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catch1ngmoths · 17 hours

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🫧𓇼*ੈTIME AFTER TIME✩‧₊˚🎐

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ “If your lost, you can look, and you will find me..time after time. If you fall I will catch you, I’ll be waiting…time after time” -Cyndi Lauper 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋

Summary: after a one night stand with Joost you both can’t seem to get each other out of y’all’s heads. You were always on his mind since then and you couldn’t stop thinking about the blond boy with the cute accent… until your paths cross once more. This time Joost won’t walk away

Note: (all credit for the edit above goes to MCRBATS on TikTok!!) this is a part two for “only stay with you one more night” ITS FINALLY OUT GUYSSS!! I beg for more requests because yall give me the most scrumptious ideas for fics ever!! Also, this is kinda bad so please don’t jump me!!!

Warnings: SUGGESTIVE, Talk of past sexual relations, mostly fluff!

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It had been months, you hadn’t seen Joost since that night that left you both achey in a good and bad way. You’d pondered on your thoughts and feelings towards the blondie and you mentally scolded yourself for thinking he’d come back for you. It obviously meant nothing to him, he probably sleeps with people left and right. You were no different to all the others in his mind.

But you were. Joost couldn’t get your name out his mind. Couldn’t get your pretty face and voice out of his mind. He kept thinking about the way you said moaned his name and how soft your hands were against his rough ones. He wanted to go back in time and make himself bite the curb for leaving your apartment that early morning.

You were so so so much different. Sure, this one night stand wasn’t his first rodeo but the way he looked at you was. The way he felt towards you was, he didn’t know why. He really didn’t. He’d only fully been around you for around 5 hours but those moments gave him a feeling he’d never felt before. He felt so much love, care, and warmth towards your personal being and just wanted to protect you from everything.

He’d ruined it though, we walked through and out your front door that morning. He felt cold as soon as he did but there was no going back now. He had in his signature white earbuds in while he looked out the window of the Uber that was taking him home, his mind still on you. And just like that, that was the last time he’d seen your beautiful face and your addicting scent.

The sound of his friend, apson calling his name pulled him out of his trance. He was setting up for his concert in a few hours, when he was preforming it was the only time he could get you off his mind…well somewhat at least. He went over and helped out apson and the rest of his crew and friends. Helping them set everything up and getting everything done for tonight.

You on the other hand were at your friend, Alexis’s house just hanging out when she interrupted you while you were talking. Her eyes were wide like she’d just remembered something and her movements were one of excitement, taking you aback. “Oh my god!! Sorry to interrupt you but I totally forgot about something, so Mia, Rayo, and Lacey are coming over later and we’re all going to a musicians concert Mia likes!!”

You stare at her with a smile and sarcasm laced in your voice, “now why the hell would you wanna interrupt my story to tell me about that?” You say with a chuckle, “beaacauseee…I want you to come with! It’ll be fun and I know the others would love to have you there too!” You furrow your eyebrows, this reminded you of that night where they all begged you to come out to that club with them where you met that boy you haven’t been able to get your mind off of.

You take a deep sigh, “Lex you know how I feel about things like that.” You reply but Alexis isn’t ready to back down just yet, “no I know but this concert will be different, it’s not as big as mainstream concerts and Mia said it’ll be fun!!” Alexis says looking at you with those puppy eyes and pouting in a sarcastic way.

You groan and just like you did that night months ago you agree. Around an hour later the rest of your friends show up a to get ready. You hang with Rayo fixing your makeup before looking over to him, “who are we even seeing anyways?” You ask him curiously, “man I don’t remember, I just remember Mia putting on his music and showing me a picture of him. Good looking guy and his music isn’t bad whatsoever…soo” Rayo replies with a smile

‘Whatever..’ you think, ‘at least this will be something to get me out the house and doing something.’ You sigh as your friends squeal and run to the car, excited to go. You laugh at their childishness and run after them. It takes around 20 minutes to arrive and the whole time your driving you feel this sensation in your chest, you can’t stop thinking about Joost…he was always on your mind don’t get me wrong but something about this was just different.

Joost was backstage, talking with his friends and trying to calm his excitement for the concert. But something about this felt oddly familiar, he’d never felt this before any concert. His mind now fully immersed and focused on you, he shakes his head as apson calls him over. Trying to shake the thought of you out his mind, as he gets up from where he was sat to walk to apson.

“Het concert begint zo, zijn jullie er klaar voor?” (The concerts gonna start soon, are you ready?) Apson says to Joost, clapping his hand on his shoulder with a smile. Joost takes a breath and smiles at apson, “Ja, ben je er klaar voor? Heb je nog ergens hulp bij nodig?” (Yeah, are you ready? Do you need help with anything else?) Joost replies, nudging apson with his shoulder, this makes apson clasp his hands together. “Ah, Ja, dat ben ik helemaal vergeten. Kom met me mee” (ah, yes, I completely forgot. Come with me..) apson says as the two men walk to set one last thing up.

You and your friends finally arrived to the concert. You all scooted to the front, people being nice enough to let y’all shuffle through. You and your friends talked before music played out making everyone around you, plus your friends scream with excitement. A guy runs out on stage, dressed in a while collared shirt with a black tie and black pants.

He has…short, messy, blond hair.. the same hair Joost had. No way, that wouldn’t be him- that was what you thought before he turned to face the crowd. Those features. Holy shit. It was him. He spoke into the microphone and you immediately knew from the sound of that pretty accent. It was Joost, the boy you couldn’t get out of your head.

Your mind races and you can’t decide if you should be excited or mortified that he’s standing right in front of you. On one hand, this is the boy you’ve wanted to be reunited with for months. On the other hand, it’s embarrassing to face him now. You secretly hope he’ll see you and you’re also hoping he won’t.

He sings his song, “offline” as he looks at the crowd before he sees it. He thinks he’s imagining things, you’ve been a constant in his head for months but there’s no way you’re here right now. No way you’re looking up at him with the same shocked expression that his face definitely has. His voice slightly shakes but he keeps on singing. He’s imagining shit, god he needs to get it together

But it wasn’t his imagination. You were there, for the rest of the concert you and Joost made continuous eye contact. And after the concert was done and Joost was backstage he was his wracking his brain for any way he could catch you. He couldn’t let you leave again, he just got given a second chance and he wasn’t about to give it up.

You were thinking the same things, you were alone in your mind the whole concert. You were thinking and planing about what to do after this, once the concert was done and everyone was leaving. You panicked, “u-um you guys can leave without me, I can get an Uber back home! I need to do something..! I’ll text you when I get home safe!” You say

You knew they wouldn’t let you so you run away before they can protest against your words. You look around, after your far enough away. You second guess yourself once your by yourself. Your heart is racing but your thoughts won. What if he didn’t wanna see you? What is he forgot about you and everything about that night.? You shake your head and realize what you’re doing, your friends probably haven’t gotten far.

Before you can run back to your friends you hear heavy footsteps, you turn around frantically. And you finally see Joost turning the corner to the hallway to where you were. He turns his head when you both lock eyes, both of you freezing. You stared at each other, breathing heavily and hearts racing.

“J-Joost..?” You stutter out, your voice weak and body stiff. He immediately breaks out of his trace at the sound of that voice that he’d missed so much. He runs towards you and embraces you, it was strange…it really was. This amount of affection for someone you hadn’t seen a few months and only spend one night together.

But it felt like you both were intertwined, sewn together in some way (Adrianne Lenker mentioned?!) He smiles, picking you up and spinning you around. “Holy shit it’s really you, fuck I’m so sorry. I regretted leaving as soon as I closed your door. I’m sorry if I made you feel used or unimportant, your not and i-“ he’s put off my a soft kiss being pressed to his lips

You grab his face as his hands pull your waist to be flush against his hips. Both of you are out of breath, pressing messy and rough kisses to each others lips. You moan softly on his lips and joost took his opportunity to slip his tounge into your mouth. Nothing but love shown in the kisses as he presses you up against the wall behind you, towering over you as you finally pull away.

“I’m not letting you go again, I hope you’re aware of that..” he says with his signature smile and you giggle before responding, “I wouldn’t have it any other way..” you say before he lowers his head, catching your lips in his once more

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ “ Wanna listen to the sound of you blinking, wanna listen to your hands soothe. Listen to your heart beating, listen to the way you move” - Adrianne lenker 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋

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TAGLIST: @timewillpasssoon @poppymelonz @pickle-juice-and-vodka @imsiriuslyreal

#joost x fem reader #joost x male reader #joost klein x you #joost klein x reader #joost x reader #joost klein #justice for joost

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luminiamore · 2 days

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biker suguru geto x hoochie mama reader

part 2 lols

first part is here

warnings: toxic reader a bit, drinking, smoking, suguru goes crazy cause you block him, public sex, partayy, sugu and sato banter, down bad sugu, reader has intimacy issues, mean sugu

Click!

‘Come on, more face.’

Click! Click!

‘Just like that, perfect. Lean down a little.’

Click!

Another day brings another photo shoot. Waking up early to model for another brand was your ultimate pleasure. Being the center of attention wasn’t mandatory for you, but you had a liking for it. You had a feeling your day would be great today, and you weren’t wrong.

You were modeling for one of your favorite brands, Juicy Couture. You also had a party later. Satoru had begged you to come because he claims he hasn’t ‘seen you in forever. pleaseee, i miss you.’

Why, one may ask?

In reality, you were feeling a bit overwhelmed and needed a way to escape from the awful feeling. What’s a better way to do that than to distract yourself with what you’re most skilled at, being a star?

It’s been a few weeks since the night with Suguru, and you haven’t seen him since then. You were entirely responsible for this, but you would never admit it. You ghosted him, blocked his phone number, and avoided buying weed from Satoru to avoid seeing him again.

This is for the best, you thought. He could have made a woman insane with the way he slutted you out that day, and you didn’t want to deal with the consequences of his dick. Suguru had no idea how crazy you could get when you were attached, and you honestly believed you were saving him somehow.

The fact is, you were afraid. You were afraid to make a commitment because you were afraid of losing your heart again. From what Suguru looked like, it seemed like he was someone who could break hearts. Attachment issues can cause you to become overly bound to someone you really like. You made an effort to prevent that from happening before it even started.

The first day without any communication with him was fine. You carried on with your usual routine, except for one thing..he haunted your dreams that night. He penetrated both your mind and your pussy. He ate you and sucked all over your pussy lips with such haphazardness that you believed it was real. You pictured your spongy spot being abused by his fingertips until you cried and drowned him in cream and the remainder of your juices.

The next day, you awoke to a dripping pussy and sweat falling down your chest. You brushed it off, believing that it was just the result of having good sex. As time passed without you talking to him, the dreams became more intense. There were times when you would wake up in the middle of the night and couldn’t even go back to sleep until you made yourself cum. The image of him obscured your mind as your smaller fingers barely helped you reach your peak.

You had half a brain to believe this nigga was putting a spell on you. Did he really have an impact on you so much that you had to dream about him every night, even after trying to completely erase him from your mind? Did he? You snapped out of your thoughts as the photographer told you the next position he wanted you in. Get it together bitch.

Suguru probably didn’t even notice; he was probably with the next bitch right now.

How wrong you are.

- - -

“Satoru, I swear to god, if you don’t tell her to unblock me-”

A long sigh comes from the aforementioned man. This has to be the tenth time he has heard those words escape Suguru’s mouth today. He couldn’t take it. It’s been just a week since he had sex with you, he realized you blocked him after the first day. So you can imagine how many threats were sent Satoru’s way at your expense.

“I can’t do that! She told me if I mention you, she’ll block me too!”

Suguru just clenched his teeth and mumbled quiet curses under his breath with a frown, “This is pointless. I’m going to her house.”

“She’s not there. She told me she’s crashing at a friend’s place. And no, I have no idea where that friend lives.” He utters out, anticipating what the long-haired man would say.

“So, what the fuck do I do then?” Suguru swears he’s close to pulling out his hair.

“..Move on?”

“I’ll beat the fuck out of you right now.”

Satoru grumbled against the blunt that he was smoking, almost coughing because it hit his lungs a little harder than expected. He swears that both of you have put more stress on him than when he was pulled over yesterday.

“Oh, that’s just rude. But, fine. How about this? I’ll throw a party, beg her to come, and just conveniently forget to mention you’ll be there.”

Before Suguru starts to nitpick at his plan, he quickly finishes his statement with a grin, “And to make it even more interesting, I’ll tell her you absolutely hate parties.”

Suguru removes the burning joint from Satoru’s hand with a sly smile, “Looks like you’re not dumb after all.”

He can only roll his eyes fondly while his best friend quietly laughs and responds to him.

“Well, what can I say? I do have my moments of brilliance.”

- - -

You didn’t expect the time to get ready for the party to come sooner. You were in your friend’s bathroom, smoothing out the final strands of your side part bust down. Your makeup was already done and set. Your outfit had you smiling already. Your skirt is black leather and of course mini. The lowest cut white tank you could find that beautifully shows your leopard print bra.

After setting down the flat iron, you put on hoop earrings, gold bangles, and necklaces that match your outfit. To complete the look, your flawlessly manicured feet are adorned with clear strapless stripper heels. Tonight, someone was going home with you. To take your mind off the man who would not leave your dreams alone, you needed another good fuck.

“Yo, you ready? Uber’s here.”

You heard your friend’s voice from the living room. You quickly spray yourself with Chanel Coco perfume and hurry toward your companion, who is holding the door for you.

As expected, there were more than two hundred people present at another one of Satoru’s estates. You could hear the music for at least two blocks before you arrived. You can have your own opinion about the man, but the one thing you cannot say is that he lacks the ability to throw a party. People were dancing outside due to the high crowding inside.

Your friend holds your hand and takes you inside, already clapping and swaying a bit because she pre-grammed. The first hour went well. A few shots of Tequila and some Jack Daniel’s were already in your system as you and your friend danced in the sea of bodies. And the best of all, no sight of Suguru. It’s not like you were looking for him, of course not.

“Sis, you made it! Eugh, I’ve missed you like crazy.” You sense pressure on your shoulders and recognize him as Satoru based on his voice. The alcohol makes you realize how much you missed him as you flip around and bury your face in his chest.

Your words slur a bit, “Toru, missed you s’much.”

The scent of alcohol on your breath makes him grimace. Your brother grabs your shoulders and pushes your body towards the nearest wall, which happens to be next to the bathroom.

“Yeah, you definitely need some water. Seriously, how can you even stomach that stuff?”

You laugh at his disdain for drinking. He sees the friend you came with flirting with a guy at the opposite corner, and he thinks she looks pretty safe. He’ll still keep an eye on her in case he tries anything.

“Stay put. I’ll fetch you something non-alcoholic, lightweight.”

You sigh and nod, observing him as he leaves. You realize that the leather skirt you wore had pockets, and as you shuffle around, you feel something in one of them. You gasp. An exquisitely rolled pink joint. As you grab a blue lighter on the floor, which is probably Satoru’s, your eyes twinkle as you walk up to his room.

Even if you’re a bit intoxicated, you can still walk in a straight line, passing by many people on your way there. Once you find the door, you swiftly close it and breathe a sigh of relief upon seeing that there is no one inside. Opening his window, you take no hesitation in sparking up, and for some reason, the weed completely drowns out the tipsy feeling you had just moments ago.

You don’t hear when the door creaks open. Or even when it closes again with a click, indicating it was locked. The tension caused by someone sitting next to you on the bed causes you to immediately flinch and turn your head to the perpetrator.

“Miss me, sweetheart?”

You try to stammer out a response, opening and closing your mouth for a few seconds now. You’re so shocked to see him, and you’re sure once you find a way out of here, you’re going to beat Satoru’s ass for not telling you that he would be here.

He raises his hand and pushes a water bottle in your direction, “Have a drink.”

You hesitantly grab his bottle and look away, completely missing the way his eyes are obscuring your body with a hazy gaze. The thumping music is drowning out Suguru’s thoughts. Thoughts of.. fuck, you look good tonight. He’s not embarrassed to admit he missed you, your supple thighs and pretty face. After being away from you for weeks, it dawns on him now. Oh, he was going to ruin you.

After drinking half the plastic bottle, you settle down and ash the blunt from not taking a hit for a while. Suguru’s eyes never leave you for a second as you finally find the words to say, “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

He chortles, “You’ve been quite elusive, sweetheart. Care to explain your disappearing act?”

You stay quiet because what could you say, really?

‘Sorry, I ghosted you, but you fucked me so good, and I didn’t want to get attached.’?

That’s not you. Being around Suguru can make you feel nervous and vulnerable. That night felt like he stripped you beyond just your clothes and saw your soul completely. You’ve never experienced anything like that before.

“Should I fuck it out of you instead?” He asks with the same calmness as if he were discussing the weather.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” Your soft whisper fills the air.

You watch him pretend to think and make fun of him while rolling your eyes, “Hm, let’s start with why you blocked me after screaming at the top of your lungs that you’re mine.”

You give a long sigh before you ultimately utter, “I didn’t want to get attached. Last thing I need is another family filing a missing person’s report over me. I’ve been through the cheating mess once, not doing it again.”

There it goes again. Vulnerability seeping through whenever Suguru was around you. And Suguru’s not dumb, he can sense how difficult it was for those words to even tumble past your glossed lips.

Despite the loud music, there is a silence between you. It ends when Suguru violently grasps your chin and presses his lips on yours with a nasty kiss that leaves you with a pleasant sigh.

A peck. “Do y’know..”

Another peck. “..how fucking crazy it drove me..”

One long smooch. “..not hearing from you.”

He’s desperately pulling your tank top off you, effortlessly clipping off your bra, “Could barely sleep.”

He instantly wraps your nipple around his soft lips. You gasp as you tug at his tangled hair with your hands.

He groans, already drunk off a minor taste of you, “Couldn’t even cum properly, sweetheart. Pathetic, right?”

You whimper and squeal when he lifts you up and places your exposed ass right on the growing erection he’s had since you first walked into the party. Your wetness was detectable to him as it dripped through your panties, seeping through the jeans he was wearing. He didn’t even have to tell you to start grinding on him, you did that all on your own.

“Have you thought of me at all? Maybe I should give you a spanking for every..” Spank! “..single” Spank! “..day you haven’t spoken to me.”

You hysterically moan and hiss at the sting as he rubs his hand to soothe your ass.

“M’speaking to you, baby.”

He plays with the straps of your thong from the back, then rips them off in one go. His long fingers snaked down to spread apart your wet pussy lips. He’s playing with you. You realize this. But you’ve been so eager to have him play with you again that you don’t seem to care.

Your shaky words are stammered out with hiccups, “Yes! Every n-night I swear. I kept d-dreaming of you, only you, Sugu!”

With his eyes closed, he mutters a curse under his breath. You dream of him? Every night? Why torture the both of you like this? He wonders. You could’ve had him in your bed every night if you weren’t so fucking stubborn.

Suguru breathes out, “Yeah? What’d I do in those dreams of yours, sweetheart?”

You don’t reply and hide your pretty face in his chest, the fabric of his tee gently touching your skin. You’re feeling embarrassed for thinking of something so obscene. You? Embarrassed? Who is this man? This man is turning you into a piece of putty in his hands. In his beautiful, big hands.

“Better start talking. Won’t fuck you till you tell me.”

You give a pitiful cry when he plunges his long fingers into your plushy, tight hole, keeping them still. Grinding and bucking your hips is a way to get him to move, but it’s not enough. Your hips are securely held by Suguru’s unoccupied hand.

You finally give in, “Y-You would have me on my knees as you- as you ate me f-from the back.”

His laugh makes you even wetter with his fingers, and you have no doubt that he can tell. He gives you a drooling kiss, “Really? I would’ve done that eventually. But you don’t deserve my tongue for what you did. Not now, anyway.”

Your cute whine at such a confession almost makes him reconsider. So, he shuts you up with a quick swat to your ass and a harsh pace of his fingers moving in and out of you, “Shh. What else did I do, sweetheart?”

He was becoming impatient. He wanted to be inside of you, but you were whimpering against him and not giving him answers. This was paining him as much as it was paining you. The hard dick that was leaking pre-cum from his angry red tip in his pants was a testament to that.

Another harsh slap to your sore ass, “You’re really pushing it. Waited weeks just to have you again, and now you’re still making me wait?”

You sob out quickly, “You- You fucked my mouth, and you p-put it- in here,” You shake your hand as you reach for him from behind and pull him towards your puckered hole. Suguru’s surprise was apparent, his eyes widening at your words. You were destined to be his death.

No more waiting.

He couldn’t anymore, not after what you just said. Suguru lifts you up and drops you on the bed. He is clamoring to enter the heaven in between your thighs. He only partially undresses his shirt, showing off his smooth skin and abs. He hastily unbuckles his belt, pushing his jeans down just enough to make his cock slap against his chest with a dirty squelch sound.

He wasn’t even wearing boxers. It’s almost as if he knew he would be stuffed deep into your soft, tight pussy tonight.

The panting man gives your pussy two flicks before he spreads your lips apart and forces his cock inside of you. It’s been quite some time, at least it feels like that, since he’s been inside of you. Yet, your pussy doesn’t hesitate to accommodate his vast girth like it knows who it belongs to. Him. And it will only ever be him if Suguru has a say in it. And you can trust that after he’s done with you, he will.

It’s so filthy. How you desperately buck your hips against him to force him deeper inside you despite whispering against his ear that you “C-can’t take it. Ah! T’much- too f-fucking-”

It’s so sloppy. The sounds you make as he feeds you deep, fast strokes, your pussy being so wet that it’s spreading across your thighs every single time his hips meet yours in a frenzy.

Your eyes roll back in your head as Suguru puts his hand around your throat and squeezes, blocking your airway while frantically saying, “Shut the fuck up. You’re gonna take everything I give this perfect pussy. Understand?”

What more can you do but wail and scream out broken whimpers of ‘Yes!’ and ‘Please.’ What were you even begging for? It couldn’t possibly be any less than what he was feeding your battered pussy as you harshly dug your nails down his back, no doubt leaving scratches. Your mouth is wide open as Suguru fucks you, drool dripping from the side of your plump lips.

He can’t help but think, you never looked more beautiful. You’re being split apart by his fat dick, and through your adorable haze, you’re starting to wonder how you ever went weeks without him. He’s being particularly cruel, not even prepping you and showing no mercy as he finds solace in your shivering body. You’re vulnerable, receiving his ferocious punches against your g-spot.

You feel the all too familiar pressure in your abdomen, it’s burning and spreading throughout your entire quivering body. You try to warn him that you’re gonna cum, try to force the words past your lips, but you can’t. He fucks it out of you every time you try, and the hand on your throat barely lessens its pressure. You are confined to giving a silent scream as your squirts cover the groaning man above you in stream-like spurts.

Suguru keeps going, only grabbing one of your feet that is pressing on his chest and putting it in his mouth, slobbering all over your white toes. He breathes against you, eyes low, watching your chest heaving, “Never pull that stunt again. Swear to me, you’ll never do it again.”

Even as he eased his grip on your throat so you could speak, you were barely coherent. His eyes bore into yours with such intensity that it caused another mini orgasm out of you. His entire length is coated in a beautiful white cream paste that almost makes him lose his mind when he glances down.

Will power. That’s the only reason Suguru hasn’t dumped his heavy load in your cunt already. You squeal, your following words a breathless, “Swear! Never again, p-promise. Want you s’bad Sugu. M’all yours!”

“Yeah, you are. Mine, and only mine. I’ll drill that into your brain all night if I have to. Make damn sure you never even think about pulling some dumb shit like that again.”

#lumiwrites #jjk x black reader #geto suguru #jjk smut #jjk fanfic #geto suguru x black reader smut #fanfic #geto suguru smut #geto x black reader #suguru geto smut #jujutsu geto #geto x reader #getou suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen suguru #jjk suguru #getou suguru x you #gojo satoru x black reader #jujutsu gojo

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only-goose · 2 days

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Busted

A/N: it’s a little short, I’m sorry. My requests are open, I’m going to start writing for all Formula (Prema too).

Arthur Leclerc x Norris!reader

Warnings: upset Lando, making out, little swearing, indicated to smut (none tho)

Based off this comment ⬇️

@barcelonaloverf1life thank you!! 🫶🏻

You had followed Lando around your whole life, he was your big brother. You love him to pieces. Some might say you were more excited that him when he was announced as an official Formula 1 driver. You came with him to every race, getting to know a lot of the drivers very well. Becoming close friends with a Spaniard, which led to a Monegasque, which led to a certain younger brother.

That was three years ago. Now, you and Arthur had been secretly dating for over a year. You expertly hid your relationship from your brothers, especially Lando. You know Charles wouldn’t have too much of a problem with his brother dating you. You also know that Lando was explode if he knew you were dating the impulsive idiot from Oscar’s Prema days.

It was time, once again, for the Monaco gp. One of the very few times a year you could publicly be seen with your boyfriend for a good reason. After making sure Lando was busy getting ready for the race, you slipped over to the Ferrari garage. Arthur was leaning against a wall, talking to his brother and an engineer when he spotted you. He clapped his brother on the shoulder and took off towards you.

It had been way too long (a couple days) since you had last seen each other and all you wanted to do was kiss him. Which you couldn’t, because you were in public. “I have an idea” you said as you turned to him. You snuck him through the McLaren garage and into your brothers driver room. You knew he wouldn’t be coming back until much later so you knew you had time.

You closed the door and pushed Arthur into it. You gripped his broad shoulder with one hand and tangled the other in his hair, bringing him down to your lips. You both began feverishly making out, tongues fighting. When Arthur won, he pushed you into the wall next to the door. His hands slipped under your shirt to play with your tits through your bra, his knee moved in between your legs and applied pressure to your clit. You started grinding on the knee, letting out little whimpers until the door to the drivers room opened. “WHAT THE FUCK”

Lando grabbed Arthur’s shirt and yanked him backwards as Oscar rushed in “what happened?” “Your prema mate was eating my sisters face off” Lando said as he kept prattling on “this is ridiculous. And in my room for fucks sake! Why now y/n? Why the sudden interest?” Lando asked. Arthur moved to answer, immediately being glared at my Lando. If looks could kill, Arthur would already be six feet under.

Lando looked at you, waiting for your answer. “Actually, Lando, Arthur and I have been dating for over a year. We didn’t want to tell you because we knew how you would react” Lando’s jaw hit the floor. “I’m getting Charles” he grumbled. Charles walked in five minutes later, we were both sitting together on the floor. “Finally got busted?” He laughed.

Lando looked at him, dumbfounded. “You knew?!!” He screeched. “I had my suspicions, until I walked in on them making it. They didn’t even know I was there” Charles admitted “come with me” he said afterwards. Charles took Lando outside and had a long talk with him. When they came back, Lando announced “I have a deal to make little Leclerc. Make my sister happy and I won’t murder you. Break or hurt her in anyway and you will never think about racing again”

Arthur nodded, agreeing with Lando. After everyone left the room, you turned to Arthur and said “I can’t believe we finally got busted. I thought it would have happened way sooner!” That made Arthur laugh.

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i-cant-sing · 2 days

Text

Yandere Batfam x reader who cant feel pain

HEhehehe i just remembered a disease and I just had to write about a reader with it x yandere batfam.

Have you guys heard of CIPA? Its "Congenital insensitivity to pain with anhidrosis" which is basically a genetic condition when a patient cant feel pain to any noxious stimulus and can also not sweat, and yall are probably like "but SNoWWW, that doesnt like a diSEase. More like a superpower!!!" um no. You need to be able to feel pain or else you wont know what part of your body has been injured and get help before its too late. You could have thumbtack plunged in your foot and u wouldnt know unless it got infected and u probably saw ur foot changing color.

And now yall are like "but SNoWw, the anhidrosis part, where u cant sweat, sounds nice! who would to look like a sweaty pig in this age????" NO! Sweating is a necessary physiologic phenomenon because it lets your body cool down as it releases heat. If you dont sweat, you'd overheat and DIE!

Okay now that we've covered the basic info, lets get into it:

So, Batfam finds out about reader when she's just running into danger with little to no care for self preservation, and they dismiss it as you being just another dumb teen wanting to be hero and "change the world". Time passes by and Bruce is impressed by your passion and decides to take you under his wing.

It isnt until months later that Bruce discovers something odd about your behaviour. You were standing in the kitchen with the rest of the batkids, laughing and having a good time when he saw Dick had pulled out a hot pan of cookies from the oven and placed it on the aisle. The pan slipped, and without thinking, you had grabbed the hot pan with your bare hands very calmly and placed it back on the aisle, without so much as a hiss of pain or even a sweat.

And now that he thinks about it, Bruce has never seen you sweat. Not during training, not during summer, not even when after you ran laps around the mansion.

With a quick search on the Internet, he finds out about the disease and of course its Dick who he confides in first about his suspicions. Soon, the rest of the batfam has heard the rumours and now they're all watching you keenly to see if its true.

But Jason is the one who tests out the theory quickly by spilling some hot tea on your hand when you were busy talking to Tim about the importance of sleep. The room goes dead silent as they watch your hand turn red, yet you fail to react. It took you a few seconds to realise that they're all looking at you, and when you follow their gaze, it takes you a few seconds to react.

Or fake a reaction.

You shriek, pulling your reddening hand as you run to the sink and run it under cold water, your mind trying to come up with an excuse. But you know its too late when Bruce's hand comes to clasp your shoulder, pulling you away from the sink as his eyes examine your injured hand and... you.

"Bruce I-"

"I know, Y/n." He gives you assuring nod, carefully bandaging your hand as you sat in his office. "You have CIPA, hm?"

You looked down. Why bother lying? He's Batman, he'll find out anyways.

Bruce lifted your head and smiled gently at you. "Its okay. I'm not disappointed in you. I just... you could've told me." You shook your head. "If I did, you would've treated me differently... like a freak."

He sighed. "You are different, but I would've never treated you like a freak. You're not a freak. If anything, between us, I'm more of a freak than you." He was talking about being a hero, but you giggled at the thought of him referring to being a rich dude who cosplays in spandex.

Bruce cupped your cheek and smiled. "I promise, no one will treat you like a freak. But we will have to take some precautions for your safety."

He lied. You've never felt more like a freak than you do now.

Every single day would start off with Dick waking you up and sticking a thermometer in your mouth because he needs to make sure that you're not overheating, even though Bruce has set a thermostat in your room that he controls and he's programmed it to turn your room temperature change by the hour.

Then Dick would start checking you all over for any bruises or injuries, even a scratch, that you may have caused yourself in your sleep. Originally, Damian was the one who had a whole checklist as he examined your body, but that all ended the moment you smacked him when he asked you to lift your shirt. Dick would just have you go and check yourself in the bathroom and trust you when you said you're all good. Also, you're much nicer to Dick than you are to the rest of the brothers (its his puppy dog eyes and that sweet voice that compels you to do as he asks. He's just too nice.)

Dick would then lead you to down for breakfast with the family, where Alfred already has your glucometer out because of course, they must check your blood sugar level every day, lest they find out you're diabetic or something. Only then would you be served your meal, which is a highly nutritous, perfeclty seasoned, balanced dish because they want to make sure you dont have any vitamin deficiencies (because how would they know???? you dont feel pain). But you cant eat just yet. No no, whichever brother is closer, most often Jason, will first taste your food to make sure its not too hot to consume (because you dont realise you've burned the roof of your mouth that one time when Tim ate a slice of pizza that was fresh out of the oven and huppahhuffpuhh the morsel out). Jason would then give you the go to eat and you finally do. You make sure to finish the whole plate (because otherwise Bruce will make note of it and then interrogate you "medically" why you didnt feel like eating all of it?)

After breakfast, while the rest of the batkids get to go to school and work, you dont (because Bruce thinks that your immune system could be weak and he cant risk you catching any diseases from the outside.) No, you get a special trip to the infirmary where Bruce and Alfred do a more thorough medical check up, taking your vitals, JOTTING IT DOWN, while Alfred hooks you up to an IV drip of vitamins. And even though they go to such extents to ensure that you're healthy, they still take you to a skilled doctor once a week for regular check ups. Bruce wanted to keep the doctor in the house to do daily check ups, but you talked him out of it that you dont want to feel like a lab rat who has her blood taken every day. Once a week is fine, Bruce.

Once the medical check up is done, Bruce would then take you with him, either to Wayne enterprises where you sit in his office as he imparts you "business education that no school can teach you." which you believe because... well he has managed to triple the Wayne wealth even after his parents death. If he's working from home, then he'll let you accompany him in his home office where you can either read a book he chose for you (because Bruce prefers to homseschool you himself) or do a puzzle/case he created specifically for you. If he's working in the batcave, then he'll let you tag along but you can only work here by brainstorming or doing some computer research, but in no way are you allowed to ever go on field and fight. No, not since your last incident.

Just 2 months ago, you were patrolling with Jason (because Bruce refused to let you go alone now. He just wont risk it) and you encountered some bad guys who were a little more well equipped than you two had expected. A fight broke out, and in the process you got hurt badly. Of course, you didnt realise it because you didnt feel any of the punches or the bone fracturing. Jason could only look at you in dread as you smashed your head against the villain's head until the guy passed out, all while your nose bled, you were covered in bruises from top to bottom, AND you had a bone sticking out of your arm.

"Jay? I think I'm hurt?" You asked as blood coated your teeth.

After that, Bruce forbid you from going out on the field altogether because you just dont know when to stop. If it werent for bones sticking out or blood dripping down your face, you wouldnt know that you've been injured.

Anyways, at lunch, almost everyone has returned from work/school and you get yet another balanced meal (temperature tested by another brother). You're now scheduled for some exercises, usually conducted by Damian (under Dick's supervision because otherwise, you'd just be smacking that devil's spawn.) You guys use the gym in the basement, where Damian makes you run on the treadmill for some time, during which he does not take his eyes off you once because he needs to know when he should stop you, especially since you dont sweat or are even huff. If he didnt keep time, you could probably run for a long time and not realise that your legs or lungs are begging you to stop and take a break. As you hop off the machine, he's immediately taking your temperature. He does it after every exercise he makes you do.

After that is done, you spend time with Tim who likes to have you try on little gadgets that should "help you feel pain", but so far, he hasnt had any luck (but he doesn seem to be doing good in disguising trackers in your daily wear things). Oh and Damian loves to join in because he gets to sneak up on you and prick you with needles to help Tim see if your sensory pathways work. They dont, but you dont need your pain receptors to detect Damian coming up behind you as you smack him when he tries to prick you.

Then dinner is served, and then you're ushered straight to bed where Dick, or more often- Bruce has you do a self check like the one Dick does in the morning, but Bruce also makes sure to check your eyes to see if you "accidentally scratched your cornea" or whatever, tucks you in, tells you that he's so proud of you for how youre handling this and that you can come to him anytime, for anything. He kisses your forehead, wishes you goodnight, and leaves.

Half an hour later, Jason sneaks into your room with the goodies- junk food and video games. You two have the strongest bond because Jason is the one who treats you the most normal, and Jason does it partly to piss off Bruce but partly because he cares about your mental health. He knows it cant be good for you to be cooped up in the mansion under supervision like a bird in a gilded cage.

So sometimes, he sneaks you out of the mansion and takes you out on late night rides on his bike. You can even watch him fight villains, but you're sat far away and can never interferre.

Unfortunately for you two, this sneaking out will have to end because Bruce had recently decided to set up some cameras in your room because he wanted to make sure you slept well without any abnormal breathing patterns. Bruce hopes he doesnt have to use restraints on you, because he's not blind. He knows you're uncomfortable with this intricate routine and knowing your impulsive self, you'd probably break your own bones to get out of these restraints. And then he'll be forced to use sedatives and he really doesnt wanna rely on drugs... he likes your company when you're not droopy.

And as Bruce had anticipated, you broke down. You finally tried to leave, and he could see the color draining your face as you realised that there is no leaving.

"Why isnt the door opening?" You asked Bruce, as his four sons slowly surrounded you.

"You dont have to run away, Y/n-" He tried to calm you down but you flinched away, eyes wide as you looked at him like he was going to harm you.

"Bruce, why isnt the fucking door opening?" Your voice trembled, shooting him teary glare before focusing your eyes back on the boys who were closing in on you.

"You're meant to stay here, inside, where its safe." He answered, heart aching at the alarmed stance you took, your fight-or-flight was going to kick in. He took another step towards you, hands raised in surrender. "We can keep you safe-" thats all it took for you to bolt as the boys began chasing you. Realistically, you knew you couldnt escape them but something about their intensely concerned calls for your name had you jumping out of the window.

Glass shattered and sharp shards embedded themselves in your skin and feet, but you didnt react to them. No, your brain wasnt screaming in pain, it was screaming for you to get out!

Adrenaline pumped you to run into the dark woods surrounding the mansion, but you were soon knocked to the ground by Dick, who cushioned your fall by placing you on top of him as his hands wrapped around your form like a cage. "Y/n, calm down and listen-"

You began thrashing in his arms, screaming in agony. "Let ME GO! YOU'RE HURTING ME-!" Dick's arms loosened instinctively and you took that as a chance to elbow him in the throat and run, thanking some deity for letting Dick forget that you cant feel pain.

But your relief is short lived as Damian catches you and pushes you to the ground harshly. "Damian! Be careful! She could break a bone-"

"Bones can heal, Drake." Damian barked back, pulling you up before he pushed you against tree. "Let me go, you maniac-" Damian's hand clamped around your throat, making you shut up. "You're the one who's a maniac. Look at you! You've fucking hurt yourself because if your astounding stupidity!"

You whimpered, clawing at his hand wrapped around your throat. "Dami- p-please let go- you're hurting me!" You cried out, but your eyes went wide as he squeezed your throat and bared his teeth at you. "Not falling for it, dumbass." So... fooling Damian wasnt as easy a feat as it was fooling Dick.

You stopped the act and looked at him dead serious. "Let me go, Damian, or-"

"Or what?"

Or what? Or what? Did he think you were out of options? Out of escape plans?

You dont know why, but that triggered something inside you.

Damian and Tim could only watch as you suddenly slammed the back of your head against the tree. "Y/n-" He gasped in horror as you leaned your head forward before slamming it back against the hard rough surface. This time, Damian's hand that was wrapped around your neck felt your blood around his fingers.

"Its my life and I get to decide how I should live it." You sneered before raising your head again to bash it, but Damian's hand quickly slipped from your neck to the back of your head, cushioning it when you smacked it back, the skin on the back of his hand breaking as it made contact with the bark.

You pushed him away and tried to make a run for it, but Tim grabbed your wrist. You tried to pull away, but he had a death grip on it. "Y/n, stop! You need to listen-"

"Oh is that so? I think I need this." You used your other hand to punch yourself in the face (because Tim would've dodged it if you punched him), making your nose bleed. But you didnt feel any pain, and now you were acting like a super soldier zombie that has no concept of self preservation who is going through fucked up lengths to prove her point.

Your eyes caught the sight of a glass shard poking out of your thigh. "Wanna see something cool?" You pulled out the shard, not paying mind to the blood oozing out. "Y/n, stop-" Tim begged, and you saw Damian froze in the back as you raised the shard.

They didnt know what your next target was- slashing your wrists, slitting your throat, or stabbing your stomach, but fortunately, they didnt have to find out as Jason came up behind you and injected you with a tranquilliser.

Sadly, you never felt the prick or sensed the hero sneaking up behind you.

thoughts? also, what other diseases would u guys like me to write for. i just adore these cool medical abnormalities lol

#yandere batfam #yandere batman #yandere batboys #yandere bruce wayne #yandere jason todd x reader #yandere jason todd #yandere dick grayson #yandere damian wayne #yandere damian x reader #yandere tim drake #yandere #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere family

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queerbuckleys · 2 days

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LONG MAY YOU ROAR [bucktommy | soft & gentle | 1k] a/n: hi uhh so this randomly popped into my head, and it's the first time i have ever really written in tommy's pov so it's far from perfect but it doesn't really make sense to tell it from another so i tried something new weee. there's some bonus sweet buckley siblings implications <3 title barely has anything to do with the fic/i do not want to be too sad about it, i just love robin from ttpd and it's about childhood so it fit... well enough. tw for mentions of canonical childhood cancer and death of a child

Tommy stands in his boyfriend’s living room, beer in one hand and he takes in the decor. He’s seen it all before but he's still getting to know the man that’s fussing over dinner in the kitchen. And there is something new, resting on the tv stand, is a photo of a boy riding a bicycle, his back toward the camera. It’s the first time Tommy has noticed it. He had never seen any pictures of a young Evan before, it never struck him as strange, not very many people kept baby pictures around their adult home – that’s why this one felt somewhat strange. There were the photo booth strips, Polaroids, and school pictures of Chris and Jee on the fridge or placed in a drawer around the loft, but no other kids were present in this space. Nothing else is so formal. He figures it has to be Evan, and it was special for some reason. So he picks it up and turns to his boyfriend who is smiling and making his way over to him, finally satisfied with letting the lasagna finish baking.

“Who is this handsome young man?” he asks, a gentle teasing lilt in his voice.

And Evan’s demeanor shifts, he’s still smiling, but it turns sad and bittersweet. His whole body sags ever so slightly. Tommy watches as his Adam's apple bobs, he takes a deep breath with his eyes closed and steps closer. He traces the edge of the frame, his eyes transfixed on the back of the bike. “This is my brother. Daniel.” Evan swallows again.

“You’ve never mentioned…Could he not make it to the wedding?” He asks, but there is a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that tells him that there is more to the story.

“You could say that,” Evan responds with a dry hough of a barely there laugh. “He, he um, he died when I was little. Leukemia. I never really knew him. Our parents–” He shakes his head.

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”

“I want to. It’s just, that I haven’t told the story so far removed from finding out. I told the 118 right away, while I was still numb. And the very messy deep personal feelings version to my therapist, but I’m still working through a lot. So, I don’t know. It might be hard for me to explain it all.”

“Well we can sit down to start,” He says gently with a smile. Taking Evan’s hand, running a soothing thumb over his knuckles. Evan nods and follows his lead to the couch.

“I just, it’s hard to know where to start,” Evan sighs.

“What about why you only now have this picture up?”

Evan smiles a little. “Maddie gave it to me for his birthday last week.” he clears his throat, “So, basically I didn’t even know that I had a brother until just before Jee was born.” Evan looks over at him, trying to gauge his reaction. He lets the words flow over him, and his brow scrunches, tilting his head in confusion.

“My parents kept several secrets from me, forced Maddie to keep them too, for thirty years. They all came to light when I stumbled across that picture in Maddie’s baby box. The past few years since then have been busy, and she found it again after her move and everything and had a copy made for me and had it framed. He has the right for his life to be remembered and celebrated after being a secret for so long.”

“Why was it a secret?” He lets the question slip out, “If you want to share that.”

“Well, um,” Buck ducks his head a little, “Have you ever seen My Sister's Keeper?” he asks, looking back at him with a questioning look on his face. It isn’t what Tommy is expecting in the slightest. But Tommy has seen the movie in question, and the dots slowly begin to connect. And Evan has this look in his eyes that tells him he’s right.

“Oh, Evan.”

“It just never worked for him though. Sometimes I still feel like I failed him somehow.” Evan rolls his bottom lip between his teeth. “I was always treated like a disappointment by my parents and didn’t know why until I was thirty years old, I was never going to be absolved of a sin I didn’t even know I had committed. Maddie though, she raised me. She always treated me like any kid would want to be treated. So, now we celebrate his birthday when we can and Maddie tells me about him. She always comes up with new stuff she remembers after keeping it tucked away for so long. Or how I remind her of him and stuff. It’s good for her to talk about him, and for me to hear it.”

Tommy smiles at him at that, “I have never been under the impression that your relationship with her isn’t very special. Thank you for telling me about this part of your family.”

“Well, you knew most of all the other members of my family before me, as Chimney likes to remind me.” Evan laughs and relaxes back into his arms, tucking his face into Tommy’s neck. “Thank you for listening.” he runs his fingers over his hands, “I wanted to tell you. I just never knew how to bring it up, or what base talking about a dead brother was.” He can feel Evan’s small smile against his neck, and he laughs gently too.

“Someday soon I’ll tell you about my family too.” He twists his fingers in Evan’s curls.

“Whenever you are ready. I’ll wait.” Evan places a light kiss on his jaw.

The oven beeps declaring the lasagna to be finished and Evan groans, ungluing himself from his side. Once Evan is back in the kitchen, Tommy lifts the photo up again from the coffee table and gently returns it to its home.

#evan buckley #tommy kinard #911fic #bucktommy #911 #*aj writes stuff

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heartlyrins · 2 days

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HAII any quick drabbles abt dad!blade? i remember reading one if ur dad!jy posts that blades daughter have it WORSE than jing yuans...... :3

I just realized I never wrote about daddy!blade, I honestly forgot.. 😓 daddy blade deserves some recognition too

Tw:incest, noncon, verbal and mental abuse mentions, past child abandonment, ass abuse again!! Dldr under the keep reading <3 don't come after me when you've seen the warnings itself

Just want to say that you absolutely do not want this man as your father. I mean.. When he was Yingxing he practically abandoned you in his house, leaving you chores, making you cook for yourself once you were old enough.. And when he means old enough he means that when you reached the age you could start talking.

I mean it. This man would leave you to do your own thing like you aren't an 8 year old child, STILL NEEDING GUIDANCE FROM HIM but he leaves you alone anyways to make shitty weapons. Then when you were like 13 he apparently committed some shitty crime and sentenced to prison while being immortal or stuff..

You had a couple of years from him, your uncle Jing Yuan takes care of you while he's not there and you much prefer Jing Yuan more than him. But we'll, after he's been through shit and fought Jingliu over and over again he came back to you.

New form, black hair.. Is this even your father?? And now he's basically evil so he drags you to go follow him do stellaron hunters mission with him, but the catch is.. You stay trapped in his room while he's doing mission which makes it all the worse.

You much prefer him just leaving you alone and abandoning you instead of staying trapped in some kind of spaceship.. Strange spider lady takes care of you now, but only in terms of food or something.

Then when your father comes home his body is stained of blood and he drags you over to bathe with him. He's not touching you, no he's not. It's a just a father-daughter bonding time thing. Oh, you don't want to? Well would you rather do something else like being spanked until you're bleeding?

No right? So let him do this. And eventually it would become a normal thing. He comes home from tiring missions>>>>>you get fucked out of your life until the bed almost break. He comes home from dangerous enemies and now he's bleeding>>>>you have to treat his wounds while riding him.

Disobedience is not a thing he would accept, you've been taught the painful way. Not just spanking though! Whips, flogs, paddles and other things. Why would he even have these things? Kafka buys it for him. You thought that woman was on your side, but all these time of course she supports your father.

-1/10, staying with him would only get you nonconned everyday getting ass abuse everyday.. Also you might have a 10% chance of dying, increased with how much you make him angry.

Is this even a question

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calaisreno · 3 days

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Let Me Have This

1554 words / Prompt: Do-Over

She’s determined to take it all away from him. Every damn thing. All the little things.

He wonders why he didn’t notice it happening. The little smirks when she reads his blog. The comments when he mentions Sherlock, insignificant but biting. It’s been systematic, and he’s let it happen.

None of it seemed worth arguing about. When he met her, he’d already mourned and tried so many times to put it away, to think of it as something that he would endure. Something terrible, but that’s how life is, the good and the bad, and you still have to go on living. He survived.

So he hadn’t argued; that would have taken too much energy, and he never had enough of that in those days.

She’d been wonderful, really, at the beginning. She’d gone to the grave with him, stood by him, let him mourn. She’d been patient, lovingly patient, urging him back into life.

“Are you never going to eat Thai food again?” she would ask.

Or: “Why do you keep this old jumper with the burn holes? It’s unwearable.”

Or: “We don’t need to take the newspaper. You can read it online.”

And gradually, she had replaced every damn thing with a new thing. New jumpers, Korean food. A different brand of tea. Romantic films. Different news programs.

Even his old, stained mug. “It was chipped,” she said.

None of it was unreasonable, taken as individual actions. But all together it made his old life seem flawed, as if he hadn’t done anything right until he met her.

He did notice. But he’d thought she was something good in his life, a new beginning, a person who knew what she wanted. It was flattering to be pursued.

Every relationship requires a partner who gives in, who is the more reasonable one, the one who lets things go. He saw that in his parents, his mother headstrong and insistent, his father calm and accepting. Yes, dear.

That was how they were, before. Sherlock led, John followed. Sherlock had strops and broke crockery and said awful things sometimes, and John smoothed it all over. Or when he finally couldn’t, he would have his own strop, tell Sherlock to stop—

You machine.

He hadn’t seen that coming, either. His role was reining Sherlock in, pulling him back from the edge. That’s what he’d thought was happening. As it turns out, he was wrong.

Maybe that’s why he can’t be the one to say, Stop it. Let me have this.

He doesn’t deserve a life now because he didn’t protect Sherlock when it really mattered. He let him go over the edge, fall—

Mary is a do-over. He was punishing himself, and she appeared, offering him a chance at something better. Letting himself be loved, cared for. She’s competent, not nostalgic.

It’s an insidious trap, a carefully laid one. Where she could have let him mourn, let him remember who he was when he loved Sherlock— she has tried to reshape all his memories. Sherlock was a child, she seems to say; you were a fool to make yourself responsible for him. He had you under his thumb because he really was a sociopath. He didn’t care about you. He didn’t love you. I’m the best thing that could have happened to you.

And now, she’s taken the last thing.

I like him. She said that in the cab, coming home. Home, to the flat she picked out and decorated, where there isn’t even one tiny piece of John Watson.

She’d seen his anger, his grief. She’d been outraged, on his behalf. Do you have any idea what you’ve done to him? His anger was right. She’d affirmed it.

But afterwards she smiled like the cat who got the cream. As if it had all gone according to plan. She likes Sherlock. She’s going to talk him around. And once again, John will be the unreasonable one.

And he sees how it will go. She’ll take credit for bringing them back together. It will be the three of them now. And of the two of them, Sherlock will find Mary the more interesting one, the one who really gets him. They will bond, and John will be the one they joke about. The third wheel. Poor John. He can see her tagging along on cases, texting Sherlock, giggling with him about private jokes.

She’ll let him have Sherlock, as long as it’s clear that she owns John now.

Let me have this.

If he wants it, he’s going to have to take it back. He’s going to have to say no to Mary, if he wants Sherlock back. He’s still angry, but now that he sees what’s happening, he can’t unsee it. He’ll never be happy in the life she’s prepared for him, free from all the clutter and disarray of life with Sherlock. She’ll keep him in their tidy flat and let him out to go play with Sherlock. And if he ever starts to crave that life again, she’ll find a way to separate him from it.

It’s after midnight and he’s standing outside of 221B. He’s already mentally rehearsed several versions of an apology when his phone buzzes.

Are you coming up? SH

He smiles.

Oscillation on the pavement. An affaire de coeur? SH

Sherlock still signs his texts, and this is oddly comforting. At least something hasn’t changed.

Climbing the stairs, he thinks about the last time he went out and closed the door behind him, never to return. He’s been back once to see Mrs Hudson, but never up these stairs.

The door is open, and he stands on the threshold, taking in everything that two years haven’t changed. The flat looks just as it did on the last day he stood here. It’s like time travel.

But he’s still Future John, the one who grieved, who hit his best friend when he returned as John had begged him to do. The one with regrets.

And Sherlock is different too. He stands at the window, looking down at the street as if he’s expecting someone. His posture is taut, careful.

“I hope… I’m not intruding.”

Sherlock turns and faces him. The split lip has healed, but there is caution in those grey eyes. John never wants to see that look again, not directed at him.

“Come in, John.”

He does, glancing at his old chair, then staring at his own feet, words having deserted him. Sherlock gestures for him to sit, but he feels like a guest in what used to be his home, and it’s painful. He remains standing.

“Something is wrong,” Sherlock says. “You’ve quarrelled with Mary.”

“No.” He closes his eyes. “She’s fine. It’s me. I’ve made a mistake.”

Sherlock steps closer, cocking his head and silently deducing him. “A mistake?”

I’ve proposed to a woman I don’t know because I couldn’t go on without you. I hit my best friend because I couldn’t bear…

He looks up at Sherlock, tears filling his eyes. “Can you forgive me?”

The look on Sherlock’s face is surprise. “John, you need not apologise. If there is to be an apology, it should come from me. I should not have approached you as I did.”

“Can we… just…” He sniffs. “Could we pretend that the last few days haven’t happened yet? You’re back, and I’m—”

“You’re asking for… I believe it’s called a do over?”

He laughs through his tears. “Yes, that’s what I want.”

Sherlock smiles. “Where do we begin?”

“Let’s say I’m not at dinner, not proposing to Mary. You’re not wearing a silly fake moustache—”

“You’ve shaved yours off.”

“Yeah, you were right. So. I don’t have a moustache, and I’ve come over to have a look up here, because… I’m about to take a step that feels irrevocable, one I wouldn’t be taking if you were alive.”

Now Sherlock looks puzzled, but he doesn’t speak.

“My therapist has been bugging me to say something… to you. Something I wished I’d said… before. And I couldn’t say after. But I need to say now.”

Lips parted, Sherlock is frowning. “Say… what?”

He closes his eyes. “You were the best. The best person I’ve known. The best friend. You saved my life, gave meaning to what was left of it. And I… I love you. I don’t care that you were married to your work, or that you despise sentiment. I love you, and I wish I’d said it before.”

Laying a hand on Sherlock’s heart, he feels it beating, alive. “I want to come back. Come home. Live with you.”

“But… Mary?”

“A mistake. And you’ve just given me the impossible. The thing I asked for. Please, will you forgive me?”

Sherlock is silent. He stares over John’s shoulder, blinking as if that genius brain has gone offline.

“Sherlock?”

The pale eyes focus on him. “You want to come home? Here? You love me?”

“Yes. I know you don’t—”

“Just to be clear, when you say love —”

John puts his arms around him. “This.”

As he looks up, expecting to see Sherlock frowning, the most extraordinary thing happens.

There are tears in Sherlock’s eyes, and he’s about to—

When the kiss ends, Sherlock holds him pressed against his chest. “Just to be clear,” he says. “I love you too.”

Posted on AO3 here.

#mayprompts2024 #Do-over

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rendy-a · 3 days

Note

Sorry, househusband Headcanons with Silver 👉👈✨💕(sorry the first questiom accidentally sent incomplete ) 👍

Ha ha ha. That first request would have been enough. Househusband Silver? Say no more. I'm with you there!

You have to keep an eye on him when he does chores to watch out for advice he picked up from your father-in-law. Lilia passed on some of the strangest housekeeping habits to Silver and you never know when they’ll pop up. You remember the winter that both of you were sick at the same time and Silver made an actual bathtub full of soup because that was the correct amount advised by Father.

You do all the cooking prep together. It’s not that you don’t like Silver’s cooking (even he knows to avoid using Lilia’s recipes), it’s just that you worry too much about his safety in the kitchen. There have been some close calls where Silver has fallen asleep with a hot stove on or holding a knife. Now, you have little dinner-prep dates to cook up meals for the week. Each finished dish is one your spouse can finish off in the microwave or by setting a timer on a kitchen appliance. It’s not foolproof but you certainly worry less. Seeing Silver in an apron is just an added bonus!

You never thought you’d say this, but small forest animals are your back-up plan. It’s like nature itself has decided to help your husband escape danger and accomplish his goals. You’ve literally seen mice help him sew up a rip in your clothes and a deer pull your sleeping spouse out of the street. You are grateful that Silver is so beloved by the animals, or you don’t know how you’d bare to leave him home without you!

You were sitting at your desk hard at work when suddenly a chill runs down your spine. You look at the clock, there are three more hours of work left in the day. You frown and decide to quickly check your phone messages, just in case. When you pull the device out and look, your heart drops when you see the message, [Father is here for a visit.] Oh dear, your famous Father-in-law is alone with your spouse, and you can’t do anything about it.

You quietly take your phone and sneak away to the parking lot for a quick call. It rings several times with no answer. You hang up and try again. This time, you get a sleepy, “Hello,” at the fourth ring. You smile at the sound, picturing your spouse just awoken from a short sleeping spell. “Hi dearest, I got your message. How are things going?” There is the smallest hint of a smile in the tone that replies, though you know he is stoic as ever on the other side. “Father is helping me clean out the attic. It’s going along well. We’ve got everything moved out and into our living room now.” You look out into the distance. All the dusty things hidden away in the attic are now all over your clean living room. Well, it could be worse.

You force an extra amount of cheer into your voice, “That’s great honey, and you are keeping an eye on him? Making sure he…doesn’t work too hard?” Silver assures you that he only fell asleep for a moment, but that Lilia was back where he expected him to be. You feel a sense of dread, “Silver, it is nearly lunch time. He hasn’t been cooking, has he? Did you check?” There is a long pause before Silver mutters, “I better go.” You wish him the best of luck and disconnect. Then, you gaze at your phone for a moment before dialing the nearest pizza delivery place. Better safe than sorry.

A few hours later, you sneak away to the restroom to text your spouse. [How are things?] You wait quietly in the stall until you get a reply. [Do you think we need to put a bedroom in the attic?] You look at your phone in surprise, this conversation is already veering wildly from what you anticipated. [Why would we do that?] You see the dots appear and wait for your hubby’s text. [In case we need to use the spare room for a nursery.] You sigh and roll your eyes, Lilia again. [We can talk about it when I get home. Agree to nothing!!!]

After work, your thoughts turn immediately to your spouse, and you head straight home. You see your house come into view and your sleepy husband is waiting for you at the door with his eyes shut. You climb the stairs and give him a sweet kiss. His eyes flutter open and he smiles at you, “I had a wonderful dream and now here you are.” You brush a strand of his silver hair from his forehead, “Which was better?” He looks at you with seriousness and replies, “You. You are always better.” You turn your head to the side, feeling the heat in your cheeks.

“Ahem,” you clear your throat, “So where is our precious Father?” Silver drops back until he is only holding your hand, “He left. He said we needed time alone to work on his grandchildren.” You laugh and think that sounds very much like your spirited Father-in-Law. You rub your thumb along the fingers holding your hand, “Well, since he is gone, I suppose its safe to ask about your day. How did the attic cleaning project go?” Silver calmly assures you that things went just fine. Nearby, a squirrel looks up and meets your eye before giving you the most traumatized shake of its little head. “I’m glad everything worked out,” you say as you make eyes that say ‘I’m sorry’ to the neighborhood wildlife. You didn’t know what trouble he’d been involved in, but you knew some evil had been conquered today. You squeeze Silver’s hand and that prompts him to lift you into his arms and carry you over the threshold. It wasn’t happily ever after, but for today, it was enough of a happy ending for you and your prince charming.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst silver #silver x reader #househusband au

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g1rld1ary · 19 hours

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lifeguard!james x reader

cw: reader is HORNY sorry guys (i'm on my period I can't be held accountable), swearing, excessive sexual innuendos, implied fem!reader but no pronouns I think

wc: 1055

you'd always been a strong swimmer, but merlin maybe you'd be ok with water in your lungs if the new lifeguard would put his mouth on yours to get it out. lily snorted when you voiced that thought, but you weren't going to apologise.

the new lifeguard was hot, and you were pretty sure it wasn't part-of-the-job-description-hot (though the swim shorts and seat up in the lifeguard's tower was certainly helping), he literally looked like a greek god, brown skin and dark inky curls that you wanted desperately to tug on. suddenly it wasn't just the pool that was wet...

the public pool was your staple with the girls, it had been since you were kids. it was pretty much the only way to stay cool in your shitty town, and the summers only seemed to get hotter as you got older. you'd never seen this boy before though, and you probably wouldn't be surprised if he'd literally descended down from heaven.

you tried to tune into their gossip, reaching for another ice lolly from the ice box, grinning when you got your favourite flavour. you nodded at whatever mary was saying about the party sirius was throwing in a few weeks; she had a new slinky dress she was dying to wear but was weighing up whether there were going to be enough fit boys there for it to be worth wearing. gazing across the pool distractedly, you happened to catch the lifeguard's eye, rolling your eyes when he sent you a cheeky wink. so he knows he's hot you thought, shifting your weight in the beach chair.

you weren't going to give him the satisfaction of openly ogling him, sliding the oversized sunglasses down your face until he couldn't see your eyes, contributing your thoughts on mary's plight.

when you caught the lifeguard stealing glances at you you couldn't help your delight, satisfied it wasn't a one-way attraction. plus, it was summer, you could afford to have some fun. you sucked on your ice lolly, loving the way his eyes kept darting back between you and the swimmers he was supposed to be watching. when you were sure you had his attention you let the treat sit on your lips, accidentally letting a few droplets of syrup roll down your chin, continuing their journey down your chest and beneath your bikini top.

at the boy's bright red flush you couldn't contain a smirk, loving the way it contrasted with his deep tan. by now your friends had caught on to your little show, all giggling as they watched teenage sexual frustration in action.

"you are such a slag," marlene scoffed, but you could see her amused smile behind it. you just shrugged, continuing to command the boy's attention with the popsicle. none of the boys you knew were half decent compared to the mysterious new lifeguard, why shouldn't you give him a proper welcome to town?

the fuss had died down after a while, all four of you quietening down as you tanned. you were almost drifting off into a sun-induced sleep when an unfamiliar voice spoke from near the pool.

"are all the girls around here this fit, or did I just get lucky?" you cracked one eye open to see the lifeguard standing between your four deck chairs, but his eyes were locked on yours. a glance to your right showed the rest of your friends sitting up to greet him, giggling in the way you all knew was because he was totally fit.

"does that usually work?" lily asked and you snorted a laugh, lying back down to continue your tan (and maybe so he got a good view of your underboob).

"it's never hurt," the boy said, surprisingly good-natured.

"where did you come from?" mary redirected, and you listened with interest despite your appearance.

"i'm from up north. my family just moved here and I already had the qualification, so I figured it wouldn't be a bad way to spend the summer while I had no friends." your friends made a noise at that, asking more questions about him. you were surprised at his seemingly honest friendliness, most of the guys you knew would rather die than come off dorky and friendless, but when it was this boy it seemed endearing.

"i'm james, by the way," he said, and the girls all introduced themselves as you remained silent, content to listen and lay in the sun.

as late afternoon sun began to run low you started to pack your things, dazed and content from your sunbathing. you made quiet conversation with lily about dinner plans, pulling up your denim cutoffs around your hips.

james caught up to your group as you were leaving the public pool.

"it was nice meeting you girls today, will I see you around more often this summer?" mary answered for the lot of you, confirming you visited more often than not on hot days.

"shit else to do," you added with a small laugh.

"i didn't catch your name?" james replied, leaning against the wire fence, giving you ample opportunity to admire the way his bicep flexed under his weight. were your knees weak or did you have sunstroke?

"i didn't throw it." a smile played on your lips, and your periphery caught lily turning to leave, knowing your game too well. james looked genuinely shocked for a fleeting moment, then covered it with a playful groan, miming a knife twisting in his stomach.

"you wound me!" he cried, "i burn, i pine, i perish!"

"alright there, shakespeare," you laughed, somewhat put off by the reference, but not deterred -- you could do brains, "you heard mary, you'll see me around. guess you'll just have to earn it." james brightened at that, the thought of a challenge evidently exciting him.

"oh sweetheart, just wait till you're riding my surfboard."

"that was horrendous," you said, fighting embarrassingly hard to keep from smiling.

"oh come on," he grinned, running a hand through his mop of curls, "not worthy of your name?"

"not a chance in hell." you gave him one last look over -- something he was positively delighted about -- before turning on your heel to catch up with your friends, brushing off their teasing as you thought of the hot new lifeguard you'd be visiting the pool for.

ok im lowkey obsessed with lifeguard!james rn so if u have any requests please send them over bc I would love to write more for him

#giasfics˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀#love #fluff #james potter #james potter x y/n #the marauders #marauders #marauders era #hp marauders #dead gay wizards #james potter fluff #james potter x you #james potter x reader #james potter imagine #lifeguard!james #lifeguard james

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a-kiwi-fruit · 2 days

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König is strange.

(Kidnapping, using woman, könig is a fucking creep, abuse, mentions of sex, könig x fem! Reader, könig x petite! Reader)

Chapter. 1

König would be single for awhile, he only had one night stands because he acts like a gentleman, pays for drinks ect. He learned how to pick out the girls with daddy issues and play to them. He never found any of them worthy of being in an actual relationship with though. Too independent or too insecure, or not high enough libido. He's a big guy with a bigger dick, what did you expect? He'd be vanilla?

He never thought he'd be in a relationship. He thought he would live a quiet life, retire when he's 65 and have a dog or cat to keep him company. Most likely a cat. Dogs are a lot of work and he won't want to walk the dirty mutt every day just for it to roll in a like of shit.

He's finished with his paperwork and in his office, it's very minimalistic, a picture of his mom and him on new years. His momma's the only woman he will ever tollarate for more than a week or two. He can't stand when a woman pines for his attention, he will stick his dick in her if she's that needy, who is he to give up free stress realise? Usually breaks up with her right after Cumming in the condom. Though he has rules and morals. 1:He's never hit a woman, never hurt a woman physically and 2: never. Ever. Did anything without clear consent. The last rule? And the one he's vowed since he joined the army? Never date anyone in his team. Didn't matter if they were medical or a recruit, he was never going to put his job in danger.

Until now.

The medical wing is usually filled with hard, mean old ladies who hand him the papers but when he hears a soft knock at his door and the cutest little thing walks in his heart stops. He never seen you before. A cute, quant little thing like you. He sees your Small waist and even smaller statue. Tiny hands he could easily engulf in his own, and he does as he takes the report from your hands.. He also sees a bruise? A nasty hand print clearly put there from someone who didn't care about you.

His eyes narrow as he sees the big handprint on your wrist for the spit second he could see it. Too big to be your own. He looks up to see your nervous face that your desperately trying to hide with a small smile and those beautiful eyes.. He could stare and get lost in them for centuries, analyzing every little fraction of them like mountains that need exploring. He wanted to see all of your emotions Portrayed in those beautiful things.

It all happened to quick. You walking in. You handing him the papers before you take a step back and clear your throat. No song could ever compare to the voice he is about to hear.

"There are the reports for this week sir, there organized by date" you speak, unknowingly giving your colonel jerk off material for the next week over. He never thought a voice could turn him on so much until he felt his pants become painfully tight. Thank god for the closed off desk he was behind and your short statue

"Ja, thank you..?" He skillfully asks your name. Hopeing to make you forget it later because the only thing in that sweet mouth of yours will be his cock, cum and his name.

"Everyone calls me angel" you reply, more nervous because you don't know how your colonel will respond being told a nickname instead of your actual name, truthfully you don't like your name but maybe you shouldn't have told him a nickname, that's so unprofessional! Fuck. You fucked up didn't you? You prepare yourself to get an angry tone or get laughed at but könig just leans back, not too far though because unbeknownst to you he's hiding a monstrous erection.

"Angel.." He puts in a more flirty tone than he means to say. "I like it." his Australian accent shows through and you swallow down your nerves because he makes himself more friendly despite being behind a mask

"Y-yeah" in your thoughts you curse yourself out for being so nervous and studdery. That's why your boyfriend punished you.

"Every person I tend to ends up making a full recovery, people say I'm an angel when it's really beginners luck.." you speak honestly and all that honesty goes right to his dick, making his heart flutter.

"And how long have you been here angel~?" he replies, pulling the cap off his pen to sign the report.

You hate how your cheeks flush at the sight of his hand, 2 prominent blue vains popping out against his thick, corse skin. Thicker fingers holding the small pen tightly, fingers so thick they could stretch you out a lot more than your own. Just imagining his big hand finger fucking you with one or is he's generous two of the meaty things in your tight heat has your body clenching around nothing. You snap yourself out of it immediately after your knees almost buckle, you have a boyfriend who will kill you if he finds our your thinking about any man other than him. He's threatened too before. He's tried to before. Suddenly the makeup you used on your neck to hide the painful black and blue handprint is itchy, afraid to scratch off the basically caked on conseler and show your colonel that your hurt. Then your boyfriend will get in trouble and he.. You don't even want to think about it as you squeeze your hand as to refrain from scratching. Only snapping out of your trance when könig pits his pen down and looks at you expecting something.

Shit! You forgot to answer! Stupid stupid angel, making a fool out of yourself in front if everyone! "Sorry, about a month? Started the 26th of March, so a month in 3 days." you smile, praying to God he doesn't see the panic in your eyes. Or the nasty hand marks on your neck that you tried to cover up.

"Love, who did that to you?" He asks calmly. In a stern and powerful voice.

(Idk if I'll finish it, or if anyone even wants to see the end😭)

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trashmouth-richie · 16 hours

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𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐱: 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: eddie stays until clove’s shift is over at the club despite her best efforts to get him to leave. jolene expresses her concerns, an old acquaintance reintroduces himself with eddie. a piece of the past is revealed.

𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ stripping, drug use/abuse, alcoholism, addiction, abusive relationships, prostitution.

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ no minors, depictions of poverty, child neglect/ endangerment, drug use/abuse, alcohol use/abuse, endangerment, 18+ sex working, 18+stripping, violence, smut.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: 6.8k and a rewrite 🫣; we are finally getting somewhere in this story and i am sorry it took so long to pass these awkward tense filled chapters! 😓 im really happy with the way this chapter turned out and i hope you enjoy it too.

A smile twists on your lips, and you can’t hide the funny tingling shift of your eyebrows as you test the numbness in your face. You felt as if the world was spinning with colors of orangey yellows and blushing pink.

“Slick…come. on.”

The sky moved above you in gentle waves, pulsing and vibrating. The tangle of tall grass around you felt like shaved butter beneath the pads of your fingers. A giggle bursts from your lips and you stretch your arms out, feeling the creamy splats of the chickweed on your elbows. You imagined that you were a piece of toast, becoming soft by a pat of butter and a smear of jelly.

Would you be flavored as Grape? Choke Cherry? Definitely Mulberry, you’d decided after moving your tongue against the dry membrane of your cheeks… willing for a drop of saliva to coat it, tasting the jam on it with every swirl.

“You’ve got to be shitting me!”

You look up, a drunken haze on your stoned eyes. Lids felt heavier with every blink upward towards the tendrils of caramel swaying above. A concerned look is painted on Eddie’s face and you couldn’t for the life of you understand why.

Sweat formed beneath his bangs, his temples dripping wet. He wanted to shout and scream as your finger reached up to poke him on the nose, a raspberried boop bubbles from your lips and a fit of laughter follows.

He was pissed when he finally found you at the party. Even more upset that the sweet freshman, Barbara, had distracted him by asking about the Chemistry test, trying to compare answers to see if she had gotten the questions right.

In that amount of time you had disappeared in the crowd of sweaty bodies, nowhere to be seen. He settled into an immediate panic. Crippling anxiety crawling up his spine.

This party was a bad idea, he should have never taken you here, but your puppy dog eyes never failed to make him cave. You were always good at that.

The rickety farmhouse now used for high school kids to drink beer and smoke weed was abandoned long ago. Paint had chipped from the wooden slat siding, the wallpaper was ripped to shreds in every room, graffitied over. Rumor had it, the class of ‘79 threw orgies in the basement.

He searched every face around the flames of the bonfire for you, called your name into the lonesome woods— but you were nowhere, and when he asked people if they had seen you, nobody knew who you were. He was scared, terrified— after what happened the last time you went missing at a party— he swore it wouldn’t happen again. His eye was still discolored from that fight.

An hour had ticked by then an hour and a half, and he felt full fledged crazy when he started searching in parked cars.

The sweet smell of weed hit him as he walked past a pickup he hadn’t recognized. The tailgate was laid down with a blanket laying across it in a rumpled mess. And he almost missed it.

Almost turned to leave when he spotted a hand, laying limp from beneath the flannel threads— and his stomach fell at the sight of a homemade tattoo sketched in the same spot as his, opposite hands.

He planned on leaving. Not wanting to see the way your life had trainwrecked out of control and off the rails. But his heart ached for the girl he knew, the one he once left behind.

Eddie planted himself on that barstool like he was a permanent fixture. Keeping quietly to himself. Politely telling the bartender he was fine with the water and cold basket of wings that sat untouched.

His stomach was uneasy, sick with worry about the truth he spilled and your reaction to it all, acting as if it had never happened—turning something serious into a party. Maybe that was easiest for you? Turning a blind eye to the truth.

Tonight, Eddie would stay for you, ensuring you got home safely. Something he should have done years ago but couldn’t.

▫️▪️▫️▪️

You were floating on a warm and buzzing kind of high, drunk on the cheap liquor and pills you consumed tossing them back like a child would candy.

Reckless was an understatement for the mask you wore tonight. The armor shield you bared to protect yourself from getting hurt was heavy, but you never let it slip from your shoulders.

Overly friendly, flirting with the regulars, the out of towners. Anyone with a swinging dick was game. The college guys who you would normally rather drop dead than spend any amount of time talking to— suddenly were the most interesting males you’d ever laid eyes on.

You laughed at their stupid jokes, pinched their cheeks and kissed their necks as you ground your hips into their laps. Their grabby hands roamed over your body freely and you never swatted them away.

You accepted singles in your g-string like a eucharist in a catholic church. Their warm breath on your neck and shoulders held whimpers and groans as you moved above their laps to the music, or ran your tongue along their ear.

Giving away bits of yourself you didn’t care about, a lazy smile on your lips as your eyes closed and your head swayed along with your hips to the sultry music that played for Wendy’s set.

They all wore the same face, their voices were different but their soulless expressions spoke to the tiny crumb you kept hidden away that you still carried around, singing to you like a prayer of hope.

The only thing you couldn’t do was look any of them straight in the eyes. It didn’t matter who they were, their eyes were always the same: doe like, a stain of muddy brown and surrounded with dark lashes. Eddie.

The conversation you had with him burned like a fiery wind in your chest, and you did the usual to extinguish the flames. But the sad bourbon eyes parked at the bar ignited it every time you caught them in a stare over a suit jacket shoulder, making you turn away with something stronger than guilt.

Tipping back shots of god knows what, you fell deeper and deeper into the pit of numbness, until you fully succumbed to it, shutting out everything around you, disassociating to another time.

Watching the swing of a chain bounce from left to right, your fingertips felt like lead as they dangled. Grass was on the ceiling being stamped down to the soil beneath large footsteps. A pair of black legs moved as you swung like a wind chime in a summer breeze. The skinny legged creature holding you was murmuring under its breath. It took you much too long to realize you were being carried and the thing holding you was Eddie.

Your face was level with his lower back, the black shirt he was wearing rode up enough to leave a sliver of navy checkered boxers hanging out. The pattern looked funny, like tic-tac-toe. The words forming on the tip of your tongues mind, tickling the muscle as you make up rhymes.

“linch-lactose, ditz-duck-toast, yic-yac- yo, pinch-punch post!”

Your fingers squeeze the band of his boxers and pull it way out, revealing the whitest ass you’d ever seen and you gasp in surprise as if your incoherent mind forgot what would be clothed beneath, letting the fabric snap back into place. Warranting an irritated yelp from Eddie that has you tipping upwards and upwards until you are falling downwards and downwards behind him.

Now you were wading on your back in a soft batter of cake, and Eddie swore under his breath.

“Up, get up.”

You shake your head at him, moving your fingers to try to make his frown tick up. “I’m having fun, you should try it sometime.”

He huffs in annoyance, “fun? You call running away from me at a party with some West Academy fuckheads fun?”

You blow a raspberry with your lips, tossing your body over to your front then your back again and again until you’ve rolled a few feet away from him further into the deep grass.

“Seriously?” Eddie groans in frustration following you crossing his arms once he faded into your peripherals, “quit acting like a little kid!”

Eddie never got mad at you. At his dad, the way you grew up, school… but not you.

You frown back at him, eyebrows curling inward, “what’s up your ass Munson?”

His eyes cloud with something you can’t recognize, not in your current state of mind at least.

“Nothing, let’s—can we go? I’m fucking exhausted, and you’re pissing me off.”

“Oh…” you sing, leaning up on your elbows, scowling, “I get it now, you can get high with Byers’ whenever you feel like it, but when I do it without you— it’s suddenly a problem.”

He doesn’t say a word, only sighing deep and running his hands through his hair til they snag on his neck, bangs shoved aside.

“You’re a real bastard y'know? A hypocritical, fuckass!”

“Me?!” he shouts, flabbergasted, “It’s been what? Three weeks since I punched Hagan until his mouth bled for what he tried to do to you… and now you’re just going around putting yourself in the same situation Clove! It’s stupid, you are being stupid! You’re just asking for something bad to happen, like you’re looking for it!”

It wasn’t easy to forget that night, the tears that slid down your face, the taste of blood and gravel in your mouth, or the rip in your clothes from being pushed down.

You spent nights lying awake, wondering what could have happened if Eddie wouldn’t have shown up when he did. White knuckling your blankets, you stayed that way until the sun shone through the ripped tinfoil on your window. The only reprieve you could find was altering your mind for an hour or two.

Looking for that tiny bit of relief, you jumped when the opportunity to let loose came up, hungry for the numbness to settle, for your mind to ease.

After all— you were just having fun. What’s the worst that could happen?

Lights flashed in every neon color imaginable as the night drug on. He was torturing himself watching you become clumsier, spilling drinks, and nearly tripping over your own two feet.

The clink of the beads from the back room made his stomach turn as they moved like clockwork, girls went in every thirty minutes and out almost at the exact second it was up.

Shots of a bubbly pink liquid floated around in your hands as you brought them to a table of younger guys. Squealing as one of them pulled you into their lap, shoving his face into your chest as you giggled and swatted at him playfully.

Eddie wanted to puke. Wanted to throw his knuckles into that guy's stomach until he gasped for air. As much as he wanted to give in to his urges and bust the teeth out from that guy's mouth, he didn’t. Not wanting to embarrass you by being overly protective. He didn’t have that right anymore.

So he sat back and simply watched with a sinking heart, swirling the bottle of a now warm beer in his hand. Waiting.

Waiting for what— he wasn’t quite sure. Maybe you would sober up and he could take you to get some food at an all night diner? The two of you could laugh about old times, and you’d get to know one another again, in better circumstances.

He held onto that thought as his knee bounced watching you go from lap to lap at that table of college boys, a smile pressed to your lips that didn’t meet your eyes. Your pupils were so large he could see them from where he sat, inky blacks taking over where your natural color pooled.

“Hey there handsome, gin and tonic?”

Eddie swirled to face the bar at the bartender’s voice, thinking she was speaking to him. Her eyes didn’t fall to him, they were focused on a guy leaning his elbow across the counter, a gaudy red jacket flanking his shoulders.

Slitting his own eyes into narrow strips, he recognized him immediately. Still too many freckles pocking across his face. Hair cut short on the sides, slicked back with stiff gel. A cocky smirk on his face as he eyed Eddie, puffing out his chest like an alpha male. Tommy Hagan.

The heels of your palms press into your eyes, creating shapes behind your eyelids as the tears slid out rolling down the apples of your cheeks, your head laying softly against the ground.

Eddie nearly broke when your chin quivered, your lips shaking as your lungs raked in a choked breath. He didn’t want to hurt your feelings, never wanted to be someone who made you cry.

He kneeled down next to you, reaching for your wrists to peel your hands from your eyes. You finally let him, but kept your eyes shut tight.

“C’mere,” he whispered, wrapping his arms under yours and hauling you up with him to stand.

Your tears wet his hands from where he held your face, wiping them as they fell. “Don’t shut me out,” he pleaded, worry spreading across his face, “you can tell me anything.”

Shaking your head you tried to pull yourself away from him. “It won’t go away, Eddie,” you sobbed.

You could hear his tantalizing words in your ear just like that night. Still feel his hands under your shirt, and when you pushed him away, running from him, Tommy had caught up to your drunken strides and shoved you onto the gravel, pinning you there.

“I’m tired of crying, I’m tired of being stared at… I wanted one damn night of not remembering, of feeling normal again!”

His arms squeeze around you like a vice, and you cry into the column of his throat, your tears coating the split ends of his hair.

Eddie murmurs your name as he runs his fingers down your back in a soothing pattern. Letting you cry it out. His heart shattering right along with yours.

He didn’t let go of you until your tears fell a little more silently, your sniffles scarce.

“I have a surprise for you.”

His dark eyes were wild. Wide in psychotic amusement at the scene in front of him. “Physics proves me wrong again,” Tommy sneered, “they really can stack shit six foot high.”

Eddie shifts away from him, searching the bar for you. But Tommy doesn’t let up.

Waltzing towards Eddie, Tommy’s stocky build and red jacket made him look like something from a cereal box. “Ah, man, cmon,” he chides, leaning an elbow beside Eddie’s arm, “‘m only playin’ round.”

“What do you want, Hagan?”

“Now Eddie… is that anyway to treat an old friend?”

He was trying to bait Eddie, get him to swing on him maybe, finish the fight that started years ago. But Eddie wouldn’t budge, ignoring him completely.

Tommy runs his tongue along his teeth, “I have to wonder just how Rick would react to finding out that The runaway Munson bastard was sitting in his club, staring at his girl.”

Eddie almost choked on the breath he took, but he managed to keep his face calm even though he was breaking apart on the inside.

“She didn’t tell you?” Tommy feigns surprise, “She’s been his whore since your old man started selling dope. Don’t worry though—Rick is pretty generous, he’ll let you fuck her in the private rooms for the right price.”

Eddie swallows thickly, holding back vomit.

Tommy leans in close, his cheap cologne stinging Eddie’s nose, “pricey, but trust me…that pussy is worth it.”

Eddie’s fingers curl into tight fists.

“Oh and before I forget, Rick will be happy to know you’re back in town. Your old man still had some business to take care of before he vanished like a fart in the windp, and Rick is looking to collect.”

He watched Tommy leave. Striding up to one of the girls and squeezing her ass before laying a sloppy kiss on her lips.

Dread filled his soul like a sandbag, weighing him down until he could barely move, hardly digesting what Tommy had said before Rocket Queen started blaring from the speakers.

The crowd whooped and hollered for the girl on the pole, catcalls and wolf whistles, meaty hands slapping the stage with singles.

The table you were sitting at now sat empty, and you weren’t anywhere around, the bartender screamed your name and he knew before he even looked that you were the one on stage.

“The treehouse?”

“The treehouse.”

What felt like a ten mile walk in your inebriation was barely even one as you followed behind Eddie. Your finger laced into one of his belt loops guiding you along with your eyes half open.

“When you mentioned having a sleepover, Slim— I thought it would be in one of our rooms, with blankets, a pillow maybe.”

It was a goldmine when you stumbled across it all those years ago. Deep in the woods behind Forest Hills, you couldn’t believe it was still standing.

He smiled and brushed hair from his neck, “ What’s wrong? Clovie wovie a wittle afraid of a dirt and some bird shit?”

You shove his shoulder and make a disgusted face, “mostly afraid of getting Hepatitis.”

“Relax,” he said, putting a foot on the first wooden rung, nailed to the tree trunk, “I was here last week and cleaned it out.”

He climbs the makeshift ladder with ease, all fluid motion like an ape at the zoo.

“There’s no way in hell I’m gonna be able to do this.”

Eddie gets to the stop and pokes his head down, “it’s not that high up.”

“Yeah but I am.”

Eddie rolls his dark eight ball eyes and lays on his stomach across the floor of the treehouse, partly dangling over the edge to reach for your hands. “Put your foot there, no— that one.”

It took longer than it should have but with great effort from Eddie and as much concentration as you could manage, you’d finally made it to the top, laying flat on your back huffing like you’d ran a marathon.

“Well, that was easy.”

Eddie glares at you with a sweaty brow, “yeah, you really aced it Slick.”

You raise a middle finger and he sends one back making you both laugh. “I’m gonna hire you to clean my house, it’s pretty nice up here.”

The floor was swept and a round rag rug laid in the center. A tarp covered the ceiling where rain always snuck through the roof.

“Yeah, yeah, figured this place shouldn’t go to waste just because we don’t use it anymore. Maybe Lolly could play up here with her friends.”

Eddie bends down to lift the lid to a large wooden box you don’t remember being there before. He hauls out a large sleeping bag, a folded quilt, and a flashlight.

Placing the flashlight under his chin to illuminate his face in creepy shadows, Eddie throws his voice into a creepy cackle, “know any good ghost stories?”

The room spun as you hung upside down from your ankles crossed against the pole. It was a blur, a blackening clouded storm piercing your barely conscious mind. Years of dancing on this stage, you could practically do it in your sleep.

When you seductively lowered your bra straps and revealed yourself, the men went crazy. Everybody loved the devil, and right now you could use a better disguise to mask the pain from Eddie’s spilled truths earlier.

Eddie. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

The more you tried to suffocate his name in your mind, soul, body, he remained. Always.

You hadn’t spoken to him since earlier when the bar was empty except for the two of you and seven year old secrets. His eyes burned into your skin whenever you saw him, and you wondered how far you’d have to go before he decided to leave again for good.

The answer you asked for left you feeling like you swallowed a Buick. It tasted wrong on your tongue like burnt iron, and it was too much to chew.

Throwing yourself on men’s laps like the true whore you’d grown into, you felt his stare on you all night, and no matter what you were doing, how loud you laughed or danced for dollars—Eddie stayed.

It should have charmed you, should have given you a little joy to know that despite your job, despite everything you’d been through with and without him, he wanted to be here. But those days had come and gone, and now the only thing you felt was burning rage.

Back in high school he would get so hurt when you’d show back up at the party having already smoked with someone else. You never forgot the way his eyes looked as you laid in the grass. Disappointment. The thing you couldn’t recognize in them at that time.

And disappointment was what you needed to find in his eyes tonight. But as you looked towards the bar where you knew he was sitting, the dark coal of his eyes weren’t looking at you at all. His head was lowered, picking at his nails.

The song played on, and the finale was coming up where you laid across the floor amongst the filthy cash and pretended like the moans from the woman in the song were your own, and that every guy in the bar was making you feel the ecstasy of an orgasm.

You wanted Eddie to be so uncomfortable he wouldn’t want to come back. He needed to hurt the way you had. He could have come back, Eddie knew you’d never leave Hawkins, and he— fuck, he promised that you’d both get out of here.

Maybe it was the drugs and the alcohol that were making you so irrational, but it never crossed your mind, and Eddie’s eyes never lifted to meet yours.

One hand was laid across his chest, your head resting on his right bicep, a bent leg between his. You’d been asleep for a half hour according to his watch, and it’d been twelve minutes of you curled into him the way you were.

Neither of you had any good ghost stories, your real life being scary enough there wasn’t anything to fantasize about being more terrifying than that.

The two of you talked for a long time, whispering stories back and forth, laughing about the shade of Higgin’s face when you had both egged his house on Halloween last year.

Quiet fell over you both and you tucked the blanket under your chin, a small yawn escaping your lips.

“Eddie? You awake?” you whisper.

His chest expands beside you, “yeah, are you?”

“Yeah.. I wanted to tell you—”

The high was gone and you laid stone sober. You needed to thank him for helping you, for never giving up on you when you were beginning to give up on yourself, but it fell flat, carried away on the cool breeze blowing through the treehouse.

“… your butt is really really white.”

Laughter fills the space between, and you and Eddie giggle until tears squeeze from your eyes.

“You’re such a pain in my ass, y’know that?”

Moonlight shines through the open doorway illuminating the smile on his face, it was then that you began to see him differently as if he suddenly became more to you than anyone ever had. But maybe he always was.

Crossing a line you never had before, you lean forward pressing into him your body over his. Your heart raced but not any faster than his was. He was so handsome like this, and right here in this moment you felt as if it was second nature. As if looking at Eddie this way wasn’t new or different.

“You’re my best friend,” you said to him, stroking his cheek, “always and forever.”

You lean forward just enough for your lips to brush against his. The most delicate of kisses like a butterfly wing flapping in the wind.

Before he can say anything or react, you lay your head on the crux of his shoulder, and close your eyes.

When he was certain you were asleep, Eddie’s throat finally untangled and he whispered into your hair before kissing your forehead, “til the end of the world, baby.”

He couldn’t look. Out of respect for you and for your dignity, Eddie wouldn’t watch your set. It made him feel wrong, dirty, as if he were just another sleazy guy hoping to get into your pants.

Last call was hollered out and Eddie finally raised his eyes to see the stage now empty, only catching the shine of your heels walking to the dressing room.

The bar was emptying out, the bartenders had stopped serving. Overhead lights hissed as they illuminated around the bar, much like the club go-ers showing the true coyote ugly before a night of regret could begin.

The black haired bartender smiled big and set a glass of water in front of Eddie. “You okay to drive, sugar?”

Eddie smiles small, sliding his hands down his face, “Yeah, I’m just waiting for a friend, figured she needed a ride home.”

There weren't any other customers left in the club, and the bartender raised an eyebrow, “one of the girls?”

Eddie nods tiredly, taking a sip of his water.

“Yeah, I didn’t tell her that I was waiting, but.. don’t think she’s sober enough to drive.”

Jolene knew the other girls had already left, having had Kenny walk them all out to their vehicles, all but one.

“Clove?” she seemed a little startled, “you’re waiting for her?”

He rubs his hands together, “Yeah.” Her eyes narrow and she leans across the bar, waiting for an explanation on who he is. “I’m Eddie Munson. Slick— Clove, I mean, and I grew up together in Forest Hills.”

“Munson?” her eyebrows nearly cross, “Wayne? Or Al?”

“Al, un…fortunately,” he admitted, twisting his rings around his fingers, “back home for Wayne’s funeral.”

Lightbulbs clicked and Jolene spread a wide smile, “I remember you, Patty my aunt, babysat for Clove’s sister sometimes.”

“No shit? Swear this world gets smaller and smaller.”

Jolene sighs a bit of relief after connecting the dots on just who was waiting for you, a mother hen to her little chicks. “You and her kinda took care of each other back then, right? Looked after one another?”

He shrugged, not really comfortable talking about those times with a complete stranger, “kinda, I mean we really weren’t given a choice.”

Sighing deeply and looking worn out, Jolene shakes her head, “she needs a little of that right now, a lot of it actually.”

Eddie’s eyebrows raise, “choices? Or someone to take care of her?”

Before she can answer him, the dressing room door flies open with a clunk against the wall, likely to leave a hole where the doorknob hit the already crumbling drywall.

The fine powder around your nose was still dusted in a spot you had missed, and your slippers were back on your feet.

Looking from Jolene to Eddie and back again you scoff in annoyance, “what are you still doing here?”

Eddie looks a bit taken back but doesn’t let your hurtful words slice through him the way you had hoped they would.

“Gonna bring you home, make sure you get there, alive.”

Rolling your eyes, you bite a curt goodnight to Jolene and brush past Eddie, hitting him with your purse on the way out as you shuffle for your keys.

Jolene’s face is full of worry and she looks to Eddie with pity in her eyes, “she needs both.” Taking his glass she nods towards the door as you’re part way through it, “she’s been lost ever since she walked into this club…but lately, it’s gotten out of control.”

If his heart could plummet any further it would, but Eddie simply looked to Jolene and gave her a nod of understanding before he stood and jogged to follow you out of the doors.

▫️▪️▫️▪️

Gravel crunched beneath your slippers as you stumbled your way out to your car. The depths of your purse finally revealed the keys they’d been hiding and you pulled them out in a hissy fit, ignoring the calls of your name from the last person you wanted to see right now.

“—wait! Shit why are you walking so fast?” Eddie said pretending to be out of breath.

You nearly fell into the back end of your car as you shot him a glare refusing to answer him. Holding onto the sedan to make your way to the driver’s door, keys out.

“What are you—?” He realizes you’re trying to unlock the door so you could drive yourself home. His sober body being more agile than yours— he quickly finagles them from your fingers and puts them in his back pocket.

“Give them back!”

“No,” he says firmly, “you’re drunk, you’re not gonna kill yourself getting behind that wheel.”

“What are you the cops? A fucking pastor out east.. or west.. or wherever the hell you live at now? I’ve done it a thousand ti—” you groan in frustration when he backs away out of reach.

You reach for him again and again, holding onto his shirt and trying to yank him towards you. Eddie gets free and slams against the driver's door.

“Stop! I’m not letting you drive.”

All fight in you is lost. Instead you flip a switch and turn on the charm, batting your eyelashes like you would at any Sam, Dick or Harry at the club to get a good tip. Swinging your hips, pressing your body against his, your voice lilts into seduction.

“This what you want?” you ask sweetly, a sinister look in your eyes, “why you came home, right?”

Eddie’s lungs weren’t functioning, his mind blank, completely and utterly speechless at the way you were acting. He was repulsed, disgusted with how this night had turned out.

You walk your fingers against his chest, placing a manicured hand under his chin. His skin crawled, feeling the failure, the let down you had experienced seep out of you, because of him.

He was pissed, fuming with rage at the idea that you would think that this is what he wanted? To sexualize his own friend, you!?

You had been used to using your body to your advantage to get what you needed to survive. It had become almost thoughtless as you me body took over.

The alcohol, drugs, the provocative behavior, it was all a tangled web of coping. Of growing to be a product of your environment. Wearing a suit of spades from the same hand you were dealt.

He felt as if he was no better than those pigs in the bar who grabbed ass for freebies. Regret looming over him with each and every second that ticked by.

When your hands started to go south, Eddie’s brain zapped and he grabbed your wrists, halting you from touching him any further than you already had.

He searched into your eyes for a shred, an inkling of the girl he used to know. But came up with nothing but sadness and a glossy high.

“That’s enough.” His voice was firm, startling you into a gasp at his refusal to fall for whatever the hell you were trying to do, “get in the car, Clove… I’m taking you home.”

Rejection stung, but this was worse than that. Throwing yourself at Eddie, trying to make him so uncomfortable that he would leave the bar only for you to try to seduce him so you could drive your own car?

Pathetic. Self sabotage wins again.

Your face falls before you could whip up a response, or continue to argue with him. You didn’t see the way his eyes were wet or the way he was falling apart. Yanking your wrists from his light grasp, you march to the passenger side of the car, mountains of regret pressed heavy into your shoulders, but your face was painted in a false unbothered state.

His back is still turned away as your foot taps impatiently. A loud annoyed sigh from you finally renders Eddie free from the crestfallen place he’d seeped into.

He unlocks the door and gets in, adjusting your seat to accommodate for his longer legs, reaching across the center to pull the lock for you.

▫️▪️▫️▪️

Coming out of the shower you were surprised to see Eddie standing in your kitchen.

“I’m a grown woman… I don’t need you to coddle me.”

His flannel hung on the back of a chair and he wore a plain white shirt underneath, thin enough where you could barely make out more black swells of ink spread across his back.

He had insisted on walking you to your apartment despite you rolling your eyes so hard they could have fallen from your head.

“Heard you throwing up,” he said over his shoulder, flipping something in a pan, and moving to the fridge, bending low to retrieve something from the bottom shelf, “I’ve been with you almost all day and haven’t seen you eat a single thing—so get dressed and sit down while I make us some food, yeah?”

“Eddie,” you groan with thrown around explicits, stomping back to your room. You had thrown up while in the shower, entirely liquid your stomach purged itself until you were gasping for breath.

You grumbled as you fought your way into an oversized shirt and a pair of shorts. Foregoing the trouble of drying off properly, you throw open your door and smell the sweet scent of cinnamon.

“Y’know you don't have anything in your cupboards, right?” Eddie called from the kitchen.

Your head and your heart were fighting each other on how you felt about him here in your apartment. And you threw all rational thoughts out the window as you geared up with vinegar in your veins, ready to argue with him.

Rolling your eyes again you say, “didn’t know I would be hosting Julia Child.” The counters are filled with mixing bowls, the scarce amount of milk you had left and a carton of eggs. “I rarely eat here, besides… nobody asked you to do this. I’m fine, I can make my own food… and you can leave.”

He stops whisking the eggs and shakes his head before continuing, holding the bowl and turning to face you.

“My skin has grown pretty thick over the last few years, so if you think you can insult me enough to hurt my feelings, save your breath.”

Hands on your hips you stare up at him, “maybe your thick skin can tell your thick fuckin’ head that I don’t need you around.”

“Do you push everyone away, or is this a special thing you’ve saved just for me?” Eddie asks earnestly.

You stalk towards him, arms crossed, “well I’ve had seven years to come up with what I needed to say, so don’t flatter yourself.”

“By all means, lay it on me,” he retorts, spreading his arms wide, “I deserve it—but I told you why I had to leave,” he half pleads, “I didn’t have a choice.”

Rage pours from you thickly, and you can barely stand yourself as you scream at him.

“There’s always a choice! You’re only here now because you know you made the wrong one, and you can’t live with that!”

“I have one regret in my life— one… and you’re right, it was leaving Hawkins without you. I think about it every single day, but don’t think I never—” he pauses long and hard.

Would he ever tell you? Not like this, not right now.

“Don’t think what?” you poke, sticking a knife into his wound and adding salt until it festered, “c’mon Eddie don’t quit on me now.”

You were being awful, but it was the best shield you had.

“Really wanna go there? Wanna have this talk? Fine, we can do that,” he stood tall but his shoulders sagged and his voice was quiet, “but only when you’re sober. I’m not fucking talking to you about this while you’re drunk and high.”

“‘m not drunk,” you sulked.

Eddie turned back to the stove, placing the eggs in the hot pan and letting them sizzle before scraping them around with a spatula, “whatever you think, sit down… this is almost done.”

You slid into a chair at your table, “I’m not hungry.”

“Don’t care, you need to eat, and lucky for you,” he chides, turning off the burners, “I worked as a cook for about a week a few years ago, so I made due with what you had.”

You wait for him to say he was joking but he never does, “how did you manage that—learning the fine culinary skills from making grilled cheese and orange koolaid?”

He laughs and opens a cupboard looking for plates, “well, living on the streets, you find out real quick just how much you’re willing to lie to get a job.”

Eddie places two pancakes on each plate with a heap of scrambled eggs and a few slices of an apple.

For the first time since he’s been back you take in account just how scary it must’ve been for him when he left, and your heart sinks.

“How long did you do that?” you ask quietly, moving towards the coffee maker and placing a filter into it, adding the grounds.

“Work as a chef? Oh not long they figured out I didn’t know anything about cooking shortly after I burned the hard boiled eggs.”

“No, I mean… live on the streets.”

Eddie carries the plates to the small table, “a few months here and there… crashed on a lot of couches until I had enough money to rent a room from a guy I worked with… wasn’t too bad, the van was pretty roomy.”

Nodding, you watch as the coffee brews and begins to drip into the glass pot. He moves behind you and back to the fridge to get out a tub of butter.

The itch of him being in your apartment felt so beyond foreign but was starting to feel almost comforting. As if him being around was closing your own open wounds, and you were getting whiplash from listening to your mind and then your heart all in one night.

“I’m sorry you had to do that.”

He turns to see you looking at him with a sad look in your eyes, and it broke him to see you go from one extreme to another. Fighting mad like a cat in a bathtub one minute to crying the next. As angry as you had been at him, he understood because he experienced the same kind of light switch type of emotions.

Two kids who never learned how to properly handle feelings, now barely adults still navigating the waters of being an adult.

“Hey,” Eddie spoke softly, crossing over to you, he places large hands around your biceps, looking deep into your eyes, “I’m alright, Clove. I made it out just fine, okay? Someday you’ll see for yourself just how good life can be, I promise.”

Hanging your head you mumble, “there’s nothing good left for me, Eddie.”

His hand moves under your chin before he can even wonder if what he’s doing is alright, and a tear falls before he can wipe it from your cheek.

“Don’t say that.”

Your eyes lift to him as more tears leak out, “I’m stuck here…you don’t know the kind of shit I’m in.”

Eddie pulls you into him as you cry, rubbing your back as you sob into his chest. You didn’t know the last time that you’ve been hugged and you melt into his arms as you tuck yours further into him.

You needed Eddie home, as much as you hated how your lives ended up, this was exactly what you needed. Him. Here, with you.

“I’ll help you, Clove…” he whispers into your hair, “all you need to do is let me.”

For the first time in a long while you believed him. Putting hope or faith or whatever you could into that moment, into his words. Holding that little ball of light at the end of the tunnel close to your chest.

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#eddie munson #eddie fanfic #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst

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queen-of-the-avengers · 3 days

Text

It's Looking Up From Here

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.6k

Warnings: relationship angst, fluff, implied smut

Summary: You and Gio grow closer over your shared interest in fashion and create something beautiful that only you can pull off. He invites you to a party this weekend but Bucky has bigger and better plans you can't resist.

Between Love and Hate Masterlist

Squares Filled: "tell me" (2023) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

Then

Bucky was very secretive when it came to most of the things in his life. He trusted you enough to let you sleep over in his house but didn’t trust you enough to keep all the doors unlocked. You just wanted to know everything you could about Bucky since he didn’t share a lot with you. He’d always been with you whenever you went exploring his house but he was still in bed. This was your opportunity to look before he caught you.

Bucky’s mansion is huge with more rooms than he used. There was an entire wing of the house that no one used but he still kept this house as if he needed every room. Bucky didn’t keep a lot of stuff on the wall because he claimed that the pictures he wanted to look at were either in his wallet or on his phone.

All of them were of you.

Bucky’s mansion had a personal gym, two movie theater rooms, a bowling alley, two game rooms, a shooting range, two bars, over a dozen bedrooms and bathrooms, a spa, a huge indoor pool, and a multi-story car garage. You were still not sure how that even worked and you’ve seen him use cars that were on the second story. Sam and Steve had rooms here since he trusted them more than his other men but you hadn’t seen them in a while.

What kind of job does Bucky do that requires him to have a boatload of men with guns? Maybe you knew the answer and didn’t want to face it. You didn’t want to think of Bucky other than the sweet man you loved.

Since you knew of almost every room in his house, you head to the one place he kept under lock and key. Of course, his office door is locked when you get there. He told you never to go in here but why? Bucky’s maid walked out of the room next to his office, scaring you. You knew he had a chef and a maid that lived in the house but you didn’t expect her to be up this early.

“Sorry, you scared me,” you chuckled. She rolled her cart past his office and continued to the next room. “Aren’t you going to go in there?”

“Mr. Barnes doesn’t want anyone going in there but him.”

Now you were more confused than ever. You grabbed the door handle and tried again as if the door would be magically unlocked from the last time you tried it. Why didn't he want anyone in there? What was really in there? What was he hiding? You stood on your tiptoes and felt along the rim of the door. Maybe he kept a key there even though it was unlikely.

“What are you doing?”

You jumped at hearing his voice and you turned to face him. There was no point in trying to hide it. You were caught red-handed.

“Nothing,” you said sheepishly.

“Were you trying to get into my office?”

You dropped the innocent facade with an eye roll.

“I’m sorry, Bucky, but I’m curious. You don’t let anyone in there.”

“Yeah, there’s a reason why,” he glared.

“So, what’s the reason? What do you have in there?”

“Nothing. It’s just an office.”

“Tell me, if it’s just an office, why can’t I go in there? Why do you keep the door locked?”

“I let you have free reign in this entire house. Why can’t you let this one go?” he sighed in frustration.

You’ve always wanted things you couldn’t have.

“If it’s not a big deal, why can’t I go inside? What are you hiding?”

“Nothing.” You kept asking questions that pissed him off but he wasn’t going to yell in your face. Until you kept pushing the issue, and he exploded. “I said it’s nothing, Y/N! I don’t want you going in there!” You jumped from the sudden explosion and immediately hurt that he’d yell at you. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, I just don’t want people in there. I’m very private.”

“Okay,” you said in a hollow voice.

“I’m sorry for yelling. I’m just stressed at work.”

“And what is it that you do? You keep that a secret, too?”

“I really don’t want to get into this right now.”

“Yeah,” you scoffed, “what did I expect? A mature conversation? No, you go off running away every time I bring up your job that you don’t want me to know about.”

Bucky’s fists clenched but he didn’t move them from his side.

“Y/N…”

“No, it’s fine. It’s not like this is a relationship or anything,” you scoffed and walked back to your room.

Now

You and Gio put the finishing touches on the dress you two are making for class. The dress is light pink and goes all the way down to your feet. If you’re not wearing some kind of heel, the dress will drag. The top is elegant where the silky fabric crosses over each other over the breasts. It’s spaghetti straps but a line of fabric drapes from the front to the back giving the false look of flowy sleeves.

“Damn, you’re good at this,” Gio smiles.

“We’re good at this,” you correct.

“Alright, you should be putting the finishing touches on your projects,” your professor announces. “I’ll need one person from each group to try on the project and show the class.”

“So, who is going to put this on?” you ask Gio.

“I think this was made for you.”

“I don’t know, I’d like to see you wear this,” you joke.

You and seven other people take their projects and leave the room to try on what they made. You’re the first one back so you walk into the classroom with a shy smile. Gio stares at you with parted lips like he thinks you’re the most beautiful woman in the world. The dress fits you like it was made for your body. When designing it, you might have put your own size into it. If your professor would let you, you’d love to take this home and show Bucky. You and Gio explain to the class the process of making the dress and why you chose the silky fabric. Afterward, you step down and let the next group go.

“You look beautiful,” Gio smiles once back at your desk.

“Thank you. I love it.”

“It was made for you. It fits really well.”

“I wish I could take it home.”

Before class is done, you change out of the dress and leave it for your professor to grade. You and Gio walk to the cafeteria to grab something to eat. Bucky will be pulling up to the meeting point since you have a half-day today but you figure he can wait while you have lunch with Gio. You two pay for lunch and find a spot to eat outside.

“So, a bunch of us are going to a party this weekend. My friend is in Delta Phi and is going to be throwing one of their legendary parties. I want you to go.”

“I’ve never been to a frat party before. It sounds like fun. Let me check my schedule and see if I have anything planned.”

You take out your planner and look at this weekend.

“You did a really good job on the dress.”

“You helped,” you smile.

“Nah, that was all you. You’re going to make a great fashion designer one day.”

“Thank you. I don’t have anything planned for this weekend. I’d love to go to a party.”

Gio is about to respond when he notices something behind you. His entire face hardens into something you think is hate. You look back and see Bucky and sigh knowing he is pissed you weren't there. He takes a seat next to you but doesn’t regard Gio at all.

“Where were you?”

“I’m having lunch with my friend. Bucky, this is Gio. Gio, this is Bucky.”

Bucky only grunts in Gio’s direction. He’s never been a people person much less with men you know

“Come on, I have a surprise waiting for you at home.”

“You’re dating him?” Gio asks in surprise.

“You say that like you know him.” You look at Bucky. “Do you know him?”

“I’ve never met you before.”

“Sorry,” Gio chuckles breathily, “I thought you were someone else.”

“I have to go. Thanks for lunch,” you smile and pack up.

“So, you’ll be at the party?”

“Yeah.”

You leave with Bucky but only until he is back in the car does he say something.

“What party?”

“He invited me to a frat party. I told him I’d go. It’s this weekend.”

“You know what’s at those college parties? Booze, sex, and drugs.”

“What, you think I can’t handle myself?” you ask and look at him.

“I know you can. It’s them I don’t trust.”

“Then why don’t you come with me?”

Bucky looks at you with a bitch face.

“Do I look like a frat boy?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes you act like one.” He laughs and shakes his head. When he gets home, he escorts you inside with a hand on the small of your back. “So, what’s this surprise?”

Bucky steps away from you and walks over to four suitcases by the stairs.

“We’re going to Italy.” You gasp in shock. “Awh, looks like you won’t be going to that little party after all.”

“What about school?”

“I worked out a deal with your teachers so you can do it online.”

“I’ve never been to Italy before,” you grin.

“So, would you trade fine dining, luxury, and me for frat boys, drinking, and beer pong?”

You walk up to Bucky and put one hand on his shoulder and the other on the side of his face.

“You. I choose you.”

He grabs you by your hips and kisses you desperately. He picks you up by your thighs and you wrap your legs around his waist.

“We leave in the morning.”

You giggle when his stubble touches your neck but moan when his lips start kissing you there.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #marvel fanfic #marvel fan fic #mcu #marvel fan fiction #mcu fanfiction #marvel fiction #marvel fluff

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seuonji · 2 days

Text

彡 lend me a bit of your touch and see me. — chwe vernon

notes ๑ as vernon cooks for the two of you, you slowly lose hope in his abilities but he’s persistent in having you eat the meals her prepares, even if he needs to force you to try it.

genre ๑ roommates! platonic to romance? fluff.

warnings ๑ non!

word count ๑ 0.4k

from aya: please reblog if you enjoyed! feedback is always appreciated<3

the lights were dim in your cozy apartment that you shared with your roommate vernon.

you sat on the corner of your couch as you scrolled on your phone. today, it was vernons turn to cook and all was well and peaceful until you heard a harsh blow of flames and suddenly the cozy apartment smelled as if you were to be burnt.

“vernon.” you said said sternly.

“i’m fine,” he calmly replied.

“i’m sure you are, i’m not quite sure how you haven’t died yet. but is the kitchen okay?” your footsteps ascended towards the kitchen and vernon was to say the least, fumbling. you could hear him scrambling and the sound of his spatula clanking onto the pan became louder.

as your body was visible to vernon’s sight, he paused and turned the stove off.

your eyes averted to the pan and you seemed, bewildered.

vernon looked at the pan then to you.

he took a deep breath and reassured, “it is not that bad.”

“what am i even looking at?”

“egg fried rice?”

“why are you talking as if you don’t know what you’re making?”

he shrugged and looked back to the pan.

“we are ordering today.”

“HARSH!”

you slowly walked away defeated. you thought if you gave your roommate more chances to cook in his own time he would eventually learn how to do it right especially in the case he needs to cook for his future partner but that thought is looking bleak now.

“no, ynnie, c’mere!” pulled you by your arm. your body faced his and you fell out of balance and your were sandwiched onto him but he took no time to make you try the diabolical work he’s created from his cauldron.

you chewed a bit and it was a bit burnt and over seasoned but, it was good.

you looked at him and slowly noticed the position you two were in.

you coughed and parted, “that’s actually not bad.”

he had his vernon smile on, “told you!”

“yeah, i’m excited to eat. come i’ll set the table.”

he nodded and cleaned the kitchen a bit before bring the food to the table.

you quietly collected the plates and some utensils but there was a slight clatter being made from you shaking. you’ve never seen vernon in such a light but his touch with no inches in between you two. why did it feel nice.

why did it make your heart race?

#🐚☆#📢aya wrote!#caratsland #vernon #vernon chwe #seventeen #svt #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #svt imagines #vernon x reader #vernon x you #vernon x y/n

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itsgrimeytime · 23 hours

Text

he's such a pretty liar || Rick Grimes (TWD) × gn!reader

rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax @mgparker @zomb-1-egutzz @deadgirlrin

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Dialogue Prompts: 8 + 2

Inspiration: my boy by Billie Eilish

Summary: You and Rick had gotten along at some point, at the farm and prison. You were friends even. Until the Governor killed Hershel, which you believed to be perfectly preventable. Because of his inaction then, you'd gotten a bitter taste in your mouth at the thought of him and eventually, he started to reciprocate the behavior. But as time passes, and you experience more and more with him, is it really hate that you feel?

TWs: enemies to lovers (like fr though), yelling, mentions of death (Shane, Lori, Beth, and Hershel), mention of the Claimers scene, cursing, anger, nosebleed, bruising, love confessions, injuries, blood, and all things TWD.

[[A/N: This is based on Carl being mad at Rick after the prison. Rick do be stressed out, and he do be saying some terrible stuff, but like so are you. This gif is so 🫣💞🤭💞🤪. Anyway, enjoy :))) ]]

You weren't a bad person, and in that regard, you wouldn't say Rick was either. Honestly, you respected him as a leader -you just didn't agree with all his choices. That's where it all started, after all, isn't it?

You'd seen what a wrong choice could do, you'd watched Hershel die right in front of your eyes. You'd seen it all.

And, sure, maybe you were grieving a little but you still largely disagreed with Rick's actions on the matter. It was preventable.

It started there, and only really got worse. It was like once you identified one flaw, suddenly you were second-guessing his every move. The two of you couldn't be in a room without arguing, couldn't be put on shifts together, nothing. Daryl, for one, wouldn't let you be alone together at all. And if it wasn't him, it was someone else.

"Rick, seriously," you spoke once, almost sternly, "-that can't be your decision."

"Why?" he responded -pointed and short, "-Ya got a better idea? Go right fuckin' ahead."

You knew that since the prison, Rick had been strung thin. You knew that he had been harder on himself than you could ever be about Hershel. But, you still were angry. Sometimes, sometimes it felt like maybe he was just a target for everything that you'd been through. And you were trying to change your behavior, change your ways.

You'd known him for so long, and you were going to be stuck with him. The group, even though the two of you weren't on the best terms, was like family to you.

And then, it started getting personal.

This argument stemmed from something small, trivial, you can't even remember it now. Maybe a decision on a run? You can't-

"Ya act like ya ain't made mistakes of your own," he added, "-all high and damn mighty-"

"When did I say that?" You interrupted, more cold than anything, "-You're putting words in my mouth, Grimes."

"-Because I seem to remember ya tellin' me about your family," he continued, not even pausing to listen to you.

You stilled in place.

"Rick," you warned (voice slightly shaking), "-don't... don't go there."

Your family. At the beginning of all this, you'd froze -scared. Watched one of them get bitten, and then everyone just followed after -not willing to grieve. You regretted not being quicker, not being more aware, but you weren't used to it. You weren't-

"Ya fucked up," Rick continued, as if he wasn't bringing up what he was, "-We all do, why do you-"

"No, no," you shook your head, voice shaking, "-Rick, that is not fair. You can't bring up my family-"

You had hated yourself for that, hated yourself. Still did. You would never forgive yourself for not saving them, even though you really didn't have an idea how to then, you should have-

God, he was bringing this up? Really?

"-over a goddamn run strategy."

"Well, you pick apart every damn thing I do," he retorted, "-'Thought I'd do the same for once."

"Oh, fuck you, Rick," you seethed, tears burning the backs of your eyes, "-you want me to poke at your wounds? Talk about who you could've saved?"

He pursed his lips, and you saw something flash through his eyes (they were trailing the now shake of your hands) that looked a little like regret. Like maybe he was understanding what he said. You felt like your skin was on fire.

"Do you want me to start from the beginning?" You tsked, a fire burning in your chest, "-Shane? Or maybe Lori? Beth? Hershel-"

"Stop," he stated, quieter than before.

"-Why, Rick?" you hissed, and you felt the tears now, "-Is this not what we're talking about? Oh, do you not want me to bring that up? Over a run?"

"I get it," he spoke, softer, and something in you sharpened, "-I get it, Y/N."

"Do you?" you responded, frustrated and just... angry, "-Do you, Rick?"

"I shouldn't 'ave-"

"Can it," you interrupted -short, "-Let's just get the fucking supplies and go."

Rick frowned, blue eyes far more emotive (all you could see was regret and pity), "Y/N, I didn't-"

"You didn't what?" You countered, and your voice was cracking, "-You didn't mean to bring up the fact that I watched my family die, right in front of me? Do you think that I don't hate myself every day for not doing anything then?"

Rick didn't say a word.

"-Hate to break it to you, sheriff, but I fucking do."

"Y/N..." he trailed off, blue eyes much calmer, the rage from before dissipating out of his voice.

"No, just-" you cleared your throat, wiping mindlessly at your frustratingly red eyes, "-Let's get this shit done and leave."

From then on, it had been much deeper.

You couldn't stand him, you hadn't been alone with him since. He made your skin crawl and your mind flare up in anger, and sometimes, just sometimes, it would shake your respect for him. Because you did have some, you probably wouldn't even be here, if you didn't.

The funny thing about it all was that you were close to Carl, very close to him. At the prison, after Lori's death, you'd nearly been inseparable. It was kind of like a parent relationship, but at the same time a little like a friend. It made you want to reconcile sometimes, but all you and Rick did was clash.

So much that you started to wonder what a normal conversation was like with him.

And then, you had the run-in with the Claimers.

God, what they'd threatened to do to Carl? You personally would've snapped their spine yourself if you had the chance. But what Rick had done? You couldn't imagine it yourself.

But you knew that he did what he had to. And some part of you wanted to tell him that, despite... despite all of your problems, you knew he needed it.

It was late that night when you decided to talk to him. It was just the two of you awake. You, on purpose, and you just knew Rick would be. Doing that was probably still rattling through his skull, he probably couldn't even close his eyes without-

Your steps were slow and careful, trying not to startle him -he just seemed to be staring. Endlessly staring, and just pacing. Despite it all, you felt something in your chest swirl with worry.

"Rick?" you spoke, gently. Even still, you saw his whole body tense up.

"Please," he muttered, voice low and gravelly -blue eyes heavy on you, "-I don't need your shit right now. I kno' 'at I did somethin' bad, really damn bad. But I just can't deal wit' ya-"

"No, Rick," you interrupted, "-that's not why I'm... That's not what I want to say."

"What do ya want to say, then?"

"You made the right decision," you responded, tone sturdy and unmoving, "-you... you did what you had to."

Rick stilled, something flickering through his face -a flutter of emotions.

"I know, we aren't on the best terms, but-" you rolled your lip around your teeth, "-you're not a monster, Rick."

The silence was loud then, as his blue eyes skimmed over you -carefully. Maybe like he was seeing a new you, or maybe an old one he'd forgotten about. One you'd forgotten about.

"Trust me, I know it feels like it," you added (mind flashing with what you'd done over the years), "-but you did what you had to. You saved your son, and that's all that matters."

He didn't say anything for a moment, trying to process your words. And if you really looked, you might've seen his eyes fogging up a little and the slight drop of tension in his shoulders. A little like he was waiting for someone to tell him that.

And then, he replied, "Thank ya."

You pursed your lips a moment, fidgeting with your hands. You weren't sure what else to say. This was all so new. With a succinct nod, you moved to spin on your heel and lay down for the night.

"Wait," he called, and you turned back to him -eyes inquisitive.

There was a beat.

"-'At day, on the run," he continued, slow and regretful, "-I'm... I'm sorry. I never should 'ave said somethin' like 'at. I never should 'ave brought it up at all. 'Wasn't right of me to."

"Thanks, Rick," you responded, brief but genuine, grateful. You could tell he understood.

Before you could fully turn around though, he added -softer, with something you couldn't quite name, "Goodnight, Y/N."

There was a pleasant hum in your mind at the way he said your name, but you shoved it away. You'd locked all of that far away, a long time ago.

"Night, Grimes," you chimed back, lighter in tone.

He smiled at you then, and something in you gleamed a little from it. Not that you would ever say it out loud.

There was something different after that, a sort of trust or respect. Or maybe something else, you didn't really know. It was there, though.

When you found Alexandria, things shifted a little. Mostly because it was your group against another one, you and Rick were profoundly on the same side. That being said, you still clashed. You weren't sure if it was just the authority of it all, or what? (It might've had a little to do with a blonde wife that he was spending some time with, but you'd never say that out loud.)

"You're seriously not going to let me lead the run?"

"I got Daryl on it," he responded, eyes solely sat on you.

"He's been on all the runs lately," you continued, trying to explain your case, "-Shouldn't this shit be evenly distributed? Have you even talked to Daryl about what he wants? Or are you just assigning us like it's some dictatorship-"

"'Course I damn talked to 'im," he snapped back, and you could see something tired in his eyes, "-everybody gets a say in what 'ey're doin', ya know 'at."

"Except for me," you contradicted, "-you keep giving me the same fucking chores, when I'm useful in other places-"

And he was, he kept you in Alexandria -washing clothes, making dinner, keeping an eye on the people. He made you some kind of mediator between Deanna's people and your own. But you were useful, you shouldn't be locked inside like you couldn't handle yourself. Because you could, and you had before.

"-You know, I scavenged for months before I met you, right? I was alone, and I figured it out."

"I know 'at," he confirmed, pinching the bridge of his nose. You could nearly see the stress radiating off him, but you couldn't stop, not then.

"So, so what-" you asked, "-you don't trust me? You don't think I can do it?"

Rick sighed, big and loud -fully facing you, "It ain't 'at, Y/N. I know ya can handle yourself, I've seen it."

"Then, what is the problem, Grimes? I don't get it-"

"Just take the goddamn next run," he groaned, something in his tone broken (and something a little like guilt curled up in your stomach), "-I'll tell Daryl he's switchin'."

You stopped in place, words faltering off your lips. Your will and the fire in your gut extinguished, you suddenly felt very out of place, and a little like the bad guy. You knew you weren't though, but he just looked so tired-

"Okay," you finally responded, a little dumbfounded, "-thanks."

He nodded in your direction and didn't say a word. You took it as a motion to move along, so you did.

Apparently, he might've had a good reason to worry.

It wasn't that first run, or even the second or third, it was the fourth after that conversation that you were stupid. Well, it really wasn't your fault. You thought someone had your back, and they didn't; so, one of the walkers had clawed pretty deep into your arm.

It was bleeding a lot (maybe too much) and probably needed stitches, but you didn't worry about it. Denise could handle it, and you, as a community, were pretty good on medical supplies at this point.

What you didn't expect, was after Denise patched you up for one Rick Grimes to be on your ass.

You were still sitting in her doctor's space (you had no idea what to call it) then, silently trailing your fingers over the bandaging. You could already see some of the blood through the white of it. It made you a little nervous, you won't lie.

And then, the door swung open.

At first, you nearly grabbed for the knife you hid on you -alarmed, assuming it was someone coming to hurt you. Instead, you were met with one Rick Grimes -his face was all scrunched up in that way he always got when he was frustrated.

If there was one thing you could recognize, it was that.

"Rick?" you questioned -carefully, a little shocked by him bursting into the room. Did you do something to him recently?

"'At's why ya can't go on fuckin' runs," he grumbled out -suddenly so angry, it made your head spin.

You furrowed your eyebrows, "What?"

"You're always makin' damn bad decisions," he continued, and something in you bristled. Your defenses were up in an instant.

"What the fuck, Rick?" you countered, "-You don't even know what happened, how the hell do you know it's on me?"

"You're injured," he clarified, a little like he was talking to himself, "-ya made a stupid mistake-"

"How the hell do you know that?" you hissed, "-Do you just think everything that goes wrong has to be my fucking fault, Grimes?"

"-and you're damn hurt."

There was something there in his tone, something different. Your frustration twisted into a little bit of curiosity. What was that?

"I can’t leave ya alone for one second without ya hurting yourself, can I?" He started up again, and it was there again, angry but also... but also-

Your eyes swam over him, and you recognized it then, worry. He was worried about you, you felt something in you stall. It was so different from what you knew from him-

"I mean," you responded, a little awkwardly -unsure (since when did he care so much?), "-I’m fine so it’s okay-"

"No, it’s not okay," he suddenly shot his eyes to you, blue eyes heavy with worry (so much, it shot to your core), "-Not when I feel like I’m goin' to go batshit fuckin' crazy, thinkin' you’ve hurt yourself."

It was silent for a moment, as your mind processed the words. Skimming along his face, as he seemed to do the same -frustration dissipating along his features.

That... That was new.

"It's just some scratches," you spoke -a little lost, you weren't sure exactly what to say. He cared about you that much? Thought about you that much?

Rick's eyes darted to the bandages, which were just about as dark as before -which was just a little, the stitches seemed to stop it mostly. Something in him relaxed, you could tell in his shoulders -the drop of the tension. You couldn't believe that was because of you. When-

"Ya had to get stitches, yeah?" He spoke, suddenly and a bit awkwardly too (like he wasn't sure what to do).

"I did," you confirmed, just looking and something in you felt like you needed to tell him more, so you did, "-Uh, five in one, and three in the other."

He pursed his lips (like he was debating something), before shattering out a breath, "Can I see it?"

"It's already wrapped up," you responded, blankly -you were running a little on autopilot, "-She already-"

"Denise can rewrap it," he offered, stepping closer. Something in your stomach stirred.

You furrowed your eyebrows, "You want to waste medical supplies, just so you can see my wound?"

Rick's lips pressed into a thin line, something in him firing back up, "I'll replace the supplies my damn self, if I 'ave to, just let me see."

You couldn't really say anything, it felt like all the words had washed from your head. Like you couldn't speak if your life was on the line.

He faltered a second, sighing, and his eyes shifted to something softer (a little like pleading), "I... I need to see if ya are alright."

You felt like you were stone -frozen.

"Please."

Your heart lept into your throat (and you let your mind drift somewhere you'd never let it before), "Yeah, okay."

That started the shift.

And he started checking over you after every run, you thought it would've been annoying but... you got used to it. And something in you liked helping him calm down, although you'd never say it out loud.

Things were a little different. You clashed but it wasn't as fiery anymore. Because you knew he cared about you, and somewhere you could acknowledge you cared about him. (More than you'd ever admit.)

This time it wasn't even Rick you were arguing with. It was someone originally from Alexandria. You couldn't even remember their name, but they'd said something about you and you let it slide. But then, they kept going.

"You made a shit call," the guy remarked, sauntering up to your side.

You were a little startled, but you stayed composed, "What are you talking about?"

"We could've gotten more supplies," he continued, "-that gun store was right there, and you called the whole fucking thing off."

You soured -something steeling in your gut, "You mean the one that was swarmed? Hate to break it to you, but we were outnumbered."

"We could've done it," he added -persistent, something frustrated in his tone, "-we had the manpower."

"Are you serious?" you laughed a little incredulously, "-There were three of us, and about 30, 40 maybe, walkers. That is-"

"Maybe you couldn't have done it," he tsked, lips falling in a flat line.

You flexed your jaw, trying to stay composed, "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"You're a sorry fucking excuse for a lead," he gritted through his teeth, "-You don't know shit about-"

"Next time, just go right ahead and do it yourself then," you shot back but stayed still in your space (composed, composed, composed), "-and I don't know about you, but I value life more than something we already fucking have-"

"It's ammunition," he seethed, stepping much closer to you -something sparking behind his eyes, "-Don't know if you fucking know this, but it's pretty damn important to survival-"

"No," you disagreed, voice calm and collected, "-it's not. You don't need to walk into a situation that you can't handle-"

Without warning, a fist flew at your face -right at the nose.

"Shit," you hissed, and you felt the thrum of pain under your skin and could almost immediately taste the coppery taste of blood, "-What the fuck? Why did you-"

"What the hell is goin' on 'ere?"

It was Rick, and his tone was something you'd only heard a few times -blue eyes flickering over you. They held onto your, now bleeding, nose which you were now trying to soothe, and something in his jaw tightened.

The guy was the first one to speak, mostly because you were trying to stop the bleeding. Luckily, Maggie rushed up to your side with paper towels -doing her best to help too.

"They made a mistake on the run-"

Rick didn't let him get far, "So, you punched 'em in the damn face?"

"Well," the guy fell quieter, "-we were arguing-"

Maggie snapped back, shifting her focus for a moment, "You were arguin'."

"No-"

"They were just trying to talk some sense into ya," she continued, tone cold, "-You were the one who took it personally-"

Rick put a hand on her shoulder, eyes flickering toward you -something swimming through them that you recognized from a different day, and Maggie took the notion to stop talking. She turned back to you, and gently guided you to tilt your head forward. On instinct, you pinched your nostrils shut -breathing out of your mouth.

"Even if it was a fuckin' argument," Rick tsked, something cold in his tone, "-there's no damn reason to do 'at. They weren't gettin' violent with ya-"

"How do you know that?"

"Because I kno' 'em," he retorted, "-an' if 'ey got their hands on ya, you wouldn't be standin' in front of me."

You laughed a little and could feel his eyes shoot to you for a second. It made something in your chest flutter, something you were trying desperately to ignore.

"We need to get ya some ice," Maggie spoke, mostly to herself, "-It's already bruisin' up pretty bad."

"'S leave 'is for another day," Rick seemed to exit the conversation with the man, tone unshakable, "-but if I 'ear anythin' else from ya, 'ere's gonna be a problem. Ya got 'at?"

You could almost visually see the way Rick shifted as he made his way over to you. Composure slipping into something more worried, eyebrows furrowing and eyes shining in an entirely different way. Like he couldn't help it, his hands frantically found themselves along your shoulders. It made your skin buzz a little, and made you feel a little woozy. Well, you guessed there could be more than one reason for that.

On that note, you stumbled in place a little, and Rick's hands immediately slid to your sides -stabilizing you. Your heart skipped a beat, stupid fucking handsome men with big fucking hands.

"'Ey, can ya bring a chair over 'ere, please?"

Before you could so much as blink, he was pushing you into it -gently, mind you. Ever-so-gently. And almost on instinct, he fell onto one knee in front of you, trying to hold your eye contact with your head slightly forward, you guessed. His eyes were the same as that day, but there was something else there too, something fuzzier.

"Maggie, ya go get the ice," he turned to her, "-I'll stay with 'em."

She seemed to scamper off because you could tell it was just the two of you. Maybe he'd warded off everyone else, Rick had this... aura to him when he wanted to -a dangerous one. Sometimes you thought it was to balance out his natural nature as a leader.

Quietly, you heard Rick tear off another paper towel and gently wipe at your mouth (where you imagined blood was staining at this point). It was strangely intimate, as you just skimmed over his face.

He was entirely focused on the task, so your eyes roamed along the creases along his face, the blue of his eyes, the sharp line of his nose, the little curls that peeked behind his ears-

You blinked, clearing your thoughts. He was always handsome, you knew that.

"What even is that dick's name?" you questioned, testing to see if your nose had stopped bleeding as much. It had.

Rick smiled a little, looking up at your eyes from where he was focused before (he seemed to be done), "I 'ave no fuckin' clue."

You laughed at that, and if you were honest with yourself thought you saw something shoot through his eyes. Something warm. You ignored it.

"'S hurt?" he spoke, softer.

You responded, simply, "I've had worse."

Rick smiled a little at that, but fell into something more serious, "So, yeah?"

"Like a bitch," you admitted, and he let out a low sort of chuckle.

It made something in you relax, something warm lighting up in your chest. You let yourself feel it this time, just once.

"Just so ya know," he interrupted your thought process, "-'at ain't happenin' again."

You frowned, furrowing your eyebrows -warmth dissipating, "Are you- Are you chastising me right now?"

"No," he quickly responded, but didn't explain further, "-'M just tellin' ya I ain't lettin' it happen again."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Rick paused a second, ripping another paper towel off and dabbing at your nose. It was probably still bleeding a little bit.

You just watched him, waiting for an explanation. Even though, you weren't entirely sure he was going to give you one.

"Anyone touches ya, says anythin' to ya, so much as looks at ya the wrong way-" he listed, tone deadly serious (it shook through your skull), "-ya come get me, and I’ll set 'em straight. Understand?"

Your mouth moved before you could stop it, "What?"

"I'll handle it," he repeated, pulling away the paper towel and locking eyes with yours, "-It ain't happenin' again."

"Rick," you laughed -incredulously, and maybe a little defensive, "-I don't need a fucking guard dog. I can handle myself."

"'Didn’t say 'at," he hummed, carefully, eyes skimming along your face -a little like he was in wonder (it made your head spin a second), "-'S for me, not ya."

"How does that-"

"If 'ey're fuckin' with ya, 'ey're fuckin' with me," he interrupted, eyes so solid that you couldn't really look away, "-you can handle it how ya want, but Imma 'ave some choice words of my own. So, send 'em my way too."

The words faltered in your throat, something swirling around your heart. He was just so-

The coppery taste again.

You shriveled up your nose in disgust, and Rick laughed at it (something gleaming in his eye), as you reacted -spitting the taste out into the dirt.

"Yeah, keep laughing, Grimes," you tsked, but there was no bite, not really. Not like there used to be, "-I'll beat the shit out of you."

"'Ere's no doubt in my mind," he retorted back, smiling in a way that crinkled at the eyes. You thought for a spare second it was a beautiful one, that maybe he was beautiful.

After that day, you'd say that everything was a little confusing.

These feelings towards Rick were far from new, very far. They'd always kind of been in the very back of your mind. Part of you was actually pretty sure that hating him had in some way distanced you from what you felt otherwise. Now, that is to say, you had definitely hated him at one point. That just didn't mean that it erased the... other thing.

You and Rick were off-kilter. Or at least you were. You guessed you couldn't say anything about him, he was very much a mystery to you at this point.

He just kept doing things. Like the scratch and nosebleed. And every time he'd smile at you a bit warmer, say something you couldn't really avoid. Not anymore. (And you weren't sure you wanted to avoid, honestly.)

And he'd looked at you a lot more, searched you out (when before you used to shun each other, avoid each other), and just smiled at you sometimes for no reason. The thing was you didn't mind it. You wanted him to. Because you... because it was all different.

You were confused, but you weren't going to be the one to encroach on it. It all felt so surreal, that one day something would happen and you'd just snap right back into place -just like before. To be fair, you still argued. But, it was moreso bickering now. And even if it wasn't, before you could get as heated as you used to, you compromised -easily.

You slotted together perfectly and bounced off each other with ease. Hell, he started coming to you about running Alexandria, about problems he couldn't quite get. And the two of you would talk until you worked out a solution. Because you always did.

It made no sense why you'd even clashed in the first place.

You were confused, beyond confused. And you wanted things, wanted to ask things, but they seemed dangerous. Far away-

That brought you here, on a night when you couldn't sleep. Which were more frequent nowadays, if you were completely honest. This whole situation made your mind run for a lot of different reasons, and when it wasn't that, it was nightmares. Alexandria was safe, you knew that, but it didn't necessarily stop your fight or flight -the urge to constantly be on edge, protect.

So, sometimes you sat here on the steps of your porch in the night -the chill and silence of it soothed you. It wouldn't always get you back to sleep, but it would make you feel better. Remind yourself that you're breathing. That you're alive.

You exhaled, trailing your finger along the wood of the railing beside you -absorbing the low buzz of bugs in the air and the strangely familiar groans of walkers outside the walls. It was kinda fucked up that it calmed you down, but you gave yourself a pass.

"Funny seein' ya 'ere."

Your eyes shot up and latched onto his.

The Grimes house was just a couple of houses down, diagonal to yours. So, you could see him, but not entirely clearly.

He was leaning on the porch railing, you could see the sleeves of his jacket against the starch white, and his hair seemed a little messy -your eyes trailed over a particular curl. It was hanging slightly down in front of his face. (You got the urge to fix it, comb it back into place.)

"'Could say the same to you, Grimes," you replied.

You saw him smile, dropping his head to look at the ground. It made something in your chest flutter. But, before you could say anything else, he was stepping down from his porch and making his way to you.

As he got closer you recognized that he was in pajamas with just a jacket thrown over.

He stood just at the bottom of the stairs, leaning onto the railing slightly and just looking at you. Like he always did these days. With worry and... something else.

"Nightmare?" he questioned, genuinely.

You rolled your lip around your teeth, deciding to say, "Kind of."

Rick's lips pressed into a frown, eyes glazing along your face (you didn't look back at him), "Can I sit?"

You were wordless, but moved slightly to the left (despite not really needing to) as unspoken acceptance. He stared at you for a second longer, before slowly but surely making his way to the steps. He sat closer to you than you thought he would've, but it was almost in character of him to do something that surprises you so.

"Ya cold?"

On cue, you shivered slightly, "I've had worse."

Rick let out a low sigh (he knew you well now), nudging off his jacket and hanging it squarely on your shoulders without hesitation. His eyes trailed over you wearing it for a moment, a small look in his eyes that you couldn't name. All shiny as his lips quirked up just a smidgen.

"You don't have to do that," you objected, but it was quiet and weak.

"I want to," he replied, simply.

You couldn't argue with that. Hell, you didn't think you could argue with him anymore-

Rick interrupted the thought, eyebrows furrowed in that kind of way you knew to be worried, "What do ya mean 'kinda'?"

You took a second, staring out into the night -listening to the silence.

"My mind won't stop," you clarified, "-sometimes it's... things I've done, and other times it's... things that I just can't seem to figure out."

"What's it today?"

You pursed your lips a minute, before answering, "Something I can't figure out."

He stared at you, blue eyes flickering along your face in a hazy sort of way. It made something unfurl in your chest that you'd tried to keep shoved down, "Is 'ere anythin' I can do to help?"

You ran the idea through your head a few times, and let your eyes match him a few more. You aren't entirely sure why, but talking to Rick fel a little like he'd never judge you. Even though he had before, it was... it was now. Things were very different.

"Can I ask you a question?" you spoke, then, deflecting a little.

"Shoot," he responded, almost instantly. ( A little like he'd do anything you'd ask.)

"What happened to us?"

Rick's eyebrows furrowed, and you took it as a motion to keep talking, to explain. So, you did.

"We used to-" you dropped your hands on your lap, and stared out into the Alexandrian streets, "-We used to scream at each other until our faces turned red. We couldn't stand each other, and now..."

"'At ain't a good thing?" he questioned, something in his tone a little disappointed (it made your head swirl a little), "-'At it changed, I mean."

"It is," you reassured, facing him a second, "-but I just... Isn't it confusing?"

Rick stayed silent a second, eyes smoothing along your face. Just looking, like maybe he thought you were beautiful (just like you did on that day), or maybe like he never wanted to forget what you looked like.

"No."

You pressed your lips together.

"Don't get me wrong," he clarified with a smile, "-I hated ya once, a long time ago. But 'is? Now? It makes sense."

You asked before you could think about it, "What is 'this'?"

He just stared at you a second, something flickering through his eyes, careful and considerate. Something warm. The warmth you kept seeing now, the one you tried to avoid.

"You," he answered, vaguely, "-Us."

"What does that mean?" you asked, your confusion was ever-so-clear. This was all things you didn't understand.

He didn't say anything, as you stared out into the streets -watching some of the porch lights flicker. The night sky was still dark, so you weren't really worried about the hour.

And then, you felt calloused fingers on your chin -guiding you back to his eyes. The thoughts cleared out of your head.

"Y/N, you drive me fuckin' crazy," he laughed a little, and you felt your eyebrows furrow, "-not just in a frustratin' sorta way. You... I worry about ya like crazy, I think of ya like crazy... I care 'bout ya like crazy-"

Your heart skipped a beat.

"-an' I... I love ya like crazy."

Your lips felt stitched shut, as he just smiled at you -something in his eyes that you could see now. You could identify.

"Ya poke and prod at me until I'm reelin', yeah, but-" he pressed his lips together, eyes shimmering across your face, "-I wouldn't 'ave it any other fuckin' way. An' I mean 'at. I just... I'm not me without ya annoyin' the shit out of me. Without ya callin' me out on my shit."

You laughed, something burning the backs of your eyes, "I am the only one who would do that, huh?"

"Ya are," he grinned at you, and you felt something in your chest squeeze tight.

It felt clear then, abundantly clear.

"I love you too, Grimes."

He grinned, the big kind that crinkled at the eyes, "Thought so."

You rolled your eyes, with no bite, "Oh shut up, sheriff. I could still kick your ass, and you would deserve it."

He laughed, the genuine kind -hand coming to cradle your cheek, "Still, don't doubt it, sweetheart."

You smiled, and noticed just how close the two of you were. He only seemed to be roaming closer, and it made your heartbeat pick up in your chest a little. Before you could stop it, your eyes dipped down to his lips.

He grinned again, the kind that rattle down to your core, all handsome and shiny white teeth. And then, he started moving closer, his own eyes dipping to your lips.

"Ya kno', I can think of a way to get me to shut up."

"Can you?" you teased, quiet between the two of you.

He just hummed, distracted. It made something in your stomach stir.

"I am pretty desperate for you to," you remarked -playfully.

Rick busted into laughter, a loud kind that you barely ever heard from him. It made something in your chest shimmer, proud. You kind of wanted to hear that forever. And now, maybe you could.

The thought made you grin, as you leaned forward, impatiently, and connected your lips to his. It was just a press of lips, but you did feel him lean into it. Before you could get far, he laughed even more, breaking off the kiss, and it made you laugh.

"'Course ya can't wait for one second," he chuckled -playfully, "-You've always been so damn impatient."

"Oh, fuck you, Grimes," you laughed into the night, "-You're lucky I don't-"

And this time, he shut you up.

#its griming time #rick grimes #stuff n' thangs #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x y/n fanfiction #twd #twd rick grimes #rick grimes fanfiction #he's such a pretty liar

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xzhdjsj · 1 day

Text

Dress Me, Then Kiss Me

Isaac x Reader

Isaac's in love with his model Designer x Model AU

Idea is based on something my best friend said and I couldn't stop thinking about it but with Isaac and Pickle! She once told me she'd design clothes and I'd model for her if our lives don't work out 🥹 She's never gonna see this BUT IF YOU DO FIND MY ACCOUNT BITCH LEAVE GET OUT OF HERE THIS ISNT FOR YOU I KNOW YOUR ASS BE SNEAKING AROUND (i love you tho)

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Rhoades, a popular name in the fashion industry, an iconic brand and company, and it's blooming new designer, Isaac Rhoades. The company was founded and built by his mother who took the fashion industry by the neck and dominated runways with her stunning designs and creative eye for clothing. Naturally, Isaac was inspired by his mother's dedication and innovative approach, this is the reason he is the talented designer he is today.

From an early age he found himself immersed in her magazines and sketchbooks, in awe of what her hands were capable of. The same two hands that held and fed him, were also able to transform raw fabrics into beautiful pieces of clothing- into art. From a young age he knew what he wanted in his life, he wanted to be like her.

Though, Isaac doesn't follow exactly in her footsteps. When his mother entrusted the position to him, Isaac steered the company in a slightly different direction, adding a modern twist to the classic, elegance that was already their image. An evolution that maintained the brand's morals while remaining classy. Much like you, which is why you became his ambassador.

Isaac first laid eyes on you at an interview he sat in on, and to this day, he thanks whatever higher power had his mother insist he selected models himself. When he saw you, he just knew he had to have you. The way you carried yourself, your captivating smile and overall aura was unlike anything he's ever seen before yet perfectly aligned with the vision he had for Rhoades. And somehow, even though you carried yourself with such grace and poise, you were able to interact with the people around you in a laid-back manner complemented your personality seamlessly.

You didn't officially speak to Isaac until much later, after you've walked shows and campaigns for the brand. You swore he was going to fire you, but he offered the complete opposite, a promotion. Not just any promotion- Isaac wanted YOU to be the face of his brand. It changed your career forever, and now you work for Rhoades and Rhoades only.

Since then, Isaac has become a close friend of yours. Often, he'd reach out to you for advice and opinion on his newest ideas and design, or to just sit and chat over tea while he brainstorms ideas.

What you didn’t know was that Isaac loved having you there because his ideas were all about you. They revolved around you. With you sitting in the same room as him, it was easy to imagine colours that would complement your skin colour or designs that would suit your figure. Having spent so much time with him, the spark between you two was undeniable, but neither of you acted on it. Not until now.

Impatient to see you, Isaac turns to the next best thing, a number of interviews you've done and random behind the scenes videos all carefully sorted into a playlist. He took the opportunity to look at the last video he had added but didn't get a chance to watch.

He clicks the play button, spinning his chair around to grab his pencil. The video quickly fills his screen, your smile fills his screen. You were walking along a crowded street, navigating your way through a sea of reporters and cameras.

"Excuse me! What is it like being the face of Rhoades?" A woman yells.

"A dream, that's the best way I could describe it." You tell her before continuing forward.

"Isaac rarely ever shows up to public events, do you know what that is?" Someone questions as you pass by.

"That's a question you'll need to ask him darling, I have no idea." You laugh, keeping your eyes focused on the person you're talking to.

That ticked Isaac off, it always does, the way you look at reporters.

"Why do you think Rhoades fits you so well? Is Mr. Rhoades catering his designs to you?" The question striked your interest and your face lit up.

"Oh, that's a good question! But no, I don't think I'm that special," you giggled, flashing the camera a charming smile. "I think I was selected because I fit into the aesthetic? I guess? of the brand, you know?"

Isaac scoffs at his screen, at the way your eyes gleamed with genuine interest and unspoken sincerity at these people who you don't even know. He'd never admit it, but the jealousy is boiling over inside him and he wishes you looked at him like that. He wants you to look at him that way. He wishes you knew the amount of inspiration you gave him, and how special you were to his brand. While he doesn't stray from the legacy his mother carved, he seems to be carving you alongside her creations.

You continued along, finally at the door of the building you were approaching.

As you're about to step inside someone shouted behind you, "What are you wearing today?"

You turn around with a playful smile, "I'll give you a hint. It starts with 'R'." With a wink, you disappeared behind the doors and the video ends.

He loved that. Of course, he hated that it wasn't directed at him, but your playful attitude always made his heart beat a little fast, even if it was in his screen. Isaac throws his head back, the back of his palm against his eyes as he lets the chair spin freely.

"What is happening to me?" He sighs, only to be disturbed by a knock on his door.

You didn't wait for him to answer, pushing the door open and marching in.

"Isaac! Good morning!" You greet him with a broad smile and a box of his favourite pastries.

Isaac hurries to straighten his posture, sitting up and stuttering a response. "G-good morning"

"So I know you said you wanted to get the ball rolling on that outfit for the gala in a few months, but you've worked so hard," you whined, emphasizing your words with a small pout, "I think you should take a break for today and we can just- I dunno- chill and have some breakfast!"

"That's really sweet of you but I wanted to at least start sketching today."

"Awww come on," you threw your bag on the round sofa in his office and take a seat, "Let's at least take a break for this morning, kay?"

You stare at him, patiently waiting for a response. He hesitates, then lets out a sigh. "Fine you win, breakfast it is."

You silently cheer, knowing that he probably skipped breakfast as he sometimes does.

"Uh I forgot to get us something to drink though." You laugh nervously.

Isaac shakes his head, "Stay here I'll go get us something from the kitchen."

He opens the door, giving you one last look before disappearing outside.

You stayed in the same spot as you waited, but it didn't take long for boredom to set in, so you got up from your seat to walk around his office as if you haven't seen it hundreds of times already. This time however, something was different. The video paused on his laptop looked very familiar, so you move closer, taking a seat in his chair to investigate. And what do you know? It's you! It's a video of you.

"Why's he looking at a video of me?" You mumble to yourself, and the doors slowly opens in front of you.

"I decided to make us some coffee. Tea would've been nice too, but I couldn't find the-" He stops mid-sentence, realising his mistake.

"You're looking at videos of me?" You tilt your head to the side, giving him a lopsided grin.

"Wait that's not what it looks like!" He rushes over to close the tab.

"Really? Are you stalking me Isaac?"

"Nonsense, those are videos released to the public." He huffs.

"Oh, so what is it then? Do you just like looking at me?" You tease, unaware of the ladder you were climbing up. "Imagine the media got ahold of this!" You smirk, “‘Isaac Rhoades infatuated with his Employee!’ Quite a headline, isn't it?"

You laugh at yourself, amused by your own words.

"And what if they did find out? What if they did publish something like that? Would it be wrong for me to be 'infatuated with you?'" He quotes, leaning down slightly to face you.

"I was just jo-"

"That doesn’t answer my question, Pickle. Would it be wrong if I did have a crush on you?"

"I- I don't", you swallow your words, unsure of how to answer him.

"You don't?" He questions waiting for a response that never comes.

"How about this," Isaac pulls the chair closer to him by the armrests until your right under his nose. "Would you be against it?"

His face is serious, and his eyes are intense, focused on you. It makes your heart speed up and your thoughts tangle.

"I... wouldn't" You whisper, your voice barely audible.

"I didn't get that." He smirks, tilting his head slightly.

"I said I wouldn't." You repeat, gazed fixed on his lips.

"Good, because I do."

"Wha-" He cuts you off with a gentle kiss and your hands reach up to grab onto of his shirt.

"I've been wanting to tell you for so long." He grumbles. "I hate the way you look at all those reporters like they matter so much when they don't. I want you to keep looking at me like that because I matter to you right?"

He nudges you for an answer, placing a kiss against your ear.

"You do," you gently tug at his shirt, pulling his lips down to yours. "You mean so much to me."

He obliges, kissing you again. His fingers work their way into your hair, thumb gently caressing your cheek. You're so lost in the moment, butterflies fluttering in your chest like you were a lovesick teenager all over again. Isaac pulls you closer, determined to keep you close for as long as possible but unfortunately, there's a knock on the door that interrupts you both.

"Isaac" The sweet voice outside calls, pushing the door open while both you and Isaac scramble away from each other.

"Oh- you're here too dear? How are you?" His mother smiles at you, pulling your gaze from his laptop as though you were focused on it all along. "Come give me a hug!"

You get out of Isaac's chair to walk over to her with open arms. She gives you a kiss on the cheek before tucking a strand of your hair behind your ears. "Your hair is a little messy, and your face is all warm, are you okay dear? Are you not feeling well?" She asked, worry laced in her voice.

"No no I'm okay! I promise."

"Oh then how-" Her eyes move between your flushed cheeks and then to Isaac- who has his back turned to his mother as he mindlessly skims through files. It was rather obvious he was pretending to look for something. "You know, I think I'll just come back later. I wouldn’t want to interrupt you two."

She smiles then nods at you before leaving the room. As the door clicked shut behind her, you sink into the sofa, sighing in relief.

"That was close! Did you think she knew?" You asked looking over to Isaac.

"I have no idea." He replies, walking across the room to settle beside you. "And I'm sorry, I should've been more careful and locked the door."

"I don't think either of us knew that was going to happen." You assured him, intertwining you fingers with his, and offering a comforting smile. "So, what now?"

"Now, I'd like to ask you to go out with me, maybe later tonight, after our meeting if you have some time?" He takes your hand up to his lips, pressing a kiss on the back of it.

"I'd love that." You reply, looking at him with eyes full of adoration.

"I'd also like to kiss you again, but the coffee is getting cold."

You laugh at his, opting to kiss him on the cheek for now.

#zsakuva #sakuverse #asmr #isaac rhoades #zsakuva isaac #isaac x reader

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