middle of this, as you reached around to take the mason jars full of colored markers, highlighters, and pencils that were on the desk dear the typewriter. “These are mine, I bought these. Tell Judith if she has a problem, she can come find me.”

You took one last look around the gallery that you genuinely loved, asked Holly to stay in touch, and had to swallow a lump in your throat as you crossed the street to your car.

-----------

Eddie worked a long day at the garage, running tows, fielding resumes for part-time office help, and thinking about you. There was a disturbance in the force, as they say, and he hoped to get a call from you later so that he would know that you were okay.

Instead, at around 8:30pm, he got a call from Steve. Eddie could tell by the music that he was at the Velvet Hammer, which was a well-known cocktail lounge, frequented by bankers and bikers alike, where Steve worked as a bouncer from time to time. The waitresses all wore skimpy, edgy outfits, and there was professional pole dancing and strippers offering lap dances on the weekends.

“Dude,” Steve said once Eddie picked up. “Your girl is here, just thought you’d want to know.”

Eddie had been digging around for a lighter in the drawer of his nightstand, in nothing but a pair of boxers, but at that, he froze and straightened up, his brow clenched. “What do you mean she’s there? Where? At the Velvet Hammer?” It wasn’t only the location that took him by surprise, but the fact that it was a Monday, and you weren’t one to bar hop in the middle of the week.

Steve lowered the phone while he shouted to someone, the song Low by Cracker blasting loud in the background. “Yeah, man. She was here when I came in, I don’t know, it seems like she’s having a bad day,” Steve tucked the phone into his shoulder so that he could ask someone for their ID. “There was some dude bothering her earlier, but I took care of it. I can’t watch her every second though---” Eddie cut him off, clenching the phone so tight, the knuckle of his hand went white. “Who was bothering her?”

Steve rested the phone with the long, spiral cord on his chest to talk to someone else for a second, but when he got back on the line, Eddie had hung up.

-----------

After you walked out of the gallery for the last time, you deposited your check, and as frugal as you normally were, you took a bit of cash out to treat yourself after getting canned in such a depressing way. You hung out at a B. Dalton’s for an hour and bought a book, and then you tried on some clothes at one of your favorite shops, but nothing fit right; you felt like you were crawling out of your skin. You went home and had lunch, took care of Charlie, did some laundry while watching daytime soap operas, started feeling worse about yourself, and then decided to go down and get a paper at the coffee shop to start hunting for a new job. You didn’t want to be home when Katie got back from work; you still weren’t ready to talk about it.

Coffee and a browse through the dismal job market turned into a walk around the park, and then you just kept going for 5 or 6 blocks until you realized you were standing on the corner across from a bar called the Velvet Hammer. Wasn’t that where Steve said he worked the door every so often? The exterior was black with dark red trim, and you thought maybe you’d been there for a drink once when you first moved to town, but you couldn’t remember. The sandwich board on the sidewalk out front said “Happy Hour menu Half off appetizers 3:30-6:30” and you decided to have a bite before you made the trek back to your car.

Steve was not there when you first arrived, and you were close to missing the happy hour cut off, so you ordered some food right away, and a cocktail to wash it down. The inside was also black and red, with a big chandelier hanging from the ceiling, a long mirror behind the bar, and an old fashioned jukebox lit up in a red and blue arch in the corner. There were two empty stages at the far back, with shiny poles down the middle, and a pretty, tattooed girl in a red leather romper waited on the scattering of customers that were there.

Whereas most bars played sports on TV, the Velvet Hammer played old black and white b-horror movies, and you were absorbed in a scene from Plan 9 From Outer Space when the bartender with the shaved head and double nose piercing asked with a dimpled smile if you wanted another drink.

Candy by Iggy Pop and Kate Pierson was playing, and it had you in a mood, so you nodded to say yes, please---I would love another.

A half hour later, you said yes to another refill and ate a few pretzels, looking around to see that the bar was filling up. There were two more cocktail waitresses there and each wore less clothes than the first. The movie on the TV now was The Creeping Terror from 1964, and just as one of the actresses turned to the camera and put her hands to her head for a silent, blood-curdling scream, someone tapped your shoulder and hissed, “BOO!”, right in your ear.

You whipped around on your bar stool, relieved to find out that the marauder was Steve Harrington.

He had his Coffin King’s MC biker cut on over a white t-shirt, exposing his heavily tattooed arms and hands, dark wash Levi’s, and he had his sunglasses on even though it felt like nighttime inside the bar.

He leaned over to hook his elbow on the bar, pushing his sunglasses into his thick head of hair to address you. “What’s up, lady friend? Who are you here with?” He looked around as he asked it, as if he automatically assumed you were with Katie or Eddie, and not just drinking alone at a bar on a Monday night.

You tugged at your ear self-consciously and palmed the new drink in front of you. “Just me, I’m afraid,” you took a sip, moving the red stir straws out of the way with your nose. “I’m about to light up that jukebox, you have any requests?”

Steve slapped the bar enthusiastically. “Hell yeah, I do, hold on,” he waved the bartender down and asked them to hand him some quarters. Apparently there was a stash of coins near the cash register there to keep the music going.

He clapped 10 or 12 quarters on the table in front of you. “Maybe some STP, anything Ozzy,” he continued, giving his requests. “I’m a sucker for that Alanis Morisette chick, too, but don’t tell Eddie,” he said with a wink.

“Anything you want, really,” he kept talking as he backed up, heading to his bouncer stool at the front door. “As long as it’s not fucking lame,” and then he smiled and flipped his sunglasses back down over his eyes.

A bit later, as you made your way back from the jukebox, some guy stepped into your path, immediately invading your bubble.

“Hey, beautiful, can I buy you a drink?” He asked, and his presence took you a bit off guard because you were so deeply concentrating on the song list you just put together, your head was in another world. The guy had slicked back, inky black hair, a teardrop tattoo under his eye, and incisors that looked like fangs.

“That’s okay, thank you,” you mumbled with a half smile as you went to walk around him.

But, he slid to the side, blocking your way again. “Just one drink? I hate to see a beautiful woman drinking alone.”

From across the room, Steve shouted at the guy with the fangs—apparently he knew his name---and when the guy snapped a look in his direction, Steve sliced his hand across his throat and shook his head, warning him to back off. Without a fuss, the fang guy ducked back into the shadows, hands in his pockets, sulking to find his table without so much as another glance in your direction.

Steve could see this shit coming a mile away; you were getting relaxed, and you were alone, and that level of vulnerability never failed to bring a bad element out of the woodwork. He didn’t mind keeping an eye on you, but it was getting busy for a Monday night because of the free darts and pool, and that was when he decided to call Eddie.

------------

Steve was smoking a cigarette when he waved Eddie in without a word, the two exchanging a quick hand grab in passing. Eddie’s gaze landed on you immediately; sitting at the bar, face tilted up to watch the TV, and that familiar thrill of being near you again stirred in him.

“Is this seat taken?” He was already straddling the padded stool as he said it, brushing up against your body as he did so.

You could feel someone approaching in your peripheral vision, and you were bracing yourself for another unwanted advance. But, then you smelled him; that unmistakable woodsy spice with bar soap and leather undertones. You felt his presence; big and sturdy and warm. There he was, right out of a dream, in his Coffin Kings leather, just like Steve’s, but with a long sleeve black shirt pushed up to the elbows, hair back in a knot so that it wouldn’t drive him crazy on the ride over, forearms and fingers patched in tattoos. He wasn’t wearing his chunky rings, and it made you wonder if he had been in a rush to leave his place. His knuckles were crisscrossed in raised white scars, as well as one particularly angry one that went all the way down his middle finger and back of his hand.

You made sure it was him first, and then you couldn’t wait to be in his arms. He turned in his seat to face you so that your hips fit in between his wide knees, and you fell against him, rested your head in the crook of his neck, closing your eyes for a second, soaking in the secure feeling of his arms locking around you.

He squeezed you so tight, something in your back popped, and then he loosened his grip, unsure of his own strength sometimes. “You okay?” He asked, his head turning so that his lips were pressed against the back of your head.

You had both of your arms against your chest so that your hands were balled up into tiny fists in between your two bodies. “I’ve been better,” you told him, shoulders hunched.

Some of your hair caught on the stubble of his jaw as you pulled back to find his lips with yours. You exchanged a few sweet kisses, foreheads locking together as you fingered the single earring dangling from his lobe, before stepping up onto your seat again. Facing one another, you each had a forearm resting on the bar, and Eddie cupped his hand over yours, protectively.

God, he was crazy about you, Eddie thought.

He could tell that you weren’t yourself. His eyes shifted around the room, jaw muscles flexing. “Did someone in here fuck with you?”

“No, no, it wasn’t that,” you avoided his eyes and looked at his hand that was on top of yours. “I got fired today,” you said as a reflexive, helpless smile flashed across your mouth.

Eddie set his head back an inch, lips parted, searching your face. “You’re joking?”

“Nope,” you offered a little snort. “Not this time, I’m afraid.” And then you gave him the Cliff Notes version of everything that had gone one from when Jeff came over the night before till now.

Eddie rubbed his thumb across your hand as you talked. He didn’t want to smother you, but if he wasn’t touching you, he thought maybe you’d just slip away. Was he touching you too much, or not enough? Healthy forms of attachment and displays of affection were not taught to him as a child; but he was an observant fuck, and a fast learner. The vulnerable side of him was the side that always got him hurt, heart trampled on, and so every time that natural urge showed itself, he would do his best to reel it back. There was something about you, though, that made him feel comfortable enough to show his affection in a way his heart ached to do.

The bartender brought Eddie a beer and set it on a napkin. He released your hand only to take a sip of it, thinking about what you’d just shared with him, and then his hand found yours again, giving it a reassuring pulse.

“By the looks of it, I’m not even sure she’ll even give me a good reference,” For all Judith’s faults, Moon River was one of the best, though, and you had dreamed about working there ever since you read an article about in Art World magazine.

“You should’ve called me,” Eddie put his other hand on your knee. “I would’ve come and picked you and---”

“Rescued me?” You gave him a shy look. “I know you would’ve. But you were working, and I’ve been trying not to make it a reality by talking about it. I haven’t even talked to Katie today.”

Much like Eddie, you weren’t used to reaching out to people when times got tough; your default was usually to hide and/or run as far away as possible. Even though you hadn’t done anything wrong that would warrant being fired in such a hasty manner, it still made you feel embarrassed, and you weren’t sure if you were ready to peel back all of those deeper layers with him in this early stage of dating.

There was a lull in the conversation as Creep by Stone Temple Pilots played in the background, and a bad feeling planted seeds in Eddie’s gut that had him wondering if maybe he had something to do with this. Was this Charlene’s doing? She had the reach, that was for sure, but to what end? She surely didn’t think that somehow hurting you would get him back in her bed. The math was not mathing, not by Eddie’s way of thinking, anyway.

He ducked his head to try and meet your lowered gaze, his fingers intertwining with yours on the bar. “Can I take you home after this?”

You took a deep breath and finished your drink in one final gulp, the melting ice crashing against your lips. You chewed a few bits as you answered him, “that’s probably a good idea. But I can call Katie, you don’t have to---”

“I’m taking you home.” His eyes were soft, but his tone let you know that he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

-------------

Katie came out onto the porch in a bathrobe like the concerned mother you never had as Eddie pulled the bike to the curb to let you off; you kissed him on the cheek as you dismounted. She worried that you’d been in a car accident or something by how late he was bringing you back. You had left her a note on the kitchen counter, but it said you’d only be gone an hour or two, not seven.

-------------

The only thoughts in Eddie’s head as he made his way back to the garage were wondering how he could help make things better for you. He couldn’t muscle someone into getting your job back, but there were plenty of people who would hire you at various places if he told them to. Then there was that office assistant he needed, but he wouldn’t be able to even pay you half what the gallery did---you’d be better off getting unemployment.

The bad feeling that all of this had been because of him blossomed into a full blown knee to the stomach when he saw the unmistakable polished, cherry red of Charlene’s Porsche parked directly across from the entrance to his apartment. She was leaning against the back, elbows on the trunk, feet crossed at the ankles, grinning like Satan’s spawn as she watched him pull in.

He took a minute to calm himself down as he parked the bike, slowly dismounting, keeping his back to her as he took off his helmet. God, he did not want to deal with this shit right now. He would never physically hurt her, and she knew that, and it felt like she was really shoving that fact in his face.

Every muscle in his body was tense as he headed in her direction across the mostly empty, dark parking lot, especially those in his face and hands.

“Trouble in paradise?” She quipped, looking down at her nails, fanning them out like claws. She was in a tight, leopard print pencil skirt halter dress, and a cropped, bolero style fur coat.

First, he wanted to make sure they were both on the same page. “Are you the reason she got fired?”

Charlene crossed her arms over her chest and shrugged. “I might have convinced a handful of people to ignore Judith and never spend money in her gallery ever again unless she let that girl go, so, sure, I guess maybe I did have something to do with it.”

“You’re disgusting,” Eddie said it on a strained breath, a painful look on his face, bile rising in his throat. It was almost hard for him to look at her in that moment, he hated her so much.

“And you’re a fucking liar,” Charlene spat, jutting her chin out a few times, stabbing her finger in the air at him. “You told me you cared about me.”

Eddie had so many residual regrets for the things his dick made him do sometimes, it wasn’t even funny.

He cocked one knee out to the side. “So, you thought that by hurting her, I’d somehow get back in your bed? You’re out of your fucking mind, Charlene.”

“Baby, don’t you remember how we used to---” she pushed off the car and dove to grab his arm, but he stepped back, out of her reach.

“Don’t call me that,” he warned, cringing.

“Fine!” Judith barked showing the palms of her hands in mocking surrender. “But I miss it, I miss us. I know you do too.”

Without hesitation, Eddie shook his head, his voice a deep murmur. “I don’t miss it at all. I don’t miss us, because there never was an us.”

“You don’t mean that,” she bit, pouting, trying hard to pull a few crocodile tears to the surface of her icy hazel eyes.

“Listen,” Eddie paused to chew his top lip. He didn’t want to knowingly break anyone's heart, not even Charlene's. At one point in their fling, he could tell that her feelings for him were way more intense than his were for her, and he should’ve called it off then, but the money made him greedy and careless. “I’m sorry you got hurt in all this, okay, we had some fun while it lasted. But you have to fucking fix this, Charlene, I’m serious.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fix what? It’s done,” she scoffed. “She’ll have to get a new job, big deal. It’s not the end of the world.”

“You’ve never had to work a day in your life. You wouldn’t last a week in her shoes.”

“I’d trade lives with her in a second,” she blurted. “If it meant you’d look at me the same way you look at her.”

He puffed out a long held, heavy breath. “It’s been fun catching up. I’m going inside. You know the way out.”

If he knew that any number of words—besides lying and saying he loved her---would get you your job back, or turn back the hands of time, Eddie would’ve stood there and negotiated all night, but he knew his efforts were futile.

He was a couple steps away when she called out to him again, and this time; her tone was frigid, void of any emotion.

“You should know it’s only going to get worse for her,” she promised. Eddie stopped in his tracks, flexing his hands, but didn’t turn around, and so she continued. “I’ll make sure she’s rejected by every gallery for a hundred mile radius, and then she’ll have no choice but to move away, or stay here with you and watch her dreams die.”

One of his hands clenched into a fist, knowing that it wasn’t a bluff, trying so hard to push down the violence he felt rising in him.

“And her friend, Kathrine Clayton,” Charlene continued, letting him know the creepy detail that she had somehow ascertained your roommates full name. “I wonder how the parents in town would feel about overhearing horrible rumors involving the woman teaching their kids.”

At that Eddie turned around slow, eyes narrowing, voice booming. “What do want, Charlene? You want us to go back to fucking again, is that what it will take?” He didn’t want to touch Charlene, let alone put his cock inside of her, but he’d do it one more time if it meant she’d leave you and Katie alone. Take one for the team, as they say.

“No, not really,” She shrugged, a bored expression on her face. “I’m fucking someone new now. He’s younger than you, and he can’t get enough of me. It took me a while to find a bent cock as big as yours, but I knew I would eventually.”

This bitch is fucking crazy, Eddie swallowed, full of shame for ever getting involved with her in the first place. “What did you do, put an ad in the paper?”

“I’ll tell you what I want,” Charlene continued, ignoring his second question. “It’s very simple. I don’t want you to see her anymore, I want you to end it. I hate knowing the two of you are...falling for each other, it makes me sick. Especially when I think it could have been us.”

Eddie’s temper flared, he slammed his fist into the palm of his hand and closed in on her in two big strides, forcing her back up against the bumper. “Why can’t you get it through your fucking head that you were nothing but a warm mouth to me? I care more about her after only a few weeks than I ever did about you.”

Seemingly unaffected by those words, Charlene sighed and dropped her arms to her sides. “Well, if you care about her as much as you say you do, I encourage you to think about what I just said,” she shimmied in her high heels over the driver’s side of her Porsche, opening the door. “If you continue to see her, I’m going to ruin her life and run her out of town, and it will be all your fault, big boy.”

She waved her fingers out the window as she zoomed away from the complex. Eddie stood in the shadows and watched her go, his eyes going black, considering what she said, and realizing what he had to do as a vast and familiar emptiness grew in his chest.

--------------

The next day, you were playing with the zipper of your hoodie, sitting at the window alcove in the kitchen, holding a pillow at your stomach, thinking about the phone call you just got from Steve.

You didn’t tell Steve you’d lost your job, but word travels fast in these friend circles. Katie must’ve told Robin, and Robin mentioned to Steve that she could get you a job at the hotel, but Steve had a better idea.

They were hiring servers at the Velvet Hammer, and apparently the bartender with the shaved head who met you the night before was also the manager, and she thought you were cute and funny and you already had an “in”. At first, you were ready to politely decline his suggestion to bring a resume by, being that you had only worked a waitress job once right out of high school, but you weren’t sure you qualified as a Velvet Hammer Girl—you didn’t even own a spiked collar.

But then he told you what the girls there made as far as income, and it gave you pause.

“The base is minimum wage,” Steve said. “But they make crazy tips, especially Thursday through Sunday. You could pocket a couple hundred bills in a night, easy.”

Sure, you’d be applying to other galleries, but that process took time. First of all, there weren’t any in the area looking for managers at the moment, but even to get your foot in the door as a receptionist would take a while. It took damn near a month and three different interviews before you got on at Moon River.

You also considered that perhaps this was a sign that the gallery world was no longer for you. Maybe it was time to get a side hustle just to pay bills, and then you could start painting again and get your portfolio up to snuff.

You told Steve how grateful you were for giving you the heads up, and he let you know the best times to bring a resume by. He also told you that the resume was basically just a formality because he had already vouched for you, but a necessity, nonetheless.

With all the drama, you almost forgot that it was Tuesday, and little cartoon hearts swam around your head when you remembered your date night with Eddie. You didn’t know where he was taking you, but he’d mentioned over the phone a few days ago that the place was new and supposedly hip. He told you to dress warm, and he’d pick you up in his Chevelle so you wouldn’t have to worry about clinging to the back of the bike in your dinner attire.

That afternoon, you were sifting through your closet for possible outfits, while simultaneously making a pile to donate to Goodwill, when the phone rang: it was Eddie.

Right away, you could tell that his tone was different; his words came out forced, like you were the last person he wanted to be talking to. You shook it off as him being distracted at work, because you could hear the other mechanics shouting in the background around the noise of electric drills and loud music.

Eddie’s eyes squeezed shut at the sound of your voice: the purpose for this phone call went against every fiber of his being. He’d been trying to convince himself that you weren’t special to him all day, but so far, it wasn’t working.

“Hey,” he stiffened, trying not to melt into a stupid grin at the way you said his name. “Something came up, and I have to cancel our thing tonight. Sorry.”

He wasn’t ready to let you go altogether, which was selfish, but he’d take it one day at a time until he could figure out a way to keep you. He had no way of knowing how much Charlene knew. He wouldn’t put it passed her to have a private investigator watching his ass 24/7. Even worse, she could’ve hired someone to watch you, and that kept him up at night.

Your heart sank, but you also understood how busy and complex his life was. “Oh, sure, Batman rides again, I get it,” you gave a little laugh, hoping to relieve any worries he had about having to cancel. You knew him well enough to know that he was a man of his word, and bailing on the date was probably the last thing he wanted to do. If only you knew the half of his anguish.

Eddie offered no retort, there was none of the flirtatious banter the two of you usually shared so effortlessly. He just cleared his throat, “anyway, that’s why I called. I have to run, talk to you later.”

You were just in the middle of saying something back when the line went to dial tone; your mouth hung open as you pulled the receiver away from your face to look at it, stunned. You blinked, turning to your cat Charlie who was stretched out on top of a pile of clean shirts on your bed. “Did he just hang up on us?” But Charlie only yawned in response.

Eddie did not, in fact, have anywhere to run to. He clicked the phone down and put his face in his dirty hands at the desk, hating himself.

-----------

Since your date got canceled, for whatever nefarious or benign reason, you decided to hike your resume over to the Velvet Hammer and introduce yourself properly to Shana, the manager with the shaved head and the fierce green eyes. She had clusters of black stars tattooed at her temples, and an anatomical heart tattoo on her bicep, right at her sleeve.

She basically hired you on the spot, but said they needed to give you a trial run for a night to shadow one of the girls to see if you could keep up the pace. She asked you to come in early for training on Thursday, and then you could start that same night if you were available. Paychecks came out every two weeks, but you’d be able to take home all of your cash tips immediately.

So, you had a job. A temporary one, to be sure, but still deeply appreciated, all the same. As much as it took a weight off of your shoulders, it also felt incredibly surreal. Also, you couldn’t help but wonder what Eddie would think.

-----------

“Steve did what?” Eddie barked at Robin who was standing in the doorway to the office, dropping off Oliver for an hour on Wednesday. He hadn’t meant for his tone to be so gruff.

She crossed her arms and leaned against the door frame. “She needed a job while she applied at other galleries, and he got her one. I thought you’d be grateful.”

He would be grateful, maybe later, when he was done seeing red with jealousy over all of the guys, he knew who would be hitting on you at that place. What if they tried to touch you? He couldn’t even think about it, he was about to pick the desk up and throw it across the room.

Robin snorted a laugh, watching him get so flustered, he dropped the same pen three times. “Dang, you really have it bad for this one, don’t you bubba?”

It occurred to him that he should talk to Robin about what was going on, about Charlene and the threats. She had always been a solid friend who afforded him years of good advice, but there was a part of him that didn’t want to get anyone else involved. It was his mess, and he needed to clean it up, if he even could.

That night, he sat in the chair by the window in his apartment with the TV on but the volume off, listening to I Stay Away by Alice in Chains, watching the phone as it rang, forcing himself not to pick it up. It was day 2 of trying to avoid you and pull away, and he was failing miserably at being cool about it. He had to say something to you, he couldn’t just make you suffer and not know what the fuck was going on in his head; that wasn’t fair to you. But then again, none of this was. It was official, he had inadvertently dragged you down into his filth.

He turned Charlene’s words over in his head, recalling the sincerity in her face as she said them, wondering how far she would take this. He’d seen her dirty deeds in action, he knew she was formidable.

The black phone under the singular light from the lamp on his nightstand started ringing again, but it cut off halfway through, as if the person calling had changed their minds or given up. As he sat there, he remembered how you rode his thigh the other night, the whimpers coming out of your mouth, and he had to palm his growing cock over his boxers. It was disturbing how bad he wanted you.

“Fuck it,” Eddie cursed, getting to his feet so that he could go over to the phone and call you.

But, just as he picked it up to dial, it was just about to ring, and there was someone on the other line.

“Eddie? Lover?” It was Erika. “You interested in a quickie to help you sleep? I drove by and saw your light on.”

-----------

After trying to call Eddie for the third—and decidedly final—time that night, you went out and flopped on the opposite end of the couch from Katie who was watching an episode of the show 3rd Rock from the Sun with a green beauty mask on her face.

“Still nothing?” She asked, peeling back a piece of string cheese. She knew you’d tried a couple times that night to get a hold of Eddie, and that he had canceled mysteriously on your date the night before.

“I know he’s got a lot on his plate,” you got comfortable, snuggling into the corner, ready to defend him even to yourself. “I just wish there was a way for him to let me know he’s okay. Send me an email or something. A few words, that’s all I ask.”

Your gut was telling you that something was definitely wrong, but, to be fair, you’d had your heart dragged through the mud before, and you worried that your gut was not a reliable source. You weren’t upset about the date being canceled, you didn’t even need to see him—even though that would be great----good communication was really all you asked for or needed. Your brain kept going back to the way he had been with you on Monday versus how he was with you on the phone yesterday; the two experiences were night and day. Had something happened between the time he dropped you off and the next afternoon? You checked with Robin, and you knew that Wayne was back on his feet. Maybe there had been some sticky Coffin King business that Eddie wasn’t at liberty to speak about.

You also tried to keep in mind that this whole little romance was as new as a spring daffodil, and even though you’d had a crush on him for over a month, you hadn’t progressed beyond kissing and heavy petting. Was there a chance you were reading the signals all wrong and he wasn’t as interesting in you as you thought?

Katie seemed to subliminally hear that question and answered you. “I wouldn’t worry about it, babes, the guy is nuts about you,” she turned to you and ate the rest of her cheese while there was a commercial on. “Robin said she hasn’t seen him this interested in a woman in years, and she’s known him since high school.”

“What else did Robin say?” This was helping you; this is what you needed. Why hadn’t she offered this information earlier?

She put two fingers to her mask to tap a few times, checking how tacky it felt, to know if she should wash it off yet or not. “She said that he got pretty jealous when she mentioned that you got the job at Velvet Hammer, and normally he doesn’t care what other women he’s dating do when they’re not with him.”

The silly truth was that, if Eddie told you he didn’t feel comfortable with you working there, you would’ve probably looked for something else. But, deciding to say nothing and be a ghost in the wind was not the right play to get what he wanted.

“I’m sure he’s just busy,” you announced, nodding to accentuate your point. “I’ll wait a day or two before I start freaking out.”

Katie gave you a thumbs up.

------------

Eddie told Erika not to call him again and practically hung up on her. It had been a while since they’d last hooked up, and if not for the incident with you at Fight Night, he would’ve all but forgotten about her.

Not twenty minutes later, shirtless in his boxers, he heard footsteps padding up the stairs to the floor of his apartment. This was particularly disturbing because it was late, and he wasn’t expecting anyone. He pulled his handgun out of its holster on the dresser and waited with it held low, standing just behind the door as the footsteps got closer.

“Who is it?” Eddie barked.

After a second of pregnant silence came the meek, “hi, it’s me. Erika.”

“Fuck my life,” Eddie hissed under his breath, holding the gun back and putting the safety on as he reached over to unlock the door and yank it open.

“I thought I just told you not to call or come over,” Eddie said, addressing her with raised eyebrows, just as he realized too late that he should’ve put a shirt on.

Erika was in a silver crop top and a pair of low-rise jeans, a pink heart dangling from her exposed belly button piercing. She was making a face and prancing back and forth a bit on each foot. “Can I please use your bathroom?”

Eddie blinked a few times, and then he scowled. “You came all the way over here in the middle of the night to use my bathroom?”

“No silly,” she giggled. “I came to see you. And to see if I left a pair of my earrings here the last time I came over.”

Eddie shook his head, slipping the gun back into its holster on his dresser with a sigh, and then shutting it in the top drawer. “I don’t have your earrings but go ahead. You know where it is.” What was he supposed to do? Make her pee out in the hallway?

He waited by the front door, standing holding it open, until he heard a flush, and then her high heels came clip-clopping back down the hall.

He pushed the door open further, holding his arm up high like an arch, making space so she could walk through. “Have a good night,” he said without meeting her eyes.

But she latched onto his chest, throwing herself against him, her lips grazing his neck, tongue lapping up to lick his earlobe. Eddie pushed her of reflexively but caught her so that she didn’t trip and fall, and now they were out in the main hallway that led to the stairs.

In perfect view of a large, street-facing window.

She was pouting, but he had her by both arms now, and he shook her a little, just enough to get her attention. “I don’t want this anymore,” his eyes were wide, searching hers. “Nod if you understand.”

But then she jutted her head forward, her lips making contact with his, her tongue flicking out dramatically.

“Fuck, STOP!” He growled pushing her away enough so that he could wipe his mouth with the back of his hand.

“But,” she gave him a coy look, adjusting her shirt. “I was thinking just one last time?”

She stole a quick side glance out the big window, but he didn’t catch it.

He composed himself, trying to imagine if he had a sister, how he’d want them to be treated in this moment, no matter how demented they were.

He took her hand in one of his and covered it with the other. “You’re a sweet girl, Erika. Go find a loyal, normal guy to care about you the way you deserve, okay? I’m not the one.”

He noticed a shift in her then, a sadness passed over her eyes; regret, maybe? Whatever it was, her appetite for him ceased and she seemed to curl into an invisible shell, shoulders sagging. She tugged her hand from his and tucked her chin, stepped forward only to hug his shoulder briefly as she went by.

“I’m so sorry, Eddie,” she said softly, pulling back to give him one last tortured look over her shoulder before she continued toward the stairs. “Please forgive me.”

Eddie stood there like a statue, hair hanging down his shoulders, hands paused in the air, wondering why the hell that had been so weird. Sure, Erika was a wild card, but showing up to use the bathroom, and then awkwardly trying to feel him up in the hallway, only to look like she was about to cry? It didn’t make any sense.

He followed a way behind her, and then made sure to put the bolt on the main door in the garage so that he wouldn’t have any more uninvited creeping visitors.

-----------

In the building across the street from Munson’s Garage, with a perfect view of the hallway outside of Eddie’s apartment, a man with a telephoto lens was taking pictures. Snapping what sounded like a billion at a time in the darkness of the abandoned warehouse. Click click click click click.

He was finishing up, packing his camera into its case, when Erika appeared reluctantly at the top of the stairs, her expression sullen.

“Here you go, dollface,” the much older, potbellied man said to her, pinching a wad of cash between his middle and index fingers and extending it to her. “You did real good.”

Erika swallowed as she took the money, her hands cold and shaking. Sure, she was upset that Eddie didn’t like her as much as she liked him, and she hated that new girl he was talking to, but she didn’t want to see anything bad happen to him.

“I don’t like this,” she told the photographer. “I wish I’d never agreed to do it.”

“Well,” the guy said, adjusting his fedora on his head as he put the strap of his bag over his shoulder, already out of breath from the mild exertion. “Sorry to be the one to tell you this, sweetheart, but no one gives a shit.”

------------

Part 8

------------

Taglist xoxox @sidthedollface2 @leilalaufeyson02 @lilpotatobean2 @ireidsmut @kelsiegrin @nope-thanks @stylesxmunson @lofaewrites @seventhlevelofhell @corrodedcoffinsmut @whatwedontdointheshadows @kurdtbean @falling-solar-system @emxcast @bexreadstoomuch @ms1oftheboys @hellv1ra @dream-a-little-nightmare @etherealglimmer @manicmagicmayhem @micheledawn1975@aysheashea @unfocused81 @truffleshuffle12 @notsobubblybaby

P.S. for some reason, half of these aren't tagging the people they are meant for, so I'm sorry if you find this and it seems like I didn't tag you 💗 I'm grateful for each of you.

#older!eddie #older eddie munson #bikereddiemunson #boxereddiemunson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson series #eddie munson fics #stranger things fic #the 90s #90s au #fem reader #eddie munson x fem reader #I'm on fire #eat the rich

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pjoxreader · 1 year

Note

*awkwardly waves* H- Hello! Sorry if it's out of the blue but may I request two one-shots or hcs? The first one is Leo Valdez x daughter (or child if you only do gender-neutral) of Aphrodite!reader where Leo develops a crush on said reader. The second is Leo Valdez x modern!reader x Percy Jackson-- I know this sounds weird and you can change it if you are not comfortable but I'd like to see a love triangle between them ((the reason for the modern!reader (as if from our world etc.) is because I haven't seen any of those 😅))

That's all for now, sorry if it's too long. I hope you have a great day/night!

Daughter of Aphrodite x Leo

((I forgot to only put one request at a time to keep things neat in my rules but that was my fault so I went ahead and did both for you! I hope you enjoy! 😅))

Leo Valdez

-You two started out as just friends, of course Leo would playfully flirt now and again but that’s just who he was. He loved to make people smile and you’d light up a room with yours. Anytime you’d laugh at one of his dumb flirting attempts he’d get the dorkiest grin.

-”Are you Medusa? Because I’d turn to stone so I could spend eternity staring at your beauty.” He had never been more proud of himself as he saw you blush and giggle. Even though both Percy and Annabeth gave each other a grimace as if remembering a bad memory. Leo thought it was a good one though!

-Leo knew you were wayyy out of his league. He tried to ignore his feelings but at this point he couldn’t. Anytime he tried to focus on something his mind would wander back to you. Just simple things like ‘Ah she’d love this new machine!’ or ‘She’d be really mad if she knew I was up this late…’ But those thoughts plagued his every waking moment.

- “I just can’t get her out of my mind!” Leo complains to one of his siblings Jake Manson who gives him a sympathetic pat on the back. “It’d just… Never work out though… I’m… I’m a son of Hephaestus and she’s well… A daughter of Aphrodite. It’s like a nerd trying to get with a popular girl.” Leo complains, waving his hand as he explains this.

-Jake raises a brow with that, opening his mouth but seems to remember something before he speaks. “Ah that’s right… You never got the chance to meet Charles…” he hums softly and digs through his pocket showing Leo a picture of Charles and Silena, Silena was kissing his cheek while Charles was as red as a tomato. “Charles was the counselor before I was, and Silena was a daughter of Aphrodite. It shouldn’t have worked but… They made it work. They were the best couple in the whole camp.” There was sadness in Jake’s voice but he looked at the picture with fondness and melancholy.

-Leo felt a bit guilty but seeing the two people smiling in the picture he couldn’t help but wonder how he managed to do it. Leo had fought monsters, faced the world ending, and he was still too scared to try and ask you out… Maybe he really was helpless…

Leo Valdez x Modern!Reader x Percy Jackson

-They really didn’t get along well, Leo and Percy were like two sides of the same coin. Leo used his brains and mechanical skills to work through problems. He was head of the mechanics team after all! And Percy? Percy was captain of the swim team, strong, toned and downright eye candy. Not to mention he wasn’t afraid to get into a fight.

-You really weren’t sure how you managed to get stuck in this. You thought you were pretty good at sticking to yourself and minding your own business. Well, guess that was wrong. The two would constantly be fighting and arguing around you.

-It started off with small things, just arguments you didn’t bother to stick around for, but then it started to escalate. Percy would go into the mechanic club room soaking wet with his team getting the room soaked. And for revenge? Leo set off a glitter bomb in the pool that took two weeks to clean up. -You couldn’t stand it anymore! You call both boys out to the school roof, arms crossed angrily. “I’ve had just about enough of you both!” you yell angrily. They both look sheepish as they knew they had taken it too far if you were that mad at them.

-”Can’t you guys just like… Kiss or get together or… Something! Stop dragging me into your weird flirting!” you complain. The both pause slowly, turning to each other at the same time in shock. They stare at each other for a bit before they both burst out laughing like it was the funniest thing they ever heard.

-You’re left standing there utterly confused as they laugh loudly, Leo even rubbing a tear from his eye as Percy slaps his leg from laughing too hard. “We like *you*! We were fighting over *you*! We weren’t flirting with each other!” Leo explains the gears slowly turn in your head as it finally clicks and you feel the heat rising in your face making the boys burst out laughing again. “I thought I was dense!” Percy complains between laughter fits.

~Masterlist & Rules~

Like my writing? Please consider sending me a Ko-fi! ☕

#pjo #hoo #pjo x reader #hoo x reader #percy jackson #leo valdez x reader #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x reader x Leo valdez #pjo fluff #fluff #pjo x reader fluff

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chishiyashoodie · 2 years

Text

Pairing: Chishiya x female!reader

Genre: fluff/angst

Warnings: mentions of exploding heads

Word count: 696

Author’s note: idek what this is but not being able to sleep makes me daydream and here I am. Also, ignore any misspellings pls

You woke up to a worried Chishiya. You had been tossing and turning and he got worried. You were having nightmares lately but this one felt too real.

“Are you okay? Did you have a bad dream?”

You nodded

“Tell me about it”

You stopped for a second, trying to remember it.

“Hmm… It was very odd. You and I were in a prison with other people”

“A prison?”

“Yes but not as inmates. We also had collars around our necks. Black collars. Each of them showed an image on the back but I couldn’t figure out what it was. It was blurry”

“Go on”

“At some point we went to this other room that had lots of food in it, some sort of dispensary”

“Hmm”

“You were standing by yourself eating biscuits”

“Sounds like me!” he said proudly.

“Hold up, don’t get too excited about the biscuits because we had to go into some cells and some of the other people’s head just…exploded”

“Their heads exploded?”

“Yeah, the collars were bombs or something similar”

“Did my head explode?”

“Oh my god, no”

“Did yours?” he asked raising his eyebrows.

“Shuntarō!. No, mine didn’t explode either”

He stroke your face giving you a smile.

“It’s okay. The nightmare is over. We are okay. I have no idea what that dream means but it’s over”

“You are right”

“Come on, let’s make you a tea”

You sat near the kotatsu in the living room while Chishiya prepared your tea. For some reason, a nice milky tea always put you to sleep when you weren’t able to.

He sat down besides you and handed you the tea.

“Thank you”

You took a sip of your tea. It almost burned your tongue.

“Shuntarō”

“Huh? Is it too hot?”

“Don’t worry about the tea. I just remembered something from after the moment the meteor hit”

“Go on”

“I just remember names, I can’t put a face on them though”

“What names?”

“Arisu…Usagi…” your face was looking frightened as you spoke their names “Kuina…Ann…”

He stared into your eyes. Thinking for a second.

“Why do they sound so familiar? I felt something in my chest while mentioning them” you continued

“I have no idea” he muttered “they must be people from work”

“No. Nobody in my workplace has any of those names”

“Then, I’m not sure, angel. Don’t worry too much, it was just a dream and nothing happened to my biscuits”

“Is that all you gathered from my nightmare? Biscuits?!”

“Yes. Which reminds me I have some in the kitchen. You drink your tea and try to go back to sleep”

“Don’t go” you asked him. “I need to tell you something”

“Yes?” he said sitting back down next to you.

“Ever since we almost lost our lives back then, you’ve been…different”

“Good different or bad different?”

“Good different. You have changed, for the better. It makes me so happy. You are more cheerful, smile more, your eyes have light in them. Don’t get me wrong, I love moody Shuntarō, but I love this version of you even more”

He smiled while stroking your cheek.

“I guess almost losing my life and almost losing you changed something in my brain. It made me realise my life has a purpose, whether it is to take care of you or to help others without being told who to help. It makes me grateful that I was given a second chance even though I don’t deserve it”

You stopped him

“Everybody deserves a second chance. Everybody”

“I’ve done some bad things, really bad things”

“You were following orders, Shuntarō”

“I know. But I still did them. I want to take this second chance and turn my life around. I’m going to quit my job or ask to be transferred to other hospital”

“That’s my boy, do whatever you think it’s right for you”

“Do you think this is the right decision?”

“Absolutely! Step by step, okay? I’ll be by your side every step of the way. We’ll do this together”

He kissed you softly.

“I love you so much”

Now that was something you’ve never heard from him so it caught you by surprise

“I love you too, more than anything”

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thankyouforthefunny · 19 days

Note

Kamala Harris has just stated she does not support an arms embargo to Israel and that will not change if she becomes president.

So the person who didn't understand anything was fucking YOU. YOU, who are gross enough to think the Palestinian genocide isn't a conversation stopper.

Kamala Harris is a fascist. And you, you fucking liberal, are one too. You're a genocide supporting, bootlicking fascist.

This is exactly what I’m talking about. You saw “Kamala” and “Israel” in a post and were so emotionally activated by that you are calling me a fascist over claims that you made up in your head and that weren’t in my post.

Genuinely, if you are getting so heated over mentions of a few key words that you can’t even comprehend rest a 150 word post, that is not normal and you need to figure out a better way to process whatever shit is going on inside your head.

How do you expect anyone to support your fucking movement if you’re spending all of your time calling people on the same side of the issue genocide supporters for doing what they think is the best course of action to stop the genocide.

Also, what about all of the other genocides going on in the world? What about the civilians in Ukraine getting bombed by Donald Trump’s best buddy? What about Dan Gertler, the Israeli billionaire who is profiting off and escalating the genocide in the DROC—Obama and Biden kept him from accessing his money due to his crimes against humanity, but Trump restored his access all during his first term. That’s direct evidence of how a Democratic president prevents genocide more than Trump ever will.

Are those good enough for you? Isn’t genocide a conversation stopper and the most important issue to you? Or are you just addicted to being outraged at everybody who’s just trying to navigate a horrible system, and feel the need to boast about how morally superior and smart you are? It always seems to be most directed at people with the same morals as you but with different ideas of how to best carry out a plan to reduce death and suffering in the world.

If you’re American (or live in any country giving funds to Israel), have you bought anything in the past 75 years? Do you pay your taxes? I can guess the answer because you were able to send this ask to me, so you’re at least not currently in jail. If that’s true, you’ve actually given money directly to the government for them to funnel to Israel. It’s so interesting that these people who love to roleplay as anarchist rule breakers who won’t compromise on genocide are only advocating for not voting—an action with no personal consequences—and not telling people they’re funding genocide by paying taxes, although that’s objectively true.

Looks like your limit for action is actually just not wanting to go to jail, and you’re not any more morally clean for not voting. In fact, you’re not participating in making a choice of who you think will best handle that money you’ve already put into the system which isn’t all that righteous sounding to me. Get the fuck off of your high horse.

#answered asks #palestine #ukraine #free congo #us politics

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ejzah · 1 year

Text

The Agent and the Fireman, Part 14

***

“Oh, look who graced us with his presence,” Jerry called out as he walked into the office where Deeks was completing the monthly duty schedule. “You’ve been spending so much time with your Fed friends, I thought you might have jumped ship.”

“Yeah, because there’s an ongoing case where they need my expertise,” Deeks said with a smirk that had gotten him out of any number of minor scuffles in his younger days.

“Doesn’t hurt that there’s your lady agent friend there. What’s her name again?”

“Nice try.”

“It was worth a shot. So, is it safe to say you’re smitten?” Jerry continued, not all dissuaded from his purpose. Deeks paused, debating if he say anything. As much time as he and Deeks had spent together recently, they hadn’t exactly discussed any parameters for their fledgling relationship.

Glancing over his shoulder to make sure there weren’t any listening ears around, and lowered his voice.

“I’ve never met anyone like her before. She’s fearless, says what’s on her mind, has this insane laugh. It’s actually more of a cackle than a laugh. The day she got trapped in that building, I swear she was ready to punch me out when I picked her up and carried her out of there.”

“But then she got a good feel of those muscles, and she was a goner,” Jerry teased. “She actually sounds a little like Monica.”

“Hey, we do not go there,” Deeks reminded Jerry with a jab of his finger. “She’s nothing like Monica.”

Jerry shook his head, looking fondly irritated. “Only you would stumble upon a hot federal agent, and actually start dating her.”

“Speaking of said “hot” agent,” Deeks said, picking up his phone as it started ringing. Jerry craned his neck to look over Deeks’ shoulder, but he’d entered Kensi’s contact information under KB. “Looks like they’re in need of my expertise again.” With a grin, Deeks put his phone to his ear.

“You know, you’re really annoying when you’re in love,” Jerry said under his breath.

***

Kensi had given Deeks the address they thought Jason McHenry might be holed up in, but apparently needed his advice on some device they’d found.

She met him as soon as he pulled across the street from a small industrial building. She wore a vest and hand a rifle strapped to her right thigh.

“Kensi, what’s going on?”

“We tracked McHenry here from his mother. You were right, she dropped a payment at a P.O. box yesterday. We took her in, and she eventually gave us this address,” she explained. “We have people watching both exits.”

“That sounds promising,” Deeks said.

“It is. Except for the device rigged to the front door.” Kensi lead him to a small barricade set up nearby where he could see Agents Hanna and Callen standing. “Given his tendency to burn evidence, we used a camera to check and found this.”

They’d reached the barricade by now, and Sam wordlessly handed him a small tablet. He and Callen both wore protective vests and were armed as well.

Tilting the screen away from the sun, Deeks peered at the captured image. There were a multitude of wires and other electrical pieces that made defining the device’s purpose difficult.

“There’s components similar to the last incendiary device you found, but this one does look like it’s rigged to trigger when the door is opened,” Deeks said slowly, enlarging the picture and working his way from one side to the other. “Yeah, there’s a trigger of sorts connected to this wire.”

“Can we disarm it?” Callen asked.

“Possibly. Though I’d need better imaging and possibly a live camera to be safe.” Deeks looked up briefly to find all three agents watching him closely.

“You tell me where to cut and I’ll do it,” Sam told him confidently.

“Sam’s our resident unofficial bomb defuser,” Kensi explained.

“Mm, should I be worried that you have the need for a designated bomb defuser on the team?” he asked, focused on the picture once again.

“Ok, enough chitchat,” Sam interrupted. “Let’s get some more pictures and—”

“Wait!” Deeks pressed a hand to Sam’s chest, physically holding him back. “There’s a secondary fuse on a time control,” he said, gesturing to the picture. “It’s already been triggered. Everybody needs to move now.”

“How long we got?” Sam asked.

“I have no idea,” Deeks said, nodding towards the building. “It could be any second, especially with how long ago he must have triggered it.”

“Alright, everybody evacuate,” Callen ordered, gesturing for Kensi and Deeks to move ahead of him. Deeks heard Sam contacting someone over his radio and giving similar directions as they ran across the street.

They’d just crossed onto the opposite side when a massive explosion rocked the earth around them. Deeks heard Kensi shout his name as he was knocked to the ground, someone crashing into him as he fell.

***

A/N: Bet you weren’t expecting that!

Once again, yes I know that this is not how things work. Just accept the modicum of procedurally stuff and pretend that it all makes sense.

#ncis la fanfiction #marty deeks #kensi blye #densi #firefighter Deeks #light action #Deeks is hot #fireman au #the agent and the firemant #part 14 #ejzah fanfiction

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blueroses789 · 2 years

Text

From Green to Blue

Chapter 17: Blurred and buried

Next chapter: Reopening old wounds

Warnings:

Angst

Smut

Mental health crisis

MDNI: 18 plus

Note: Sorry for the long delay! School running me over right now.

It was like the door was opening into a great chasm. A great gust of wind seemed to greet you.

Maybe it was just your imagination, but a storm seemed to be brewing behind that door.

Or maybe not.

Seeing Eren’s face caused a chill to go through your body. It wasn’t fear, or even rage, just another douce of numbness. The last time you two came face to face here was when Biannca moved in. All you could think of was Biannca’s essence that had taken over yours. Now it was her things here, she had tarnished every trace of you.

“Hey, do you want me to take that for you?” Eren’s voice wavered slightly. He looked different. His hair had become even longer, hanging limply at his sides.

“Can we come in?” Ignoring what he said, you walked past him. Zeke stopped beside Eren and whispered something you couldn’t make out in his ear.

Walking into this apartment was like entering an empty box. A wind whistled in your ear, filling every space. You seemed to recall a time when this was home. But the memories were blurred and burned.

Feet treated on unfamiliar territory, every step taken with hesitancy, as if expecting a bomb to go off.

The bedroom felt cold. You set down the box.

Could you do it? You knew when you agreed to move in that sharing a bed was an inevitability since there was literally nowhere else to sleep.

The night table on the left side was empty. None of Hannah’s things remained behind. Setting down the box, you headed back to Zeke.

“Should we head out and get the rest?” Eren went to get his coat. You didn’t want him to help.

But right now your voice box seemed unwilling to argue.

It was done in total silence. When your boxes were back in Eren’s room you just stood there.

Where should your things go? You really didn’t want to piss off Eren by placing your things in the wrong place.

“Y/n, do you want my help?” It was like he’d crept up on you.

“Um, yeah. Where should I put my things?”

“Where they were last time.” What you felt wasn’t exactly confusion. Just that you had difficulty processing all of this. Like those years with Eren had never happened.

And how you wished they hadn’t. You couldn’t look back on any memories with fondness, because they were tainted. Kisses and caresses flitted through your mind like a malignant sickness.

“Washroom.” You muttered.

Eren had the good sense not to follow. Zeke, who was in the living room, seemed to think it was best to leave you alone for now.

When the bathroom door closed, the breath you let out was vaguely human. It was rasping, painful and short.

You curled in on yourself, the white walls closing in.

Zeke had stayed for dinner. The unpacking had taken longer than it should have. In the meantime, Zeke made pasta. The three of you sat, with only Zeke talking. Mainly just mundane subjects. You suspected he was just doing this to postpone the awkwardness.

But this temporary reprieve would not last indefinitely. Eventually, Zeke had to head home.

With one last look, he said goodbye.

It was just the two of you.

“I’ll do the dishes.” Eren hastily whisked the plates away. Looking at the clock, you realised it was 10:30 pm. You were ridiculously exhausted.

“Alright. I’m going to bed. Night.” Finally getting into the bed was a blessed relief. Soon you would be asleep and not have to think. The bedroom door was mostly shut, light coming from the moon.

Suddenly everything came back, was familiar. The place you had lived in for years. So many nights you had lay here. You turned onto your back and stared at the ceiling. Memories of your last intimate moments with Eren invaded. You weren’t even sure that last time could be considered intimate. The way he seized your hair, careless grasps of the flesh and feeling like a used toy was far from what you considered intimacy.

Cold, you wrapped yourself in the blanket and closed your eyes.

Wether you had dreamed or not was unknown. You had the premonition that your sleep was not wholly untroubled. An uncomfortable chill creeped wracked your spine. Slowly, you rolled over to see Eren with his back facing you, who was still asleep. Silent as a mouse, you slinked out of the bed. Once in the safety of the bathroom you breathed properly.

One thing that had not changed was the oodles of soaps in the bathroom. You were truly spoiled for options.

There was strawberry, cinnamon, lavender and vanilla.

Wait, vanilla? That wasn’t a soap you or Eren regularly used. Screwing open the cap, you took a whiff. Neither you nor Eren wore this scent.

But Hannah did.

The temporary reprieve was cruelly ripped away. Suddenly the bathroom didn’t feel so secure anymore. Placing down the bottle, you went to the kitchen.

Maybe some tea would help you feel better.

The cups were the same. That was until you came across a black cup with white hearts on it, Hannah’s.

Hardly standing to look at it, you tried to avoid looking at it and seized the first cup. The cupboard thumped shut.

As you said waiting for the water to boil, you wondered how many of Hannah’s things lay around the apartment.

By the time Eren woke, you were by the window drinking tea. You didn’t look at him, choosing instead to settle your gaze on the rising sun. The only nice thing about being back was the view. A golden rising sun was just peaking over the horizon. Eren was not any more vocal than you, making his coffee in silence.

“Remember why you are doing this.”

The landline phone rang and Eren went to answer it.

“Who’s calling this early?” You wondered. A few minutes later Eren walked up to you. The look on this face was foreboding.

“Is everything alright?” Your thoughts first went to Carla. Had something happened to her?!

“ No it’s not my mom. Hannah wants to pick up her things today.”

“Good.” Eren looked perplexed at how blaze you were taking this. But the reality was far from the truth. In reality, you just didn’t want to be there for their tearful farewell. As dramatic as it sounded, you don’t really think your heart could take it.

You and Armin sat on the swings, the wind making the chains rattle ever so slightly.

“You're doing okay though, right.” Armin’s hand brushed against yours.

“It’s alright. He hasn’t done anything so far.” Your fingernails scratched the ceramic cup. Armin winced slightly at the light scratching noise, though you didn’t notice.

“So, how's your book going?” You were relieved he left behind the subject of Eren. Armin rummaged around his backpack, pulling out a large, leather bound book. He preferred to be more authentic, saying that it made him feel more intimate with the writing process. You admired his tidy handwriting.

He liked to have you edit his words, something which you were more than happy to comply with.

Armin looked at the girl opposite from him. He felt the heat rise in his cheeks as Y/n read over his work. Every praise made his cheeks go redder. Though she didn't know it, Y/n was the first person he had shown his work to since highschool. Even Mikasa and Eren weren’t allowed this privilege. Most of the time when someone looked at his work Armin felt a horrible pit in his stomach.

“Hmmm. Armin, I think that writing about fantasy is a bit below your capabilities.”

“This is just…. I mean, Armin, this is an amateurish mistake.”

But those thoughts never came up when he was with Y/n. She had shown a genuine interest when Armin accidently let slip that he liked to write. At first Armin backtracked, saying he was talking about an essay. He really didn’t need someone ripping apart his book. Y/n had dropped it. Two months later Armin had her over at his house and she was looking over some of his books. Armin had an impressive collection, started by his grandfather and namesake. Y/n had picked out a small blue book and started to read. It was only a few hours later that Armin realised, to his horror, it was one of his stories.

And then Y/n looked up and smiled.

“This is really good. Who wrote this?”

From that day on, Armin shaked his stories with her.

“I think you could go into a bit more detail about Catherine’s anger. It’s a bit too brief for such a poignant moment.” Your index finger ran down the page. Armin immediately wrote your suggestion down.

“Did you understand the allegory for Catherine and Persephone?”

“Yes. I actually really liked the way you used imagery to depict that.” Armin beamed.

Suddenly Armin’s face went chalk white.

“Hey, Armin are you alright?” Your hand covered his. Turning around, your heart dropped

It was Annie Leonhart.

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liminalpebble · 1 year

Text

Sex and Death: Chapter 14, Insomnia

Masterlist link

CW: Sexual content. Mentions of crime and murder. Minors DNI.

Noura lay curled on Magnus' chest. Beneath her palm, she could feel the rise and fall of his steady breath and the pulsing of his heart, and it soothed her like gentle waves rolling through the ocean of her sleep.

Magnus lay with one long arm clamped around her, the other behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling. His place was certainly less cozy, but at least his bed was bigger.

She had been sleeping over at his flat for a couple nights now. It wasn't difficult to hide because their colleagues knew Wallander had asked Magnus to drive her due to an abundance of caution. And those who knew (Svendsen and Wallander, himself) didn't seem interested in commenting on it one way or another. There wasn't time or energy for anyone to spare on inter-office drama or politics, which relaxed Noura and Magnus about the personal side of things, meanwhile their professional nerves were all the more agitated and fraying.

They'd spent two days bringing in neo-nazis with police records for interviews, as well as asking the victims of their hate crimes to come in and give (or resubmit) statements. It was grueling. Noura and Josef both worked overtime as translators, hearing over and over again about the atrocities done to people like them. They hated to rekindle the victims' painful memories, and they hated to have to carry those accounts with them, but there was no leaving those stories or faces behind when they clocked out. It unavoidably haunted them, like sad ghosts following them home each night.

As Magnus laid there with her in his arms he sighed in frustration. The last few days were the first since Noura's hiring that they weren't working joined at the hip. Instead, he was tasked with staring down and interrogating belligerent racists with Wallander while Noura and Josef worked with the victims. The young detective was tightly-wound and ticking like a time bomb; forced to be intimidating and vicious, to threaten terrible people into helping them with information.

It wasn't long before the act felt disturbingly less like an act. Magnus wanted to be angry with these pieces of shit, and he wanted to be mean. He found himself fantasizing about grabbing some SS-wannabe around the throat during these sessions, shushing them and watching the fear rise in their reddening faces. Just as quickly, he would snap out of the reverie, horrified by himself; by the half-a-psychopath he felt willing to become to catch this killer...to protect her. But how long before it hurt her? How long before this venom spilled over into the rest of who he is?

He could already feel the aggression seeping into life outside the interrogation room like a drop of ink in a glass of water. After his sessions, he would storm wordlessly through the shared office space, still riled and tight-jawed only to see Josef and Noura sitting together going through files, sometimes amiably slipping into Arabic as they discussed. Sometimes Josef would put his hand on her shoulder in an encouraging pat if she huffed indignantly, taunted by a particularly hard piece of the puzzle. Rationally, he knew that they were both merely doing their jobs while being kind with each other. Yet he could feel himself watching from the outside of their camaraderie and shared culture, jealous and pouting like the rich spoiled boy he worried he really might be, unaccustomed to being denied anything.

Martinsson would have the intrusive thought that he wanted to grab Svendsen by his perfectly ironed shirt and perfectly combed hair; violently pull him away from her. He felt a roil of irrational hate for this man and his stupid unceasingly sweet smile; because he shared an understanding and background with her which Magnus never would, because of how he always looked perfectly crisp somehow while Magnus ran around in crumpled shirts and wild hair like a mad professor rambling theories, because of Josef's maddeningly unempirical style of profiling which undermined his and Noura's careful research. Still, Noura was able to take that disagreement in stride and just keep working. She didn't mind...why did he? Why should he? Sometimes disagreements lead to the best breakthroughs, after all.

You know damn well why you mind, Magnus reluctantly admitted to himself.

He felt Noura stir against him, long hair tickling as it moved against the bare skin of his chest. He eye the clock through the cold sparse moonlight and sighed; 3 am. Magnus was hoping against hope that she might finally sleep through the night this time and was simply shifting in her sleep but that hope was dashed as her groggy whisper reached his ears.

“Magnus, you're squeezing me too tight. It hurts.”

“Oh darling! I'm so sorry,” he responded feebly, immediately relaxing his grip on her, and kissing her forehead. “Did it wake you?”

“It's okay,” she croaked out, “I wasn't sleeping very deeply anyway.”

He chuckled softly. “You're a horrendous liar,” he said, moving his hand gently to caress her hip. “Let me help you relax?” he purred as he ghosted his fingers over her thighs.

“Mmm...but I'm too tired to return the favor.”

“That's the idea, sweet girl. I want to help you sleep. I woke you up after all. It's only fair.”

Her slow sleepy breaths turned to sighs as he palmed her mound through her panties. “Mmm...Yess,” she purred back, sliding both hands arms around his neck while his long fingers found their way between her thighs and settled between her soft lips. He guided her thigh over his leg as he reached farther in, rubbing gently inside her.

“Just relax, darling, I've got you,” he whispered and he could feel her soften, sighing quietly as her eyes shut and she bit her flushing lip in contentment. He moved his wide warm palm in gentle presses against her mound and her wet engorged clit while his fingers curved gracefully inside of her. He watched her lovely flushing face, her fluttering eyelashes, as her breath hitched and he could feel her little body getting warmer; her arms hugging him closer where they settled around his neck, against his strong shoulders. With gentle flicks of his wrist he moved further in, finding her sweet spot and sliding against it while his thumb gently massaged circles over her clit. Magnus could tell she was about to unravel, and purred to her as she came, “Yesss...my lovely girl. Show me. You're so beautiful when you come. I've got you...I've got you. ”

She sighed panting against him, snuggling against his neck, clinging to him like a lifeboat in the storm of her fear, her warm little hands gripping and releasing against his strong back. As she stilled and the waves settled, she kissed him, breathing him in deeply as if he were her only source of oxygen. “Thank you,” she whispered, stroking his curls and pecking his cheek. Magnus, reluctantly slid his hand away as she was already beginning to drift into a blissful post-orgasmic sleep. She mumbled out, “You didn't have to do that for me.”

He cupped her face stroking her cheek with his thumb as he responded, “it's my pleasure.”

Magnus wasn't sure how long he stayed that way simply staring at her as she descended deeper and deeper back into her dreams. When he was fairly certain she was sleeping, he whispered, as if afraid of the power of his own voice, “I love you, Noura.” As he realized the utter absolute truth and depth of what he'd said, a few quiet tears rolled down his face as he held her close and joined her in dreaming.

---

The phone rang loudly, jolting them both into consciousness in the still dark morning. Magnus opened his bleary eyes to make out the glowing clock; 6 am. Far too early. He knew it would be bad news.

“Martinsson,” he croaked out, as he stroked Noura's hair while she still lay groaning in annoyance into her pillow. Whatever horrible thing this will be, let her rest just a little longer. Let her not know...just a little longer, he begged internally and futilely.

“Magnus, it's Kurt. We have a body.”

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#wallander #wallander fanfic #magnus martinsson #magnus martinsson fanfic

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specialagentlokitty · 2 years

Text

Mr Evershed x Student!reader

Part four:

The three of you shared a look before turning to Loraine and she shook her head standing in front of the door with her arms out.

“I’m not letting you out of this room.”

“You have to! You don’t know these people!” Jordan yelled.

She just shook her head and you walked over, holding your hands up in the air as a sign of trust.

“Loraine please, it’s us they want. They will hurt anyone to get to us, student or teacher they don’t care.” You spoke softly.

Your brothers nodded and they stood behind you.

“Please Miss, look out that window, they’re going to break that door down.”

She turned her head to look but didn’t move out of the way and you sigh.

“You two in front of her.”

They stood with their backs to her and you picked up a chair, grabbing it by its legs as you turned to the massive glass window.

“Fine, if we can’t get past you we’ll take a shortcut!”

Throwing the chair with all your might, you sent it throw the glass window, shattering it and slamming into the wall where it broke and you nodded to the twins who follow your lead.

You placing your hand on the shattered glass ignoring the sting and the blood as you hopped out the window.

Everyone, students and teachers turned to your three and you pointed to the doors.

“You two help Mr Hussain and Mr Hyatt with the door, do what you need to if they get in, do not let them get to anyone in here. I’m going to the side.”

You started to jog away, dashing between running students and teachers who tried to grab you to stop you.

You made your way to the side door and skidded to a halt in front of it before walking through, looking around.

You found Mr Evershed pushing one of the men back while he shouted at him.

“You don’t know them! They’re dangerous! You need to let us take them!”

“I don’t care, you’re not their legal guardian and you are trespassing! The police will be here shortly so I suggest you all take your leave!” Mr Evershed yelled back.

He carried on pushing the man and the man started to push back.

“These teens need to be taken care off! You don’t know the truth! And if you did you would agree! They’re monsters! Ticking time bombs waiting to attack something!”

“Those so called monsters are just students! They’re trying their best to get through life and they’re not going with you!”

You watched the scene carefully, hand placed on the railing at the top of the stairs ready.

“If you’re going to stand in my way I’ll deal with you too!” The man growled.

He pushed Mr Evershed, kicking his feet from under him sending him to the ground and placed a foot on his chest to keep him there.

“Hey ugly! Looking for me?!” You yelled.

Both men looked at you and you jumped over the railing, you landed on the floor and started to walk closer, dropping your blazer and tie to the ground as you rolled up your sleeves.

“I said stay inside!” Mr Evershed yelled.

You said nothing to him and carried on walking forward.

“You want me right? Me, Ryan, Jordan? You want us? You’ve been looking for us?”

“Come quietly and no one has to get hurt.”

“Oh come on Jason we both know that’s crap. You’re going to take us, then you’re going to clean up the mess you made here right? Get rid of everyone?” You asked.

You stood a few feet in front of them, arms wide.

“For a Hunter you sure do suck at hunting, HERE I AM! TAKE YOUR BEST SHOT!” You yelled.

Jason grinned, pushing his foot into Mr Evershed’s chest, winding him he scoffed as he shook his head.

“Please I’m not stupid, you won’t do anything while I’m stood like this. So, come here, turn around and put your hands on your head.”

You looked at him then Mr Evershed and growled lowly because Jason was right. You weren’t going to do anything while Mr Evershed was there because you wouldn’t risk an innocent life.

Walking over, you sneered and slowly turned around, putting your hands on top of your head.

Suddenly you heard something and you felt electricity surging through your back making you drop to the ground with a groan.

“Oh you bitch…” you mumbled out.

“I’m not an idiot, high voltage this. I wondered if it would work.”

Jason took his foot of Mr Evershed and placed it on your back, crouching down as he looked at your yellow eyes.

“Now I have you, your brothers are going to come peacefully.”

“Don’t be so sure…”

“Please, they’ll do anything for you.”

Mr Evershed stood up, tapping Jason on the shoulder he swiftly punched him in the face, knocking him off you and he stepped over you, making sure to fret about a foot between you and Jason.

“Oh wrong move. You should’ve just stayed there.” Jason growled.

He swung, fist colliding with Mr evershed, sending him stumbling backwards and you growled, slowly pushing yourself of the ground.

Grabbing Mr Evershed’s arm, you move him behind you and rolled your shoulders, glaring at Jason with yellow eyes.

“They’re going to see who you really are…” he sneered.

“Don’t be so sure moron.”

Ryan hit him in the back of the head, sending him crumbling down to the ground and he pointed to your face.

Blinking, your eyes returned to normal as you turned to the teacher behind you, looking at his bloodied face and dirtied suit.

“I told you two to stay in the office, where’s Jordan?”

“Handling things out front. Police are coming just a few more minutes.”

“Ryan go back and help him, things are covered here.” You said.

“Sure?”

You nodded and he kissed the top of your head before running off and you turned back to the teacher.

He frowned as he looked at you and took a few steps closer, making you take a few steps back.

“You need to go to the hospital, get checked out.”

You shrugged a little.

“It’s fine, barely even felt it. Are you okay?”

“(Y/N) you were shot with a taser, go get checked out.”

You didn’t reply but you pointed to his face, then gestured to his suit.

“Are you okay sir?” You asked again.

He blinked and sighed, nodding his head, wiping some of the blood away on his blazer before turning back to you. Then he looked at Jason.

“Go I’ll watch him.”

“Give me your tie and lanyard.”

“What?”

You made a grabby hand at him, signally for him to hand them over and he did.

You knelt down and got to work tying them to Jason and you picked the man up by his arms and started to drag him back to the stairs where you grabbed your tie and tied him to the railing.

You walked over to one of the PE bags left on the floor and emptied if, carrying it back over.

Mr Evershed followed you and watched what you were doing.

“This isn’t appropriate.” He said.

“I couldn’t really care less to be honest with you.”

You used the strings to create a stronger hood and kicked Jason in the leg, giving a small nod when he didn’t move.

“He’s not going anywhere soon.”

“What did you do?”

“It’s not the best but it’s to hold him there for a while, if he tries to move he’s going tighten the rope injuring himself more.”

“(Y/N)! Undo it!” Mr Evershed scolded.

“Nope. He deserves it. You should’ve given us that note and we could’ve avoided all of this, no one has to get hurt because of us.”

“You were in danger, I wasn’t giving you that note if it meant putting you at risk.”

You turned to the headteacher and shook your head at him as you stuffed your hands in his pockets.

“We’re always going to be at risk. You lot don’t have to be though, no one should’ve gotten hurt because of us.”

“No one did.”

You scoffed and gestured to him.

“So you’re just wearing fancy dress then? Look, I get you have a hero complex, you want to protect people that’s great, really. But this isn’t anyone else’s fight sir, it’s ours and ours alone, okay?”

“And it doesn’t have to be, just tell me what’s going on and we can sort it. The police can help.”

“Please, no one wants to help us. You’ve read the articles sir, you know what they all think. Even if they did, if other people get involved there’s going to be more people getting hurt. I can’t have that in my head.”

He sighed and crossed his arms.

“So you’re going to what? Deal with this all on your own? Just the three of you?”

“What other choice do we have?”

“Trust! You can trust other people (Y/N)! Trust me and others to help!”

You shook your head at him but shot him a small smile.

“I appreciate it, really, I do. But no. You’ve done enough to try and help, and you got beaten up because of it, it’s not fair on you sir.”

You turned back to Jason before turning back to Mr Evershed.

“I heard what you said to him, and I just want to say thank you for it. You’re probably the first person to ever say we’re not monsters.”

He went to reply but he was cut off by another teacher running out gasping for air.

“One of the twins… they.. they’re…” he rushed out.

Your eyes winded and you heard the cries of one of your brothers.

“Jordan!”

Rushing up the stairs, you ran through the hallways, pushing past students until you reached the front where the police were now arresting the hunters.

Ryan was on the floor with Jordan, holding his head as the other twin laid unresponsive.

“Jordan!”

You pushed past the barricade of teachers and knelt next to your brother, placing your hand in his you took some of his pain.

You looked to Ryan who gestured to Jordan’s side and you saw it.

“We need to get him home..” Ryan whispered.

You nodded and you both hauled Jordan up, holding his weight between you both.

“You can’t take him, he needs a hospital!” Mrs Carp yelled.

“He’s our brother! We’re taking him!” Ryan yelled back.

“Hospital can’t help him! They won’t!” You yelled out.

You guys walked for an hour like that, carrying Jordan until you finally reached home and Ryan rushed to get everything ready while you sat there with tears in your eyes.

Ryan came back and started to treat the wound while you sat there quietly and when he was done he turned to you.

“What’s going on inside that head?” He asked.

You looked at Ryan and shook your head.

“Nothing, is he going to be okay?”

“Yeah, it’ll just take a bit longer to heal but he’ll be fine now. What’re you going to do about the school? What happened?”

“No one will dare come here for anything. We’ll stay here for a few days, let Jordan heal and rest, then we’ll decide what our next move is, right?”

Ryan nodded and you both looked over Jordan, taking turns at taking his pain away from him so he could rest easy

#ackley bridge #Ackley bridge x reader #Ackley bridge x you #Ackley bridge imagine #mr evershed x you #mr evershed x reader #mr evershed #mr evershed x reader make it home

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latibvles · 2 years

Note

Hey Lexi! If you fancy, how about {Postwar/AU/whatever} Daisy mad at Ron for his problems with PDA? Reconciliation afterwards is what drives me - I got a soft spot for them<33 Thankuuu🎆

hope you don’t mind that i put a little spin on this! think it’s still reconciliation-centric, bit more on thre side of “Daisy and Ron learning how to be a couple in a post-War environment” coupled with Ron’s PTSD struggles.

or : in which Ron is pulling away and Daisy doesn’t know why. Trigger warning for implied survivor’s guilt. Postwar centric, no major SBT spoilers.

“Are we okay?” She doesn’t realize how loaded those words could be until she’s already said them. Ron’s sitting on the edge of their bed. She’s standing by the doorway, hugging herself.

They make her stomach churn, but not in the excitable way that it does when he says I love you — equally as loaded, less anxiety inducing.

Ron came home in February.

When they told her parents about them, he kept his hand on her knee the whole time. They held hands buying furniture for their place. When her birthday came around that May, he kissed her in front of a cake all lit up with candles while their family watched on. It hadn’t always been like that.

During the war they’d been careful. There were already enough rumors swirling about Officers keeping the women for themselves. It didn’t matter how many people “thought” they knew about them. They just made sure there was no reason for anyone of military standing to report it. The only one who really knew anything was Lipton, and he never said anything of it (and why would he?). Stolen kisses in the late hours of night, or in an empty bombed out building, or in the shadows of an alleyway. A hand squeeze if they could get away with it, a lingering look. Otherwise as far as any of the enlisted were concerned — not a thing went on between the two of them.

But they were out of the war now, Daisy wasn’t Army anymore — and if the ring on her finger is indicative of anything, they certainly weren’t much of a secret either.

He looks at her, brows furrowed and lips tugging into a frown at the question.

“What do you mean?” Daisy hugs herself a little tighter, trying not to feel silly for bringing it up. She remains on her side of the room.

“You’ve been pulling away from me,” she starts out, looking down at his shoes. “We don’t really… when you first came back we would hold hands or you’d kiss me in public or… I don’t know,” Neither of them say anything for a moment, unmoving. Then she takes a measured breath. “It feels like we’re hiding again, Ron.”

She watches as he rubs his mouth for a moment, taking his lip between his teeth and releasing it. Then he approaches, taking her face in his hands. They’re rough, calloused, and warm. He pulls her towards him, pressing his lips to hers softly. It’s sweet, because everything Ron does is intentional, and she kisses him back with that same softness. He pulls away, but not far, looking over her face. She places her hands tentatively on his waist, as though he might pull away otherwise.

“You know this isn’t what I mean,” Ron sighs, giving her a slow nod. In this proximity she’s aware of how tired he looks. Drained. And it hurts her. His gaze moves to the window, to their dark street.

“Got a phone call from Private Dieli’s family yesterday.” She can tell from the way he swallows that he’s trying to keep his voice even.

D-Day in general is a sore topic for him, in the same way that he never pries her about Bastogne. It’s not like they don’t talk about it — but it’s not like she’s begging for the details of it all. But she knew enough to know about the Private he couldn’t save before Dog retreated, and she knew enough to know about the Sergeant he had to shoot.

Daisy reaches up to take the hands that haven’t left her face, pulling them off to lace their fingers.

“Ronnie…” her voice is soft as he leans down to put his head on her shoulder. She knows that reminding him it wasn’t his fault won’t do much — not until he starts to believe it for himself.

“M’sorry Dais.” He mutters into her shoulder. She tilts her head to bury her nose in his hair for a moment.

“No. No. Don’t apologize, Christ I didn’t— I didn’t realize. Just… talk to me, okay?” Daisy squeezes his hands twice. He lifts his head to look at her, and her chest aches at the sight of his glassy eyes. She reaches up to hold his face in her hands. “We’re a team. You don’t have to deal with these things all alone.”

He moves to kiss her palm.

“You’re right,” he mutters in response. “I’m still… sorry, I didn’t realize.”

“Well now we know. So that’s what matters.” Daisy reassures. “Now lie down. You look exhausted.”

He doesn’t argue, but he does lace their fingers and pull her with him to lay down beside him.

The next day, he doesn’t let go of her hand in the supermarket.

#ship: daisy/ron #*poet writes #ch: daisy clarke #daisy gets angry but you have to like royally fuck up for her to get like . ANGRY angry #so if Ron wasn’t being as affectionate itd moreso set off her worry alarms #she got mad at him more when they were teenagers #but for the people she loves she has a lot of patience

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daystar-daydreamer · 2 years

Text

Book review: Hollow Chest by Brita Sandstrom

Category: Middle-grade

Genre: Fantasy/mystery

Rating: 🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟 5/5 stars! :D

Recommended for: 8-13

Charlie has been having nightmares. Eyes watching him in the night, claws on his chest, holding him down. His dreams have been haunted for years, ever since German bombs rained down on London, taking his father's life, taking his city's spirit, taking his beloved brother, Theo, off to war in France. Now Charlie is left to take care of his grandpa Fitz while his mother works, waiting for the day when Theo will come home. And with World War II nearly won, that day is almost here. Grandpa Fitz warns Charlie that soldiers sometimes come back missing a piece of themselves, but Charlie isn't worried. Whatever Theo has lost, Charlie will help him find it. When Theo finally does return, though, he is cold and distant. Their family, like the city itself, feels more broken than ever. But Charlie refuses to accept that the brother he knew is gone, and soon he discovers the reason for his brother's change: war wolves. Terrifying ancient beasts who consume the hearts of those broken by grief. The wolves have followed Theo and hundreds of other soldiers back home from the front. And if Charlie truly wants to save Theo, he's going to have to find them and get his brother’s heart back. But can a heart that's eaten ever be replaced?

SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT

The story got me to like Charlie, his mother, and Fitz within the first few pages. Fitz seems to be developing dementia, and I can tell you from personal experience that it’s a nightmare. :(

Early on in the story, the church makes a trip to a military hospital, and so much emphasis was put on it that I was sure Theo would be there. He wasn’t, but Reggie was. I like Reggie. He’s funny, and I got attached to him relatively quickly for a side character.

Theo, however, is… Not quite so easy to get attached to. I get that he’s less affectionate because the war wolves ate his heart (And probably also PTSD, but this book is about the war wolves), but most of the chapters with him around are a slog.

And the wolves themselves are creepy as hell. Did they try to wipe Charlie’s memories of them after the first encounter? Because it seemed like it to me. That actually made my skin crawl, the way those things could get into someone’s head and mess around in there!

Dishonor was creepy, but I had a feeling from the first meeting that he wouldn’t be the villain. I was a little thrown off, however, by the other war wolves as well. The story had presented them as the villains, but they didn’t seem to act like it. They were weirdly helpful, and it was only until the very end that I realized they weren’t actually all that villainous, the soldiers let the wolves have their hearts and the wolves were just trying to survive like regular wolves, the biggest difference being their intelligence and choice of prey.

Charlie telling a story to Theo and a story to his mother was really sweet. I especially liked the story about the feral girl who became a princess.

#middle grade #middle grade fantasy #middle grade books #world war 2 #historical fiction #book review #bookblr #five stars

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psychosistr · 2 years

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La Vie en Rose- Chapter 1

Summary: Agent Wildcard is a shrike of many talents both physical and supernatural, but no one seems to want them around for long. Agent Bokor Baron is a powerful master of mysticism, but his ego and temper drive everyone away. When these two are assigned as partners, will they become the most powerful paranormal pair that F.O.W.L. has ever seen? Or will this partnership be dead on arrival?

Notes: I have risen from the dead on the night of All Hallows Eve to bring you this spooky tell of dark magic, ghosts, and romance! This is the first story that I’ve had the honor of writing alongside Wildcard’s creator, @thefriendlyfour , and we both hope you enjoy the origin of how these two fiendish fowls met!

Another day, another partnership doomed to fail.

Wildcard hardly considered themselves to be a negative person, though with their string of luck, it was hard to be anything but pessimistic. Four partnerships- the shrike had been tossed around FOWL like a bomb as four separate groups and individual partners rejected them and had them reassigned somewhere else. At least three of the four had the courtesy to reassign them, instead of simply forgetting Wildcard existed at all.

Something about their random skill set of talents and lack of a real presence put people off. Sure, those things were great when it came to work, but no one they worked with would let them have a proper chance to be a FOWL agent. Best case they got to do the paperwork for everyone else.

Which is why they weren’t feeling particularly chipper about being assigned to a new partner today. Some sort of wildfire type of agent from what they heard. This was likely just FOWL’s way of trying to keep the other in place by assigning him a partner like Wildcard. What an exhausting career they had.

They stood outside a warehouse at night, waiting for their partner to arrive. Wildcard picked up some stones from the ground and without needing to think about it, threw each one to random areas around them, all perfectly ricocheting off of boxes, trash bins and lampposts to land in a tin can standing upright. An impressive feat, but nothing particularly interesting to Wildcard. Just a way to pass the time as they waited.

A slow, not-quite-sincere clapping broke the silence of the night. “Not bad, petite, not bad at all.” The voice came from a few feet off to their side, an oddity given that there had been no sound nor presence felt leading up to the on-looker’s arrival. Now that the stranger had made themself known, however, they dropped whatever shroud they’d been using to conceal themself and allowed the shrike to feel the eerie energy coming off of them in waves.

Without missing a beat, Wildcard threw the last stone they had in one direction so it would fly just slightly past the other’s head at a quick speed. Their eyes narrowed, pushing themselves from the wall they leaned on to properly look at him. “You took your time getting here.” They stated plainly, raising a brow. “Assuming you are who I think you are.”

The smirk on the hawk’s face radiated confidence as he towered over them. “That depends. If you’re thinking that I’m the best spirit-tamer that FOWL has to offer, then-” He took the oddly decorated hat from his head and made a show of letting it roll down his arm into his waiting fingertips as he winked at the smaller bird. “-you’d be right.” The hand now holding his hat crossed in front of his chest as he bowed. “Bokor Baron, at your service.” A flick of his fingers sent the cap back into its previous position atop his head. “But you, petite, may call me Henri, if you desire.”

Wildcard couldn't help but roll their eyes at the display, albeit with a faint blush dusting their white cheeks in the moonlight. "You think highly of yourself for someone High Command sought to punish, Baron." They kept a firm tone saying his name, turning away from him entirely. "You can call me Wildcard."

Bokor’s slightly-glowing red eyes blinked in surprise at the smaller bird’s reaction before a confused expression took hold of his features. This was a reaction he was clearly not used to and it caught him off guard for a moment before he quickly stepped back into his previous mask of suave confidence. “Well then, if we are going to be keeping things professional- at least, for the time being-” That part was certainly said with some sort of intent. “-then please call me Bokor, as it is my proper title. The ‘Baron’ is…..well, let us just say it’s something else and leave it at that.”

"...alright, Bokor. I won't ask for details." Wildcard looked at him with their arms crossed, walls up. There was no point in getting to know each other really, not when Wildcard knew they'd be tossed aside at the earliest convenience. "So? What's your deal? What types of assignments do you usually get and how do I fit into the equation now?"

Bokor’s expression immediately lit up at the opportunity to talk about himself, his chest puffed up with pride as he spoke. “Oho, so they decided to let you hear it from me directly, hmh? I cannot say I blame them- my skills and reputation cannot be summed up properly on paper.” One hand reached into the odd pouch tied to his hip, retrieving a translucent green glass bottle with a symbol emblazoned on the front- the same symbol on the pendant hanging from the hawk’s neck, actually. “You see, petite, I am tasked with cleansing any particularly troublesome or stubborn spirits that no one else can even HOPE to face from FOWL’s many bases and artifacts. I conquer forces of the dead that would cause most to faint from their mere presence.” He held the bottle closer for them to get a better look at its contents. “Tell me, do you see anything in here?”

At first glance, the bottle appeared to be empty. However, it radiated a dark energy that seemed far older than anything this world had to offer and, to the properly trained eye, faces could be seen passing by from time to time- distorted and tortured visages like countless spirits swirling through a vortex of eternal agony.

"That's quite a number of ghosts you have there. They don't sound so thrilled to be in a bottle like that either." In truth, Wildcard was quite ignorant to things like the dark arts Bokor practiced in, but Wildcard did possess some abilities to see and interact with the otherwise invisible beings. They just never bothered to wonder why they could. "So...ghostbusting then? That's a new one."

Bokor grinned, clearly more pleased with this reaction than the first one he got out of Wildcard. “Aha, so you DO possess the sight. That explains a few things.” The last part was said quietly, almost as an aside to himself, while putting the bottle away. “I must say, though, you are much younger and FAR easier on the eyes than the usual mediums they try to pair me with- most of them are practically spirits, themselves- how long have you practiced? What is your craft? I am eager to know ma p-” He stopped himself briefly, looking them over before apparently noticing something about them and correcting his earlier choice of title. “-mes petites.”

The shrike couldn't help but smile slightly, the corner of their beak rising before falling just as quickly. "I've always been able to see ghosts, ever since I was little. Don't know why though, it's not like I came from a family of mediums or anything. I don't make a fuss about it, and the only thing it's really any good for is being able to control ghosts of recently killed targets to get them to spill their secrets." Wildcard huffed a laugh. "At least that's what I would do if I ever got to do field work anyway."

Bokor’s eyes that practically glowed already seemed to light up just a bit more. “A puppeteer of the deceased, you say?” He looked Wildcard over with fascination clear in his gaze and a smile on his beak. “That is quite the talent, mes petites. Most would have to train far into their winter years to come CLOSE to mastering such a skill. You must possess an exceptionally strong spirit to have mastered it so effortlessly while still exuding such lovely and youthful vitality.” While the hawk’s previously flirtatious tone was still more than evident in his voice (or was that just his default when not talking about himself?), there was something almost...well, not quite sincere, but at the very least impressed mixed in this time.

The whole situation was quite foreign to Wildcard. They’d never explained their powers to someone and be met with positivity, let alone compliments. And then there was the way Bokor was looking right at them...it was chilling, and yet, made Wildcard’s cheeks heat up more. They shook their head, feeling the slightest bit overwhelmed by the man’s games.

“I’m not that young. I just know what I’m doing, simple as that.” They sighed quietly. “My name is accurate- I am a wildcard of random abilities like that. I may not be able to do everything, but there are some things I can do naturally. If you want me to do ghost hunts, then that’s what I’ll do. No need for all the unnecessary flattery...” Wildcard trailed off, the last point being for their own sake if anything else. They didn’t like the idea of being teased or looked down on by him.

“If I thought it was unnecessary, then I would not bother with it.” He didn’t seem put off by the smaller bird’s attitude or blatant dismissal of him in the slightest- on the contrary, he seemed to be enjoying it. “But, if you prefer, mes petites, then I will save the flattery until AFTER I have seen what you can do.”

Wildcard waved a hand casually, as if pushing away the comments. They clicked their tongue, thinking it over. “...could always demonstrate if you don’t believe me. This part of town, there’s probably a casualty a day with all the gang activity. First ghost I see, I’ll make them work for me, and you can decide from there on how you want me working with you.”

“I never said I didn’t believe you, petites. However-” Bokor tipped his hat to them with a flourish, still looking at the shrike with that mixture of amusement and fascination. “-I’d never turn down a good show, especially not one with such a stunning lead.”

“Shut it.” Wildcard hissed, their face going red once more from compliments they weren’t used to. “Let’s just...walk around a while, okay? Got nothing else to do, right? So...”

A low chuckle rumbled in the hawk’s chest as he did a sweeping gesture forward with his hand. “Lead the way and I will follow- it is your show, after all.”

The attention Wildcard was getting was making their chest feel funny, but they pushed past it as they led the way for them to walk through the city. To be honest, Wildcard wasn’t certain they’d find a body to use as an example, they just had a gut feeling to go by and a desire to keep moving. Anything to get conversation away from them.

“So- how many of your past partners are in that bottle of yours?” Wildcard asked simply, glancing up at the tall man. “No judgment. I’ve seen plenty of teams turn on each other in the past. FOWL isn’t exactly a buddy-buddy type of environment.”

Bokor followed them at a slow, relaxed pace, his stride being at least twice the size of their own. “Oh, I would say about ten of them are in there. I usually reserve it for the ones who manage to infuriate me.” His eyes narrowed briefly, his voice dropping to a low mumble in a momentary slip of his typical charming facade. “Though the worst one still walks free….for now..” As quickly as the slip occurred, it was covered up once more by an inquisitive look cast down at the shorter bird. “What about you, mes petites? Any unmarked graves from your own list?”

“Never been around long enough to really make any enemies if I’m honest.” They thought it over, flashes of other agents they worked with passing their mind. While they weren’t exactly happy with any of them, Wildcard supposed they didn’t wish them death either. “I think the only one I was particularly annoyed with ended up being killed by a SHUSH agent anyway. Aside from a kill I made during my training, that’s the only blood on my hands so far.”

“Such a short list.” Bokor’s remark held no judgment in it, from what they could tell. “Some time in the field may change that, though- especially if you stick with me.” Another low chuckle could be heard rumbling in the hawk’s chest as he grinned down at the other agent. “Death does seem to follow me wherever I go, in one form or another.”

“Quite a reassuring thing to tell someone who had just been assigned to you. Careful, Bokor- death can be dealt by many hands.” Wildcard gently threatened as a warning should anything happen. Though, a small voice at the back of their mind seemed reassured that there wouldn’t be any danger...Wildcard chose to ignore that voice for now.

Before they could say anything else on the matter, sounds of an argument could be heard in the distance and a man darted out from an alley in front of the agents in a panic. The frantic stranger looked around the near empty street they walked along and dove to hide behind a dumpster to hide from some rather pissed off goons that came out from the same alleyway. The whole situation screamed “opportunity”.

“Well, you wanted to know my abilities? Here’s one you saw earlier.” Wildcard kicked up a long forgotten beer can, ricocheting it against a wall and into their hand. They tossed it up and caught it before looking at Bokor. “I never miss. No matter where I throw something, it’ll always hit my target, provided it isn’t moving. If it is? Eh, the chances of hitting it drops to something like seventy five percent. But for now-”

Wildcard threw the can in front of them, kicking it sharply. A series of clatters alerted the angered goons, who stared as the can bounced between buildings and street lamps. Eventually, it landed straight on the head of the man trying to hide, resulting in a loud shriek of terror that alerted the gang of his presence. Wildcard felt no pity as they pointed and chased down the fleeing coward, taking out their weapons and aiming for his head.

Bokor seemed to share his new partner’s lack of pity for the plight of the soon-to-be-dead man; if anything, the grin on his face showed a sense of sick enjoyment from the spectacle. “Like an arrow sent by the loa of death himself.” He looked back down at the shrike with that same sadistically amused expression. “Looks like you’re already adding more blood to your hands, mes anges de la mort.”

“I have no idea what you mean. I’m not the one pulling the trigger.” Their smile turned truly sinister as they heard the final gunshot ring out and the telltale sound of a body hitting the floor. Wildcard tilted their head and cracked their knuckles as they turned towards the finished conflict. “Now usually a ghost shows up within a few moments...but I’m not feeling particularly patient tonight so-” They held a hand out in front of them, in the direction of the corpse. “Get up.”

With the stern command, Wildcard forcefully guided out the dead man’s spirit from the fresh body, unknowing to the goons checking to make sure they finished the job. Thinking it over for a moment, Wildcard glanced at Bokor. Well, he wanted a show, they thought and flicked their wrist one direction.

The spirit followed Wildcard’s direction and flew right into one of his killers’ bodies. The man spluttered, becoming consumed by a foreign spirit that took over his entire body. Wildcard kept their focus, using the multiple layers of puppetry to make this stooge attack at his fellow men. One by one, through confusion, punches, and firing a weapon, Wildcard used both a spirit and body to completely annihilate the entire group.By the time only one remained standing, Wildcard pulled the first ghost out, letting the traumatized body crumble and collapsed down to the ground amongst the corpses.

“See? No blood on my hands. Directly anyway.” They pulled the spirit they controlled over, the ghost clearly struggling to get out of Wildcard’s grasp. “This type of spirit any good to you? Or should I just let them go now?”

If Bokor had been intrigued before, it was nothing compared to the unbridled fascination and wonder clear in his eyes at the display of Wildcard’s abilities. Glowing red eyes seemed to gleam a bit brighter as he looked the shrike over from head to toe- as if he were truly assessing them now- and, by the time he was done, a smirk that showed both a sense of sadistic glee & something like genuine amusement had spread over his face. “Oh, I like you.” He didn’t leave the phantom puppeteer with much time to ponder any deeper meaning to those words before turning his attention to the struggling specter. “As for this one...I suppose it will do.” His hand reached back into the pouch at his hip and pulled out both the green bottle from earlier and a small vial of what appeared to be ashes.

Under his breath, the hawk started muttering what sounded like some sort of prayer or mantra, but it was too quiet to make out the words. Keeping the neck of the bottle gripped between two fingers so his hands were mostly free, Bokor removed the cork keeping the vial closed and poured the ashes out into his emptier hand. The pinky finger of his opposite hand traced the same symbol from both the bottle and his necklace into the small mound of ash, his eyes glowing a little brighter from the action.

All the while, a presence slowly began to make itself known as it manifested around the large man’s broad shoulders and back. It was hard to say what it was, as it lacked a coherent shape and almost looked like a red cloud of smoke rather than the usual solid and silhouetted appearances shared by most spirits, but something about it felt both sentient and dangerous. Whatever it was, it watched over Bokor’s ritual like a looming shadow as the ashes in his palm gained a similar energy to the entity. By the time he was finished with his prayers, the manifested being’s mass was even larger than Bokor’s own, creating a rather imposing image behind the man despite him not yet acknowledging its presence.

Wildcard would be lying to themselves if they said they weren’t frightened by the sight. They tried to not let it show on their face, but it was clear that their caution towards Bokor earlier was not without reason. Swallowing, they tried to keep their control on the spirit they had and was starting to struggle to keep it at bay. “A-Any day now…” Wildcard warned, a bead of sweat dripping down their temple.

Bokor gave no indication that he heard them. Whether it was because he was tuning them out or because the ritual stole his focus, it was hard to tell, but either way he seemed to reach the end of his prayer or mantra when the symbol on the ashes started to glow. Raising the hand holding the dark powder, he brought the ashes closer to his beak and suddenly blew on them. The short puff of breath was enough to send the particles into the air as a cloud that flew directly at the spirit before, surprisingly, sticking to it and coating it.

The ashes on the spirit all turned a deep, burning red like a hellish blaze that engulfed it from head to toe. With his hands now free, Bokor opened the green bottle and held it in the direction of the struggling specter.

Whatever the entity still floating behind Bokor was, it finally moved from behind him to extend part of itself forward and ensnare the ghost. The poor poltergeist was then dragged forward forcefully and shoved into the green bottle like a box being forced through a mail slot that was two sizes too small. It honestly looked painful, even for something that no longer had a corporeal form...then again, that may have been the point..

Within seconds, the mysterious mass had finished its work and added the spirit to the collective trapped within the glass confines. Once it was done, it began to dissipate just as slowly as it appeared. Before it was completely gone, however, it seemed to give off the impression that it was actually looking (as best as an incorporeal being with no discernable eyes could look, anyway) directly at Wildcard.

All the shrike could manage was a brief, sharp glare before exhaling a breath they didn’t realize they were holding as things went back to normal. Well. As normal as things could be with everything they had done.

“Glad to have been of service…” Wildcard breathed, wiping off the sweat from their forehead and trying to keep from toppling over. It had been a very long time since they’d done something like that, and admittedly, they were trying to show off. Exhaustion was a natural side effect.

After closing the green bottle and allowing what had been behind him to fully dissipate, the hawk’s red eyes blinked a few times to regain their focus and lost a good portion of their earlier glow, returning them to a level that could be easily mistaken for a trick of the light. Stuffing the now empty vial and the bottle back into his pouch, Bokor retrieved a small notebook with a pen skewered through the round binding (it seriously felt like that little bag was bigger on the inside than it should have been). Unhooking the pen and thumbing through several pages of what looked to be tally marks, he eventually found the one he was looking for somewhere near the middle and added yet another mark to the page to complete a set of five.

“One less to worry about later.” He muttered to himself before returning the pen and notebook to his pouch. Now done with his task, red eyes focused instead on the tired shrike. “You look tired, mes petites.” From the slightly more genuine tone of his voice, it seemed like he’d only just now taken notice of the other bird’s exhaustion, having apparently been blind to it until that moment.

“It’s late, and that sort of thing takes it out of me if I do too much. I know it’s only two thirty six AM but...” Wildcard stifled a yawn and glanced at their phone. Yup, exact time on the dot. “...I doubt I’ll be of much more help tonight. I’d be of more help to you after I’ve rested.”

Bokor looked the sleepy shrike over for a moment. He didn’t seem to be concerned quite yet, but he was at least doing his best to offer some form of assistance. “Do you have sleeping arrangements for the evening? If not, I know a few places to go.”

"I've got a motel room booked until I can get a FOWL issued apartment in order." They chose not to mention the very likely scenario of them living in that motel until Bokor decides to reassign them and they have to move out from St Canard to somewhere else in the world. Happened too many times before, Wildcard hadn't even applied for an apartment this time around. "It's a bit away from here but I'll be fine to walk it. They gave you my number right? Contact me when you've got a mission for me to help with."

Wildcard yawned again, finding it hard to stay focused. "You get the idea...I'll see you around, agent Bokor Baron." They said quietly before walking off in one direction.

“Until next time, mes petites chéries.” He watched them leave with a slightly more genuine smile on his face once they’d turned away. If nothing else, their earlier display had managed to endear the shrike to their new partner.

Next Chapter->

End Notes: A rocky but intriguing start for these two. What will the next day hold? Read on to find out! x3

#darkwing duck #dwd #fowl agent Bokor Baron #wildcard #oc #not my oc #and #my OC #bokard #thefriendlyfour #ghost and spirits #ghosts #spirits #la vie en rose

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