#For real though thank you for your support in the last weeks you really are an amazing person

[savingcrxws]

EYES ON FIRE | maybe someday

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synopsis. you and carmen just keep bumping into each other.

word count. 4.3k (gah damn)

warnings. language, hardly proofread again i'm sorry its an addiction

authors note. thank u guys so much for the support in these previous chapters! it’s really amazing to me that u guys enjoyed it so much! i would recommend listening to maybe someday by the cure for this chapter!

“Yeah, Sugar. The appointment is booked for Thursday, the reps will probably be coming in at like…three o’clock,” you mutter, flipping through the manila folder absolutely stuffed with documents and sticky notes. 

You pursue your lips at all you had to get done within this week alone–sign installation permit, permit to replace the hot water heater, permit to fix the ventilation systems, reapply for occupancy capacity signs because of the restaurants lack of other permits, and holy shit…

You completely forgot to schedule the follow-up appointment with the BACP consultant. 

You groan, slamming the thick folder into your forehead, the papers thwacking against your skull. Natalie sounds startled on the other end of the phone, no doubt hearing the sound on her end of the call. She questions if you’re okay, and you only respond with a gentle hum before tossing the folder back down on the office table. 

“Hey, Suge, do you think I can call you back later? I need to schedule a follow-up consultation with Raquel before another rep hops on my ass about the boiler replacement.” 

“Of course, hun, call me back whenever you can,” Sugar starts and you can hear some papers flicking in her side of the call as well.

You had managed to convince her to work from home more often, worried that all the stress from the demolition inside would affect her pregnancy and her overall wellbeing. After some back and forth, she had begrudgingly agreed to spend two days working on the project from the comfort of her own couch. 

And even though she complains still, you know she appreciates she has a little bit more time off of her feet. 

“Don’t work yourself too hard, okay, Bug?” 

You nod, even though you know she can’t see you. “Same for you, Bear.” Sugar hums once again before you both give your goodbyes and end the call. 

You expel all of the air out of your chest in a large puff as you slide down the office chair.

After signing onto Team Bear, your new home-away-from-home had been this tiny office in the back of the restaurant. For the most part, no one came in and disrupted your work, which allowed you to have your head shoved into piles of paperwork, be stuck on phone calls, and be forced to reread legal jargon for hours on end with little interruption. 

Well, as little interruption as there could be with the restaurant quite literally falling apart around you. 

Thankfully, everyone was very respectful of your work in helping the developing business. You were practically putting every ounce of knowledge that you learned from both college and the real-world experience (including connections within the industry) to help push the restaurant closer to the deadline. All the while still dealing with your other commitments to other businesses that you had prior to signing on to this project.

Staying at The Bear for eight hours a day had its benefits, though.

For example, there was always something entertaining going on in the background. Like last Tuesday, when Fak had decided to send a sledgehammer directly into the only remaining wall of the office–sending bits and pieces of drywall onto your clothes.

Another benefit of being stuck in that office chair is that you had an excuse to ignore everyone around you. And by everyone, you really mean Carmen.

After the awkward office run-in last week, the two of you hardly spoke to each other. Sure, there was the ‘hellos’ and ‘goodbyes’ that you threw to each other and the words you exchanged when you caught him up on the status of licensing, but you two had yet to have an actual conversation.

It was clear that the both of you were still walking on eggshells around each other—and everyone could see it. But you had an inkling feeling that Carmen had been wanting to say something, judging by the short glances you sometimes catch him throwing in your direction.

Kinda similar to the one that he’s giving you right now.

You feel the heat of his stare on your face before you see it. He’d been staring at you for a couple moments now, long enough for you to no longer consider it an inquisitive glance.

You peek up from the folder and make solid eye contact with Carmen through the hole in the wall. The man flushes almost immediately, the red color sinking past his collar. You purse your lips and give a small nod of acknowledgment and he stutters in his spot.

And then he’s turning away.

Like he wasn’t the one just staring at you a moment ago.

You roll your eyes and turn back to your original position in the seat. Picking the folder up again, you flick to the papers listing the requirements for the next fire suppression test.

“Men,” you mutter, before picking up your phone and making a phone call.

Three days later, the office is completely demolished and your work revolving around The Bear has been moved to a family-owned coffee shop two blocks over.

In the short span of time, all of the walls in the store had been busted down and the restaurant had practically turned into a hazardous wasteland. And since construction was too far out of your pay grade, you decided to leave the heavy lifting up to everyone else.

“Alright, permit done!” You throw your hands up in the air, your theatrics catching the attention of a couple next to you. You could hardly care for the stares, though, you had been working on getting that permit for the past four days straight. Slamming your laptop shut, you pack up your bags and head off to the cash register to buy another coffee before you go.

While you wait for your drink, you decide to scroll aimlessly through your phone to kill some time.

“Oh shit,” you hear a voice utter behind you, and you barely have time to process the word before something ice cold is running down your back. “Fuck, I’m fucking sorry, I didn’t even see you—“

You gasp on reflex, taking a step forward and shivering. The person who spilled their drink on you is stuttering out apologies. The liquid seeps into the jacket you were wearing and you pull it off immediately.

“Yo, what the fuck, dude,” you curse, watching the large stain of coffee spread even farther across your jacket. “Watch where the hell you’re walking—”

In the middle of trying to give the perpetrator a piece of your mind, you failed to recognize the familiar sound of the voice that was spewing apology out of apology. But in a second, your eyes met a recognizable set of blue and you halted your words.

In front of you stands Carmen Berzatto. In his signature colored sweater and a half-spilled cup of coffee in his hand.

And he looks petrified.

It seems he didn’t realize just who was the unlucky victim to his americano attack either until you turned around. His mouth agape, he utters out a jumbled apology, glancing back at you, your stained jacket, and the cup in his hand like his brain was still trying to understand what just happened.

“Uh-uh, fuck, sorry, I swear this wasn’t on purpose,” he rambles, placing his cup on the counter behind you and grabbing some napkins right after. He steps back towards you and shoves his hand of napkins to you. “Here, shit, I’m so sorry.”

You sigh, taking the napkins from him, noting the slight tremor that persisted in his hands as you did so. Taking in a slow breath, you close your eyes and count to ten before responding. “It’s okay, Carmen. Don’t worry about it.”

And even though you tried to maintain your peace, you can hear the annoyance seeping out of your words. Carmen glances around the counter before looking back at you and your soaked jacket. You know he probably wants to apologize some more, but honestly, one more apology might land him with a punch to the gut. 

Just as he opens his mouth, you raise your free hand, silencing him immediately. You shake your head in dismissal before taking the napkins offered to you and blotting the coffee out of the fabric of your jacket. Carmen simply stood in his place, watching you, seeing if he could do anything to redeem himself in this situation. 

However, after they called your name for your drink order, you dumped the used napkins in the trash, took your drink and hightailed it out of the café without one more word to the man. 

After the coffee shop incident, you swear that you started to see Carmen everywhere. 

You needed a quiet place to plan outside of your house so you went to one of the local libraries. Guess who’s walking outside the building?

You need a late night snack and decide to hit up the corner store. Guess who’s in the refrigerated section?

Hell, you decide to stay late at The Bear for some last minute checkups? Guess who forgot to grab a few things before leaving that night?

You swear that before you hopped on The Bear train, you never even saw a glimpse of the man. Sure, you lived relatively near the restaurant, but Chicago is fucking huge, there’s no way you would run into one of the few people that you’re trying to avoid. 

Absolutely not, apparently. 

Finally finishing up the weekly budget report and estimate for the following weeks till open, you decide to take a step away from work for a second and give your brain some time to breath. 

“Hey, Syd, if anyone needs me, I’m outside taking a smoke break, ‘kay,” you yell across the restaurant, receiving a thumbs up from her from the other side of the room. “Be back in 15!”

Reaching into your bag, you pull out a pack of cigs and a lighter before heading to the back entrance of the restaurant. You place the cigarette between your lips and head to the backdoor. Stepping out and around the alley to the designated smoke corner, you fiddle with the lighter switch, hearing the light sizzle but seeing no flames emerge. 

You groan, flicking the lighter again and again and still no lig–

“Umm, uh, you need a light?”

You scream, your heart almost skipping a beat and falling out on the concrete below you. In your alarm, both your cigarette and the lighter drop on to the ground. "Shit," you mutter and throw a glance over at whoever had scared the living shit out of you and, surprise suprise . . .

There was Carmen, standing in the alley a few feet away from the door. One leg was kicked up to rest his foot against the wall behind him and a cigarette hung loosely between his fingers. His eyes trailed across you for a second, then he glanced at the cigarette on the ground before taking another draw from his own and staring out the wall in front of him.

If you had half of the energy, you would tell him off for scaring the shit out of you and book it out of the enclosed space.

Lucky for Carmen, however, you really needed that cigarette.

Reaching back into your bag once more, you pull out another cig and walk slowly over to the man. Your steps gain his attention once again and when your eyes met you gestured to the lighter hanging out of his cooking apron.

He grabs the lighter and hands it to you. As you reach out to grab it, your fingers brush against his knuckles. Some quick thought in the back of your head wishes that that physical interaction lasted a little longer, but you're quick to shoo that away into the deep recesses of your mind.

Lighting your cigarette, you hand the lighter back to him before taking a drag. Blowing the smoke out, you slid down the wall until you could lean back into a squat against it.

The two of you just stand there, in complete silence aside from the occasional cough from an improper pull. This quiet isn't nearly as awkward as the first run-in the two of you had. Maybe it's because of the nicotine or maybe it's because continuously running into Carmen over these past days had subconsciously made you a little more comfortable with his presence.

. . .

Nah, it definitely had to be the nicotine.

You glance up at Carmen, who continues to smoke even though his stick had turned into a bud a while ago. You make note of the new tattoos that run down his arms and hands, eyes stopping at the rose flower tattoo on his left hand.

You remember when he got that one done with you at the parlor for his eighteenth birthday.

Subconsciously, you rub at the matching rose on your thigh before sighing and focusing back on your cigarette. Young, dumb decisions, you think.

Above you, Carmen watches your focus retreat back and purses his lips. In all honesty, Carmen usually never finishes a whole cigarette, but he really needed an excuse to stay out here longer with you.

These past couple of days had been tormenting him just as much as it had been you, albeit for different reasons. Everytime Carmen ran into you, whether it be in that cafe or that random grocery store that one early morning, he was plagued with memories of everything that he had fucked up.

Not just the relationship that he had fucked, but the happiness that he had stolen from the both of you.

And he had so desperately been trying to apologize, but every time you saw his face, you would get that look on your own. That dread, the anxiousness, that annoyance. That anger.

Whenever he saw that expression on your face, he would get too choked up to say anything of significance. A simple 'hey" would be all that would leave his mouth. Either that or he would stutter like he was a fucking kid again and embarrass himself in front of you like he seems to be doing constantly lately.

Carmen sighs, taking a final hit from his cigarette before stomping it out on the ground. By all previous experience, Carmen would book it out of the area by now, but something in his gut was telling him to stay this time.

Glancing down at you once more, he sees that you have taken to scrolling through your phone to kill the time. He bites the corner of his lip and decides to sit against the wall like you.

Instinctively, you toss him a questioning glance but when he didn't make any move to speak or gesture towards you, you shook your head and went back to whatever video had popped up on your feed.

Fuck it, he thought.

"I'm sorry."

You halt in the middle of your smoke, nearly coughing on the fumes but managing to swallow it. You look over at Carmen inquisitively, wondering where the hell that apology came from. The dirty blonde was wringing his hands, mouth opening and shutting as if he was trying to get the words out.

"Sorry for the, uh," he mutters, casting a quick glance in your direction to assure himself that you were listening. "Sorry for the, for uh-You know I didn't-I don't know how-"

"Yo, Carmen," you interrupt the world vomit that he was spewing, tossing your cigarette down before snuffing out the light with your shoe. You center your focus back on the man next to you, who seemed to only have you in his attention. "Just say what you want to say. No bullshit."

Your blunt words seem to ground Carmen long enough for him to gather his thoughts. He nods his head rapidly in that way he does when he's clearly overwhelmed before he clears his throat. He takes in a large inhale and clears his throat, ready to speak again.

"I want to apologize. For everything. For how much of an jackoff I was back then, and for how much I am right now," Carmen stars, eyes staring solidly into yours to show just how serious he is. "I didn't deserve you, and you did nothing to deserve the way that we ended."

You feel something burn the back of your throat at the mention of the end of your relationship. The total radio silence from him for the days prior, and just when you had managed to gather the courage to ask the question of just what the hell are we doing, Carmy, you were cast aside like nothing.

He was right, you didn’t deserve that.

Pushing back the feelings bubbling up in your chest, you nod your head to signal that you were listening.

"I-I, it's no excuse, but I was really going through some serious shit. And I really felt that if I cut everyone out of my life, I could actually get a second to breathe you know," Carmen pauses and you open your mouth to speak, but he continues. "I-I just know you deserved-you deserve better. But seeing you in this restaurant day-in and day-out, working away to help my sister, my crew--help me? I just felt even more like a piece of shit."

He turns fully towards you now and you can see his eyes turning red from the emotion he was clearly holding behind his words. "You didn't deserve what I did, and you definitely don't deserve to be cleaning up my messes now."

"You deserved the world, and I'm sorry I couldn't give it to you."

His last words send a sharp pang into your chest. Here you two sat, sitting next to each other, the distance between you two seemed to be filled with words unsaid. You stare into his eyes a little longer, at a loss for what to say completely.

On one hand, you wanted to reject his apology, tell him to fuck off and leave him alone in this alleyway. He would deserve it after everything.

But he has that familiar kicked puppy-dog look in his eyes and he's chewed his lip red, and he's actually sorry.

You sigh, leaning your head back to rest against the wall behind you. Staring up at the sky, you trace the shapes of the clouds above as you collect your thoughts.

"Yeah," you start, nodding your head to yourself. Carmen tenses up at the ambiguity behind both your words and your tone. He would have to have his own head shoved up his ass if he didn't realize that you had every right to refuse his plea for forgiveness. Frankly, that's exactly what he was expecting you to do.

"Yeah, okay. I can forgive you, Berzatto."

Carmen's heart sinks into his guts, mouth slightly agape in pure shock. "You-you can?"

You give a small smile, turning your head to face the man. "Yeah, Carmen, I accept your apology."

The dirty blonde opens his mouth again but you put a hand up in the space between you, effectively shutting him up for a second.

"But," you trail, "I'm gonna forward you that dry cleaning bill from that cafe, asshat. I've been trying to get that shit out for days now."

Carmen flushes a bright red at the mention of the coffee shop run-in you two had, a broken chuckle leaving his mouth at the obvious teasing tone in your voice. You were joking with him, for the first time in years, you two had managed to glimpse at the level of comfortability that you once shared.

Carmen chuckles again, running a hand through his curls. "Yeah, well, can I raincheck that until after the restaurant starts making money? I'm kinda flat fucking broke right now."

You giggle at the honesty behind his words. "Yeah, I ran those calculations by the way. Have fun being flat broke for at least three months after The Bear opens."

"Shit," Carmen mutters, a grin still on his face.

"Yeah, shit." You nod in his direction before pushing yourself off your crouched position on the ground. "Anyway, I'm gonna head inside to get back on that shit. Fak's fucking electric guy keeps flaking on us."

Carmen's eyes follow your form as you stand, holding eye contact with you when you glance back down at him. "Yeah, yeah, I should probably meet up with Syd for the chaos menu anyway."

He hurriedly stands up, wiping his hands on his work pants. After he finishes, he looks at you once again, noting the small smile on your face. For a second, he swears his heart skips a beat.

"For the record, Carmy," you play with the nickname on your tongue, having not said it in quite some time. Carmen flushes before nodding for you to continue. The small on your face falls for a second as you look at him. "You pull that shit with me again, I'm sicking the dogs on your ass. Seriously."

Carmen clears his throat, straightening up at the more serious tone of your voice. Although you were not nearly as angry looking at him as before, he knew that you were serious. There were no more apologies after this, no more fuckups.

You look at him expectantly, waiting for some form of acknowledgment.

He nods. "Yes, chef."

After the conversation outside The Bear, you and Carmen seemed to flow together much easier than before. Granted there was the occasional stray glance casted in your direction from the man, but overall, the two of you were on much more agreeable terms.

The rest of the crew seemed to notice the absence of uncertain tension between the two of you. You explained to Tina, Richie, and Sugar that you two had simply talked it out and were no longer on "spiteful ex" terms.

Richie, being the annoying man that he is, insisted that something else must've happened--to which you responded with a firm shoulder check and yet another middle finger.

Overall, the two of you seemed to only talk about business stuff, which made it easier for conversations to flow. Less personal, more concrete talks.

"Alright, Carmy, we got that certificate of occupancy, right?" You question, running down the legal checklist once again. When you heard no response, you asked again, only to be ignored again. Finally looking up from your screen, you glance up at the man, trying to figure out what could have possibly distracted him this time.

He's glancing, moreso glaring, down at his phone, watching it ring but making no moves to pick it up. He's spaced out almost, like he's lost in his thoughts.

You clear your throat and decide to try his name again. "Carmen!"

He shoots up a little and looks at you, muttering an apology out as he clicks his phone off and slides it into his back pocket. "What were you asking?"

"Umm, I was trying to see if you got that certificate of occupancy from Cicero mailed in," you raise an eyebrow at him. "You know, the one we need to get that other big, shiny certificate that shows that we can legal conduct business in the state of Illinois? That certificate?"

"Uhh, yeah, yeah. Mailed it in the other day, yeah."

You squint at his weird responses before shaking your head and diving back into your work. "Well, on another note, I've been speaking with a liason down at the office and he said we can have our second fire suppression test in two weeks instead of the project four."

Carmen walks up to the foldable chair you were sitting in, peering over your shoulder to look at your screen. He rests his hand against the back of your chair unconsciously and you can feel the heat of his body radiating off of him. You clear your throat and lean forward a little to get some distance between the two of you.

"Who's that going to?" The man points to an email that you are in the middle of drafting. Your eyes follow and land on the email you were writing to one of your school buddies. "Oh that? I'm just messaging one of my old classmates from college about an idea I had about our issues with that retail food license thing."

Carmen humms, peeking down at you as you explained the process you were thinking of going through. Though your eyes were stuck on the screen, clicking through different documents as you continued your explanation, Carmen's eyes were glued to your face.

To him, this all felt like some weird dream that he was having. His former high school sweetheart, sitting in his restaurant, talking all kinds of smart talk that he could barely understand, practically pressed against him. Although he didn't move over to your chair with the intent to press against you, he definitely noticed the proximity that you two shared.

Life had been a whirlwind these past weeks, but he felt that when he was near you that a lot of those anxieties he often has screaming in his head quieted down a little. He tried to chalk it up to the confidence that he had in your skills, but even though you are incredibly talented in your work, he knew that it was something more than that.

Something that he had to swallow down.

"Carmy, you motherfucker, are you even listening to me?" You call out, turning more in your chair and fixing him with an annoyed glare. Carmen swallows before nodding his head. "Ye-yeah, you have a plan to get that retail food license and alcohol seller's license at once right?"

You hum, giving him a once over again before turning in your seat. "Exactly. I think that my buddy Stephen can help us with that fire suppression test, he knows a thing or two--"

Carmen's eyes trace down your eyes, nose, and lips, noting the signature bite marks you left on your bottom one. He runs a tongue across his own before carding a hand through his hair to collect himself.

He was so fucked.

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[cuubism]

emotional support part 3 of physical therapy au

--

It is not exactly a short walk to Dream's flat, but Hob drops him off at his door anyway. Dream can't remember the last time someone did something like that for him. Took so much time just to make him feel safer.

He should just thank Hob and go in, but instead he hesitates in the entryway. He can't deny how it makes him feel, Hob's kindness, and interest in Dream's art, and then him jumping to Dream's defense so viscerally and unapologetically. Hob is... good. Kind. Dream does not know if he deserves it, but for a moment he allows himself to want it.

"You going to be okay?" Hob asks. His eyes are so kind. And Dream wants. It's been so long since he's wanted.

He leans in to kiss Hob and--

--Hob catches him with a hand against his chest.

Dream jumps back, shame coiling hot in his throat. Even when he thinks someone kind might want him, he is still only misreading--

"Dream," Hob says. His expression is still kind, though his smile is a bit pained. "I can tell you're spiraling, love."

That word again. Why would Hob say it if he does not mean it?

"If I am wholly wrong and you do not feel anything then please just say so," Dream sniffs, trying and failing not to feel completely stupid.

"You're not," Hob says--which catches Dream before he can fall completely into the net of melancholy that had begun to entrap him. "I'm just--" he runs a hand through his hair with a self-deprecating laugh, his general self-assuredness slipping for the first time Dream has seen. "I'm trying to be sensible."

Dream doesn't understand. It's true that Dream is not exactly a sensible choice in partner, that's been proven, but--

"It just doesn't look very good does it?" Hob continues. "Chase off your asshole ex only to come onto you at your own home? That's real respectful, isn't it?"

"I came onto you," Dream points out. Hob wants to be respectful of Dream? The bar is currently low when it comes to respecting Dream. Dream thinks he would rather have the kindness than the respect. "And I do not mind."

"Well, that's the problem, isn't it?" Hob says. "Look, believe it or not, and you'll probably believe it, but I've been widely known to be impulsive as hell. But I still don't want to be the guy jumping on you the moment you get out of a bad relationship."

This... had not truly occurred to Dream. "I do not think you will be like him."

Hob takes his hand then, the bad one, the one he's fixed. He does it carefully. "No, I know. But I'd hazard you didn't think he'd be like that before you got together, either."

"I... suppose not." Hob is different, though. He knows it.

"Let's just finish our work with your hand first, yeah?" Hob says, squeezing his hand lightly. He seems genuine. He does not seem like he is just making up reasons to turn Dream down. "I think you need to get back to some normalcy, and then you'll know for sure if you really want this."

"I do want this," Dream says. He does not want to lose touch with that feeling. Of wanting something for himself.

"Then you'll still feel that way later on, hm?"

Dream can't find fault with his argument. Though he can't help but still feel that little curl of shame. Embarrassment.

Hob raises Dream's hand to his lips and kisses his knuckles. Dream's breath catches.

"Goodnight, Dream," Hob says, letting his hand go again. "I'll see you next week."

And with that, and a smile, he leaves Dream standing in his entryway.

Dream presses his hand to his chest. Perhaps Hob is right. Perhaps he is too... fragile... for this right now. He certainly feels fragile. But Hob makes him feel less so. Not more.

But Hob is not the one who ended up in a relationship with someone who reacted to disappointment by smashing his hand with a hammer. So perhaps Dream should heed his relationship advice, and not his own.

He retreats into his empty flat. Shuts the door, locks it, deadbolts it, and shoves a heavy box of unpacked books in front of it for good measure. Then sits on the floor where there should be a couch and takes out his paints. It still hurts his hand to hold the brush for any length of time. But even to this day, it's the only thing that soothes him.

~~

It's just typical that the time Hob really wants someone is the time he decides he needs to be responsible for once in his life. But he just... he needs time. He needs to know that Dream isn't just... fixating on him because Hob's actually treated him nicely when the last person who cared for him didn't. He doesn't want to do this if Dream is just using him as an emotional rebound from a bad relationship. He's become too enamored with him for that. And he's no king of ideal relationships himself, but he doesn't think it's the best time to be starting a relationship when Dream is still carrying the literal scars of the last one.

Damn if he doesn't regret turning him down, though. Just a little.

He hopes Dream doesn't decide to bail on their regular appointment. In fact, since dropping Dream home, he's been so fixated on the possibility that he fucked it all up that he's stress-cleaned his entire flat. Then he bought finger paints to see for himself how well it works as an exercise. All he's really succeeded in doing is proving that Dream is better at art with one and a half hands than Hob is with two, but maybe it'll make Dream feel better.

He brings his attempt at finger painting to their next appointment. And he's so relieved when Dream does show up. He looks a bit more balanced than he had the other day, too. The hurt in his expression when Hob had turned him down had been painful.

"I decided to try out your exercise," Hob tells him. "To prove to you how well you're doing, if nothing else." He shows him the painting.

And Dream bursts out laughing.

"Hey," Hob protests, but can't stop his smile at the joy on Dream's face. "Don't be mean about it or anything."

"What is this meant to be?" Dream asks, taking the painting and studying it.

"It's a landscape."

Dream turns it ninety degrees. Squints. "Ah, yes, I see that now."

"Well now you're just being a dick about it."

Dream only smiles, then puts the painting away in his bag.

"Oh, you're taking it with you, too?"

"You have mine," says Dream, pointing at the painting of cats that's still propped against the wall by Hob's desk. "So I will put yours on my fridge."

"Oh, great," Hob grumbles. But he can't be upset about the smile on Dream's face.

He's glad to see that putting a pause on things hasn't hurt their developing friendship. If anything it seems better. Perhaps Dream's had time to think things over, too.

"But you see, don't you?" Hob says. "Even while you're recovering, your skills are still way better."

"I... see, yes," Dream agrees, ducking his head. "I. I did try painting again. But it hurts."

Because you're probably overdoing it, Hob thinks. "How's your hand feel now?"

"...Sore," Dream admits.

"Can I see?"

Dream gives him his hand, and Hob feels victorious that it's with less hesitance than he had once done. He starts massaging Dream's palm where it feels the most tense, and watches Dream's wary expression--he must have thought Hob was just going to move his hand this way and that and make it hurt--melt into surprise.

"Do you do this with all of your clients, Hob?" he asks, weakly.

"Only the ones I really like," Hob says, and winks. Can't have Dream thinking he's not interested, after all.

Dream blushes, but lets Hob keep playing with his hand. He really does have such gorgeous hands. If Hob ever runs into that ex again he might have to do more than punch him.

"That helping?" Hob asks, and Dream nods, but he's still blushing so it's somewhat unclear in exactly what manner it's helping.

"Good," Hob says anyway. And finds he's truly hopeful that they'll get there. With Dream's dexterity, with... other things.

It's just going to take a bit of time.

#my brain is somewhere else this week and this is the only thing i feel capable of writing. not even because of fixating on it just because #it's so much simpler than my other fics 😂 this is all I am capable of handling brainpower wise #probably just need more sleep... #also dream in this universe needs sooo much therapy oh my god #dreamling #my writing #physical therapy fic #long post #cw abuse

[howtofightwrite]

If someone was shot through the thigh (Nothing major hit, clean entry/exit wounds if logistically possible, how long would it take before they could walk without an aid of some kind? I'm counting hobbling and limping as walking.

Follow Up Question: Any idea what kind of med care that would need without getting a hospital involved with it?

So, this is one of those times where the answer really is, “it depends.” While you can't walk off a gunshot wound, getting shot in the leg might not actually stop you from walking or running, though this comes with a caveat that you're not going to make it especially far. Though the answer to, “how far?” could easily be, “as far as adrenaline will carry you.” This includes cases where the bullet fractures the bone, but doesn't completely shatter it. Though, those cases are going to be extremely unpleasant (for obvious reasons.)

Actual recovery times will vary wildly depending on far too many factors, and you can end up with chronic pain that never heals. Best case, you're looking at a couple weeks before the wound heals, most of the time you're looking at a few months, and lingering pain could last for over a year (if it ever does go away.)

While this is an unusual example, the warning about not aggravating a wound still applies, and trying to hobble around after getting shot is a fantastic way to inflict more harm on yourself. Figure it will take roughly ten weeks for the meat to properly heal up, and while you might be somewhat mobile before that time, it's probably a good idea not to overly stress it before it has fully recovered.

As for medical treatment, most of that is going to be packing it with gauze and (ideally) getting dosed out of your gourd on antibiotics. Gauze is easy, and the only real concern there is keeping you from leaking blood all over the place (while also providing some protection against future infection. The gauze needs to be changed, at least, daily, and the wound will need to be packed with gauze (so, not just wrapping it around the leg.) Getting the latter without a hospital is going to be a lot harder these days. The rise of antibiotic resistant bacteria strains means that these kinds of antibiotics are kept on a much shorter leash today. Unfortunately, it's also kinda critical for the whole, “not dying,” thing.

It turns out that the whole part about a bullet being hot enough to sterilize itself is a myth, so any bacteria on the bullet, and of course, any bacteria that gets into the wound itself after the fact, will have a very easy path to infection. Deep tissue wounds like this are a hugeinfection risk, and these are the kinds of infections that can easily turn lethal.

Of course, a doctor will be better able to assess whether the injury was actually a clean through'n'through, or if something was nicked. A bullet can easily graze an artery, leading to persistent bleeding that will kill the victim without surgical assistance, but won't be fast enough to look worrying. It's just when it doesn't stop after several days of bleeding, that they might realize this is very bad.

So, again, they could potentially be on their feet immediately after being shot. How long it would take them to recover is a lot harder to assess, and if they did insist in walking around, that could make things much worse.

-Starke

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#writing reference #writing advice #writing tips #how to fight write #starke answers #starke is not a real doctor

[smooth-perceval]

“My love, my life.”

“We are going to be just fine…”

Max Verstappen x Fem!Reader

PART ONE

Max Corner

Summary: Max and reader crossed the line in their 3 year friendship, resulting in 2 positive pregnancy test. And 1 baby on the way.

Warnings: 18+ you could say smut- but it’s not very ‘Smutty’ maybe if you squint, pregnancy, swearing, Google translate, Lando being Lando, no proof read.

Key: Y/N (your name), Y/L/N (your last name), biscuit= Cookie, Lando and reader are friends for about 4 years.

Word count: 2,949

A/N: Thank you for the votes 🖤 It has motivated me to now write something 🙂 I’m seeing how this goes, I might even turn it into a series. Anddd I love dad max 🖤

The soft moans, and whispers of each others names was all that painted the walls of the vanilla hotel room. Us both sinning beyond hells gates… Something so wrong feeling so right- like we was both made perfectly for each other.

You could say it was the drink… or the pent up sexual attraction we both craved so badly from one another… either way we both bathed in the moment, showing one another what 3 years worth of “friendship” really meant.

The little touches and glances go along way… they turned into flirty comments and kisses so close to the lips if either had tilted our heads we would’ve been where we are now a lot sooner… Tonight, it turned into Max kissing that little more over, lips brushing slightly. Both breathing heavily questioning wether to go in for a second. And I did, I took the chance to grab him by the collar kissing him. Not just the once though, it turned into three or four little kisses before Max was pushing against the wall and shutting the door blindly.

So we could say Max is to blame here, Max is the reason I’m biting down onto my lip, suppressing any noise he is causing me to make- His blue eyes had me pinned, scared to turn away incase I lose this feeling- this intimacy, this entire moment.

Hovering over me, one hand holding my thigh up the other next to my head supporting himself, his bare chest on view, with only smudged lipstick stains coating him. His hair a little messy from my hands running through and tugging on every strand I could. Lips swollen from the rough kisses of need. The warmth in the room from our heavy breathing causing a thin layer of sweat over us both… and even in such a unhinged moment. He still looked perfect.

And after our night of pleasure, and we had both ‘cleaned up’ me putting on one of Max shirts, him sticking to fresh underwear. We left his room, as if we was naughty teenagers, we tiptoed down to my room, climbing into fresh bedding.

Both laying there staring at each other in complete awe, Max hand reaching up and stroking my cheek and along my jaw. Now letting the sleep slowly evade us, with my eyes closed I heard him whisper the three words I’ve always dreamt he would say… wether he did or not it still felt real to me.

“I love you”

And as if it was a reaction to the words I found myself shuffling closer to his chest. Like he was the protection I needed… the knight in shining armour in every princess story.

**3 Weeks later**

Back home, and was things awkward between me and Max? Yes. Very.

Even Lando picked up on the weird tension. Lando also being a close friend and noticing how we was both frightened to go near each other.

For me? It was scared of going near him and pushing him back into a hotel bed all over again… it was scared of getting to close and getting burned in the long run- because Max wasn’t the type of guy to stick around… not after his last breakup everything was fucked and chucked, and me unfortunately was one of them- or so it feels.

I was attending the Monaco GP, in support of Max & Lando them being my only two friends you could say.

However the weekend turned to not be the best of starts, I had picked up a stomach bug somewhere, as I’ve been sick nearly every morning, sometimes of an evening if I really give into the feeling. I realised eating something small like a biscuit would somewhat cure the sickness… it’s been horrible. I texted both Lando and Max saying I would leave my home once I had felt a bit better in myself, both sending back get well soon messages and updates on what’s happening.

I was adamant on attending the qualifying, so chomping down on a biscuit and sipping on a bottle of water I made my way to the GP. In my bag I had a little bag filled with biscuits. I wasn’t going to let a little tummy ache stop me from watching my boys-

I read online that a stomach bug doesn’t seem to be contagious after a few days, which I was praying was true. If not then I could only apologise to them and beg for forgiveness if I ruin their race…

My first stop was Lando, who was practically jumping when he saw me. Bringing me in the most tightest hug you could imagine-

“Lan- don’t I still feel like I could be sick…” mumbling I rub his back before pulling myself away.

“Oh shit- sorry… wait are you contagious?!” He jumped back holding his hands up like they would defend him.

“It says no online… if I am I’m sorry though…” pouting I shuffled about on my feet. “I just wanted to watch you both race-”

Tutting he rubbed my shoulder, before throwing an arm around both. “It’s okay, longs your not sick in here. We just washed the floors.”

Rolling my eyes I elbowed him in the ribs, “I won’t, I got my biscuits.” Patting my bag I smiled up at him. “And anyways if I was sick it’s normally first thing in the morning, or maybe later… if I stop eating these biscuits.” Eyebrows furrowed Lando tilted his head at me.

“First thing in the morning? Sounds like something else to me.” Humming a teasing tone he lead us both out the garage. Shaking my head in annoyance at him I look around. “Behave Lando.”

“I’m just saying-”

And well him just saying that had my mind reeling… what if? I couldn’t just pull out my phone and check when I was due on my ladies, Lando would see, seeing as his attached to my hip, so in my head I counted back. I should’ve started by now right? I doubt it- I think it’s next week.

Before I know it we was stopping outside red bull’s garage Lando practically screamed for Max, all the engineers turning to look up at him. Some in annoyance and some confused to why he was screaming…

And there he was- Max in all his glory shuffling his way through. Suit unzipped and hanging down at his waist, his fireproofs on show… showing every shape of his body- gulping, my eyes started to wander, slowly remembering every part of him I kissed, where the red lipstick marks were, where to touch that would make him shiver and whisper my name in a warning. As if I was triggering a ticking time bomb- I mean you could say I was that night. I was remembering it all in waves, before it was only a faint memory.

“Y/N! You made it finally…” smiling at each other he came and stood infront of us both. His hand brushing my arm slightly in a little pat/rubbing manner. Yeah it was tense… i felt like screaming, if we hadn’t pushed that boundary, it probably wouldn’t feel so awkward- I had the devil on my shoulder, shouting over the little angel, telling me I should just let him have me right here on the track and claim our own trophy, create our own ‘finish’.

Oh what have you done to me Verstappen.

Clearing his throat Lando patted my bag. “Well lets just ignore the awkwardness… She has her biscuits.” Confused Max looked between us both.

“To keep the sickness away.” Finishing Lando’s sentence with another shake of my head and a small smile at Max.

“Ah- makes sense.” Laughing a little Max turned back to the garage. “Lan I think we’re about to start quali”

“I’ll probably be back and fourth between you both- I’m just going to get some more water…” smiling a little at them both I gave a small wave. “Good luck both of you.”

Both quickly giving nods and a thanks, they ran into the garages suits getting pulled up and zipped in the process.

Now finally away from them both I checked my health app, going back to my last period…

Panic rises through me, I have been stressed so maybe it’s on its way- I’ll do a test later just in case but I’m sure it’s stress, or even many other reasonings but the one that makes sense is the one I’m praying against. I mean it’s only a week, so no panic.

But except I am panicking… Maybe I should go do a test now… put my mind at ease-

Quickly heading back out I sent a text to them both to see, incase I wasn’t back-

“Be back soon- wasn’t feeling great again.”

And then I went straight to the chemist…

Looking between test, hands shaking as I try and read the box, I finally gave up taking them both to the checkout, nervously looking around like somehow someone I knew would catch me. The lady behind the till offered a kind smile, which I quickly returned, paying for the tests and rushing out with the bag mumbling a thank you.

I felt sick again- maybe it was nerves who knew- I mean why am I panicking I have been so stressed lately it could be that- but still what if…

Once I got back to my apartment I headed straight to the bathroom fumbling with the test taking a stick from each and doing them both at the same time- Two test can’t lie…

I was pacing, doing circles around my bedroom as I bit down on my nails. Every few minutes sitting on my bed, before pacing again. It wasn’t until my alarm went off was I finally broken out of my trance. I took a few deep breaths and crept into the toilet, standing in the doorway, I rose to my tiptoes craning my neck-

My stomach dropped, and I found myself stumbling into the toilet reading both test, my head going from left to right as I held both sticks…

[2-3 Weeks] and the other [3+ weeks]

There it was the sickness again, dropping to my knees I curled myself around the toilet letting every little bit of sick come up… all the nerves building up in my body and raking through.

When I was finally able to get away from the toilet bowl, I got up brushing my teeth and washing my face… trying to stop the little tears, why am I crying? I’m terrified-

How the fuck do I tell Max?

Feeling sorry for myself, I crawled into my bed breathing in and out slowly… I am absolutely terrified.

Somewhere from my racing mind and the tossing and turning I dozed off only waking up to the sound of my door being nearly knocked down.

Rushing out of bed I head downstairs looking through the peep hole.

“Lando you knock like the police-” muttering I unlock the door letting him in.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at qualifying?” Frowning i move over to the door before turning back to look at him.

“Y/N that finished about an hour ago…” concerned flashed over his face as he brought me into a hug.

“Maybe we should go to the doctors, maybe he can get this sickness sorted…” mumbling he rubbed my back soothingly, rocking us a little.

“I know what it is Lan…” I felt it again the burning in my throat as I tried holding back the tears… my eyes welling up at even the thought.

“I know I know- but maybe he can give you something like an anti-sickness tablet?” I shook my head wiping underneath my nose with my sleeve, hand on the door handle as I went to shut it.

“Oh wait-”

“I’m pregnant…” whispering I covered my mouth hoping that if I trapped the sound it wouldn’t make it real.

Lando’s shock was evident as he stared back, hand in the air still pointing at the door, his mouth creating an ‘o’ shape.

“Did you say pregnant?” A familiar voice was heard that defiantly wasn’t Lando’s.

My head felt like it was going to snap as I looked back at the door, and once again there he was, trying to squeeze himself in the little gap I had left him from trying to shut the door…

My heart pounded as I watched him, hoping he would show some emotion to put my mind at ease but nothing… the silence in the room from us three was unbearable.

“Well congratulations!” Lando grabbed ahold of me again hugging me tight, my eyes were still glued on Max, waiting on anything. But nothing he just stood there frozen. And that somewhat annoyed me more- it was both our faults that I’m in this situation I don’t expect anything from him but the recognition.

Lando pulled away looking between us both with a smile, “So have we got uncle duties? Are you going for an early scan? Who’s the dad?”

Shaking my head at Lando I push past him, trying to get away. I would rather Max saying he doesn’t care there stand there saying nothing at all… “Y/N I didn’t mean to ask so many questions-” Lando was rushing in behind me, before more footsteps were heard and then Max was seen.

“Is it mine?” Eyebrows furrowed, was he angry? He has a right to be angry. I’m angry. Lando bursted out into a fit of laughter smacking Max’s arm “Flirting with each other doesn’t make someone pregnant you idiot.” Now both with confused looks we turned our heads looking at Lando.

“Of course it’s yours.” Shaking my head I looked back at Max.

“Are you sure?”

“What you trying to accuse me of here Max?”

The realisation finally hit Lando as he pointed between us both.

“I’m not accusing you of anything but, I have a right to ask if there had been anyone else don’t you think.”

“Yeah sure because I do that kind of stuff.” Stepping closer he shrugged slightly, which only added fuel to the fire, my voice getting slightly louder.

“Oh come on Max! You’ve known me 3 fucking years.” Tears started spilling down my face, and I couldn’t help it, I couldn’t stop them.

“You guys fucked?!” Once again we both was staring at Lando, merely a few feet away from each other. Both nodding our heads slowly.

“Is that why it’s so fucking awkward to be around you both?!” And once again we both just nodded our heads, both looking lost, like deers in some headlights.

“When did this happen?!” Lando’s hands went in the air as he stepped closer.

“Three weeks ago…” whispering I looked down at my feet.

“None of you told me that something happened. I’m supposed to be yours two friend as well. You were both my friends before each others! I should’ve been told!”

“Because that’s so important right now Lan.” Max glared at him as if he was trying to silence him with his eyes, but if anything that spurred him on more.

“It is to me. That’s just fucking unfair.”

“How is it unfair?! It was a silly drunk mistake Lando. It’s not like we’re hiding a big fucking thing from you. We aren’t together- it was one night.”

“Well Y/N is pregnant now. That’s a big thing?! It’s your baby!”

Sniffling I looked back up at Max. “It was a mistake?” I should’ve know, I somewhat did know but it still stung hearing him say the truth- maybe I was imagining what I heard that night…

Max hands came up tugging at his hair.

“Yeah it was a mistake you should’ve told me!” Lando raised his voice, throwing a tantrum like a child, foot stomping against the floor hands balled into fists.

“You both need to leave.” Turning away I went and sat down on the sofa, hands gripping the edge, trying to hold down any emotions that wanted to show.

“Leave.”

“No we need to talk about this. I can’t do this Y/N!” Max was now moving closer gesturing wildly around.

“I didn’t ask you to do anything Max. Apart from leave.”

“No I want to stay, I want to talk.”

“Talk or scream at each other?” Tilting my head I looked up at him wiping my face. “Like you said it was a stupid mistake. I can deal with it on my own. Now go.” I looked between him and Lando.

“No, I can’t be involved in this stuff Y/N. What about my career?!” Scoffing I stood back up. “Your career?! This stuff?! Two was to blame for that night not just me.” Pushing his chest slightly moving him towards the door, grabbing Lando’s arm on the way who only hissed. Shoving them both out the door, both screaming their own protest but neither stopping me from pushing them away, I went to slam it behind them, only for Max to out his foot in the way.

“We can’t do this Y/N…” it felt as if he was staring into my soul, trying to change my mind on the matter, I wasn’t going to be doing anything stupid over our “stupid mistake”.

“I can… Now leave. And neither of you speak to me… years of friendship for what? Some friends you both are.” Spitting words with venom at them both I slammed the door against Max foot before using all my body weight I pushed against his foot until it slammed shut finally. Max giving up any chance he had to change my mind.

We are going to be just fine…

A/N: So this is part one, as I felt like I was typing for ages and dragging on- it is a bit all confusing I think I had a skim read and I’m confusing myself lollll but this is going to be a little mini series I think, cause it gives me a chance to section everything I want out of this “love” story with Max.

I got the title idea from listening to ABBA 🙂 I was thinking about Max saying it to the baby or something idk we will see when we get there 🖤

Masterlist

#f1 imagine #max verstappen imagine #formula one imagine #imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x y/n

[yeagerfate]

Hey I saw your spider verse post on makeup, could you do one with the like the opposite effect? Like I don’t wear a lot of makeup (mostly because I am lazy lol) but maybe the Spider verse sees them with makeup for the first time?

Thanks! Have a lovely day! Xoxo

Don’t forget to eat, drink water, and get rest!!!!

seeing you with makeup for the first time

characters: miles morales (earth-1610), miguel o’hara, hobie brown, gwen stacy, pavitr prabhakar

notes: thanks for requesting and for ur kind words! ur the first one to send me a request so that’s :)) this is basically the opposite of my other post about them seeing you without makeup for the first time. so sorry if this isn’t want you wanted! i did more of a spin on this than the previous one lol #creativefreedom (not proofread sorry)

warnings: none lol

Prom was an extravagant event at Brooklyn Visions Academy, so Miles immediately knew that you were going to go all out for it. Though, he was a bit happy that you told him you didn’t want him to do some over the top promposal. Miles may be well-versed in subjects like art and physics, but his mind went blank when it came to stuff like that. Miles was really anxious about coming to pick you up, as your dad was super protective of you, but his own father gave him a pep-talk. He felt much better. When he saw you in your glamorous dress/suit, he was taken aback almost instantly. He’d never seen you in such magnificent makeup before. He felt…. bewitched. “W-wow,” He stuttered. “You look…. great.” He found himself at a loss for words. Your heart stuttered, and you felt like you’d never been happier. “You’re not too bad yourself,” You giggled. The way you smiled that day made Miles glad he got it in a picture.

Miguel knew that he shouldn’t get involved with one of his subordinates, especially if they were new, but he wanted to break the rules as soon as he saw you. You were…. beautiful, to say the least. The way your makeup perfectly complemented the color of your eyes and skin was glorious. Naturally, you were a bit shy because of your newness, so Jessica accompanied you on your first day with the permission of Miguel. He was very glad someone he was close to was helping you so he could get another good look at you. He felt a bit perverted, like a voyeur, but you were just so… alluring. The smile you radiantly gave him as you shook his hand for the first time was addicting. He wanted to know more about you, even if you were just meant to be a secretary to Jessica. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad if he asked you out for coffee? It couldn’t be, right? He’d just have to make sure Lyla wouldn’t find out about it, as he wasn’t looking forward to being made fun of for weeks.

Hobie loved it when you attended his concerts, so when you came with makeup inspired by his own, he went wild. He found himself being much more clingy than usual, wanting to get a good look at your pretty face and hold you. It meant so much to him that you were involved in his music career… so many people in his life had dismissed it, or had told him to get a “real job”, so your support mattered so much to him. Hobie complimented you multiple times, each comment more sweet than the last, and so by the end of the night you were beaming. The firm kiss you’d given him backstage after his show had ended was something he wouldn’t trade the world for. It was so satisfying, so lovely, so…. you. He loved you. Hesitantly, Hobie asked you if he could walk you to your apartment. When you said yes, he found himself even more ecstatic than before. You were very tired after his show, and so was he, so you both took turns cleaning each others makeup off. You took your time, your hands gentle and benign. Hobie’s hands were a bit rough because of all of his calluses, so he was careful. “Thank you,” he’d whispered to you sincerely later in the night. “I love you.”

Gwen had done your makeup for you, and the way it turned out made her very happy. You looked absolutely incredible, and she almost wanted to dramatically drop her jaw to make you laugh the way she liked. The two of you were supposed to go to Miles’ state championship basketball game, so you both wanted to look nice for pictures later. Gwen spent a lot of time meticulously doing your makeup, wanting it to be exactly tailored to your taste. Any mistakes she’d made she’d immediately wipe off and start again. Excitedly, Gwen had you twirl around in your nice dress and makeup in a mini-fashion show. “You look beautiful,” she told you. Her voice was warm and genuine, her smile heartfelt. That night, after you’d gotten home, she’d kissed your soft lips tenderly, telling you how much she loved you. “Every time I look at you, you seem to get even more beautiful. I’m glad that in this universe, we’re happy together.”

Birthdays were really important to Pavitr’s family, so you wanted to go all out for it. You planned a perfect surprise party with his wonderful auntie. It was really hard to keep it a secret, but it eventually worked out. You were glad you never told him about it because of the joyous look on his face when he realized what was going on. Privately, he gave you a kind kiss and a warm hug, telling you how happy he was. The smile on his face was absolutely adorable and you wanted to squeeze him but you didn’t, not wanting to embarrass him. It didn’t take Pavitr long to compliment you on how beautiful you looked, especially with your amazing makeup. Mushy words were uttered that night, making you both cringe and smile at the same time. It was marvelous. His family had whispered to his aunt asking you when you were to be married, and she just shrugged happily. “Young love,” she muttered. It reminded her of when she was Pavitr’s age.

#atsv x reader #atsv fluff #itsv x reader #itsv fluff #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara fluff #miles morales x reader #miles morales fluff #across the spiderverse x reader #gwen stacy x reader #gwen stacy fluff #pavitr prabhakar fluff #pavitr prabhakar x reader #hobie brown fluff #hobie brown x reader #into the spiderverse x reader #hehe this was fun #i enjoyed <3

[chosobeee]

𝓕𝓪𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓐𝓼𝓵𝓮𝓮𝓹 𝓞𝓷 𝓗𝓲𝓶 ♡

Pairing: Soft!Toji Fushiguro x GN!Reader

Word Count: ~1.2k

Warnings: Again very self indulgent, lots of fluff. Toji is WHIPPED. Extremely ooc--I just really love me some soft Toji, I'm sorry, I promise I'll do one where he's his mean little self to balance it out. Some cussing, mentions of Toji being a dick.

A/N: Yay my second fic! I got even more carried away with this one than the last. But I think this one came out better, so I'm not upset. Also yes, it is in head canon format, but honestly it makes me feel more comfortable to write in this format, especially after being SO out of practice writing. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy! xx

- Your work week has been a long and tiring one. Being promoted was something that excited you at first, more hours equals more money—which never hurt anyone, right?

- Now, a few months into the promotion, you’re starting to heavily regret accepting the position. Constantly picking up shifts for people who called out, having to go the extra mile all the time and never being thanked or rewarded for it. Truth be told, it fucking sucks.

- But now that you and your boyfriend have finally moved into an apartment together, you both need to work in order to pay the bills. Rent isn’t gonna pay itself. 

- Toji picked up a contractor job for some of the larger buildings currently being built in the inner city area—a job that paid well, but kept him away from you for longer than you liked. You’re proud of him, though, knowing he’s working hard for the life you’re slowly building together. The thought made your heart flutter in your chest.

- Stepping onto the welcome mat you had gotten as a house warming gift, your feet ached. Each step felt as though you were walking on shattered glass and upturned nails. Sharp pains shoot up your thighs and lower back as you dig into your bag to retrieve your keys. 

- Inside, you’re greeted with the delicious scent of an unidentified food being cooked. It was so pleasant compared to all of the other signals felt in your body that you immediately let out a sigh of contentment. 

- Kicking off the shoes that were now suffocating your feet and dropping your bag and keys at the door, you shuffle your way into the kitchen and lean against the frame. 

- There Toji stands, his back facing you, focused on stirring whatever is in the pot in front of him. You can hear him whistling a soft tune, one that makes the warmth in your chest spread to your cheeks.

- He was so… husband material now. You thought back to when you first met him, the way he acted. He was so much more cold, distant—abrasive, even. You don’t know how or why, but as you started growing closer, it was like a switch flipped in his head. Well, maybe not that quickly, but it still surprised you. 

- Not that you were complaining. 

- He became so sweet when it came to you. He was so reassuring, soft, and kind. He would give you gifts—and not necessarily expensive ones, but ones that held sentimental value. Things that reminded him of you, and things to remind you of him. He would call you sweet nicknames, take care of you when you fell ill, call and make appointments for you when you felt particularly anxious. 

- It’s precious to see him now, bustling about in the kitchen to cook a meal for you in your shared home. It seems so anti-Toji. The old him would’ve scoffed at this idea, claiming he would never be "weak" enough to settle down for someone like that.

- Suddenly sensing your presence, Toji’s whistling comes to a halt and he turns around, wooden spoon in hand. He smiles and raises an eyebrow. “Staring again, doll?” He puts a hand on his hip. “I know I’m pretty, but a ‘hello’ would be nice, too.”

- You chuckle, walking up to the counter and leaning on it for support. “You are pretty. And you seemed so peaceful doing your little house husband things, I didn’t want to disturb you.”

- He scrunches his eyebrows and pouts. Toji Fushiguro is pouting.  “We both know I’m the real breadwinner in this family.”

- Your roll your eyes and he points the wooden spoon at you punitively. “Now come taste this and tell me what you think, brat.”

- After you’re both finished with dinner you decide to curl up on the couch and catch up on an episode of the show you guys have been putting off for a while now.

- Not even five minutes into the episode your eyes are already growing heavy. The day is really catching up to you now. Sighing, you gently lift Toji’s arm and lean down, resting your head in his lap. 

- Before you even have the chance, Toji is grabbing the blanket at your waist and pulling it up over your shoulders. He keeps in in place with his arm while he combs his fingers absentmindedly through your hair, his attention still on the screen in front of you. Unknown to you, though, is Toji's face-splitting smile, always happy to be the one you lean on.

- You’re already fast asleep by the time the episode is over, and Toji is well aware of it, too. He smiles gently at your soft snores, leaning over you just enough to see your face squished against his thigh. 

- He lets out a quiet chuckle and shakes his head. He doesn’t know how or when it happened, but he is absolutely taken by you. He hasn’t held anything this close to his heart in a very long time, and honestly, that sometimes scares him a bit. 

- Carefully, he rolls you into a little burrito and picks you up bridal-style, carrying you all the way to your shared bed before setting you down gently and unwrapping you from your burrito prison. 

- Before crawling into bed he looks down at you once more, taking in the peaceful expression you wear while asleep. Caressing your cheek, he leans down and kisses you on the forehead.

- Every single day he falls more in love with you, and he’s almost certain you barely notice how genuinely deep his feelings run. He tries to make it clear with reassurance and gift giving, but he knows that he’s still not the best at communicating his feelings. But he tries, really hard. Just for you. Because he loves you and he wants to make sure you understand just how much. 

- He knows how hard you’ve worked for this life together with him. He knows how hard it can be on you, especially with your new promotion and his work hours being almost completely opposite of yours. He knows how much you care about him and this relationship, and it makes his heart soar. He’s had flings in the past, but nothing that’s ever been this serious. No one who has ever taken him serious. 

- You’re a blessing, a miracle. To know that he gets to spend his life by your side isn’t something he takes lightly. He’s forever grateful that you chose him, that you chose to be by his side, even when in the beginning he was more of a dickhead than anything else. And for that, he will always protect you. He will always cherish you.

- Slipping out of his shirt and sweats, he takes his place in bed next to you, covering you both up with the blankets and pulling you into his chest. 

- You breathe out a contented breath and lay your arm across his chest, bringing your leg up and over his. Snuggling into his side, he smiles. He turns off the bedside lamp and lets the darkness cover you both like a blanket. 

- He kisses you on top of the head once more before closing his own eyes, happy to be able to wake up next to you in the morning to come. 

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader

[frankcastleonlyfans]

𝐑𝐈𝐙𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐙𝐀𝐋𝐃𝐑Ī𝐙𝐄𝐒, 𝐃.𝐓

pairing: daemon targaryen x martell!reader

summary: a week after the tournament day, prince daemon and y/n became something more.

words: 2.8k

author's note: I personally hate the smut part, and I really think it sucks. I am truly sorry, guys :( also, I know Mysaria is from Essos and she understands high valyrian, but let's just ✨️ pretend ✨️ she doesn't. and I know dragonstone is literally inside a volcano BUT for the story's sake let's forget that. again, I am so sorry about the smut part. I love you all and thank you so much for the support y'all have given me on the first part. ❤️‍🩹

reblogs, feedbacks and likes are appreciated. i hope you like it!

18+ warning

warnings: dub-con, rough sex, degradation kink, breeding kink, unprotected sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy!), daemon being hot while speaking high valyrian, daemon being hot while dominant, daemon being daemon.

· ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ୨♡୧ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·

"You never said we were coming to Dragonstone." Y/N muttered while getting out of Faora's back.

Daemon chuckled. It was kinda obvious that his plans wouldn't be shared so easily when he invited his wife to a dragon ride. The last few days they had spend together, the prince found himself very comfortable in her presence and discovered that he liked being with her. He thought that bringing her to meet their future home and the perfect place to consumate their marriage was a brilliant idea.

They watched the dragons be lead to the dragonpit, and the prince took the lady's hand in his, leading the way towards the castle.

Adjusting the cloak on her body, Y/N shaked a little bit. The castle was settled on the top of a mountain, and it was freezing cold. The south is even hotter than the Crownlands in west coast, and growing up in Sunspear, the capital and one of the warmest cities of Dorne, Y/N thought she could never get used to this kind of weather.

"Are you cold?" Daemon questioned, taking her closer to him and wrapping an arm behind her neck.

"A little, yes. I didn't thought it would be so cold, but it's a beautiful place. It's cloudy, I love it." She smiled. It was different from everywhere she had ever been, but she could definitely see why he loved that place.

The last three days, Daemon couldn't shut up about Dragonstone and how it was his favorite place on earth. He had been on Meereen, Volantis and Essos, but being trapped in a castle on the mountain was his favorite place on earth. He told her what his childhood was like, and showed himself to be real interested to know the same about hers. Y/N thought that perhaps it was too early to share memories with him.

Inside the castle, Daemon took Y/N's gloved hands in his and gave her a little tour. It was an enormous place, and even though it wasn't the kind of thought she wanted right now, her head showed her how perfect that place was to raise a family with Daemon. She wanted that, and it was her duty as a wife, but the non-stop gossip about the prince's mistress around King's Landing was making her feel a little bit insecure about their future. She knows that they need to discuss their relationship, but he seemed to be enjoying spending time with her the last few days, so she never talks about what's bothering her.

"Daemon!" Y/N turned around to the voice behind them.

"Fuck." He muttered under his breath. "Mysaria. I thought I told you to leave before my arrival."

The woman laughed humorless. She gazed at the princess from head to toe, narrowing her eyes as doing so. Y/N felt like cutting the woman's head with a sword for looking at her like that.

"Ao dōrī ivestretan issa aōha līve istan kesīr." Y/N turned to her husband, speaking in a language that his mistress couldn't understand. (You never told me your whore would be here.)

"She wasn't supposed to be here. I'll take care of it." He assured her, leaving the princess' side and grabbing Mysaria's arm.

Y/N went for the room at the end of the corridor. It was the biggest room inside the castle, and also it was Daemon's chambers. At first she looked at it with romantic eyes, watching scenarios that they could be living there through the years. But that easily crumbled once she remembered that his mistress had also been here. She knew that this shouldn't matter, he was a man and had his necessities. But she thought about how many women Daemon had brought there, and then she wondered why would he keep that one. One of the rumors around the capital is that he was planning to marry and have children with her, but King Viserys forbid his brother to do so. That was probably true.

She waited for Daemon to come, but then she heard the high pitched sound of Caraxes' roar. Y/N went to the window and saw the Rogue Pince on top of his dragon, with the woman behind him. She couldn't believe that he would leave her. It took a few hours before he was back again.

When he came into the room, he noticed her angry features. Daemon thought she looked really cute, but it was no time for compliments that would make her even more angry.

He broke the ice, knowing she wouldn't say a word before he explained himself. "I already told you, she wasn't supposed to be here."

"Where were you?" The princess questioned.

"You really don't want to know." He said with a little bit of annoyance.

"But I do, Daemon! I thought you left me here!" Y/N replied angrily.

"I would never do that. I took her back to Pentos." He tried to take the princess' hand but she smacked him off.

"What? Essos? You crossed the narrow sea?" Y/N frowned in confusion. She couldn't understand why would him do that.

"She's not here anymore, so it doesn't really matters." Daemon tried to get close but she stepped backwards.

"But it does! Why are we even here!?" Y/N snapped.

"I am the prince of Dragonstone! This is my home, our home! The last thing I want now is to talk about her while we're on the home of our future children!"

Y/N's mouth opened in shock. Now it was time to discuss what kind of relationship they had?

"Children? Daemon, what are you talking about? I don't even know what we have! Until last week I thought you hated the idea of being with me." Y/N chuckled in confusion, making the prince roll his eyes.

"Gods, don't be so fucking dramatic. I happen to like you, that's all. Would you rather I was here with Mysaria, leaving you hanging in the capital all alone?" He questioned.

Y/N clenched her jaw and fist, resisting the urge to punch her husband's royal face.

"What did you just say?" She took a step further, her face was an inch away from his.

"What I meant to say," He started, getting even more close to her where their lips almost touched, "is that I'm trying to start a life with you. We're married, after all."

"But that's not what I heard!" She said harshly.

Daemon's hand grabbed her by the throat, and his body crashed with hers when her back hit the wall behind her. Y/N gasped softly, a little bit astonish by his actions.

"Stop being so tough!" His said between gritted teeth, "Shut your fucking mouth and listen to your husband. That's what good wives do."

She chocked on her own words and pride, nodding to whatever he said, without questioning it. After getting to know the true Daemon Targaryen, she lost all the magic of a perfect prince that her mind created through the years. But now, Y/N couldn't understand why she have never felt so attracted to him. He was being rude and possessive, and somehow that turned her on.

"Why do you always have to act like this when you're with me? It's like you have fun arguing." Daemon whispered, prepping kisses on her neck.

"You're being unfair, we haven't argued in a week." The princess closed her eyes, losing herself to the touch of his soft lips.

"And yet you refuse to open yourself to me." His hands left her throat and went to her jaw, grabbing it tightly. "But not anymore. I shall make you give yourself entirely to me."

"Open your mouth for me, princess," He demanded.

Y/N did as he asked, and the prince bit his lip as he entered with his thumb into her aperture. The girl closed her lips around his finger, and sucked her cheeks, creating a vacuum. She licked his finger and softly bit the tip of it, which made him smirk. Daemon pulled his thumb out and wrapped her throat with his hand.

Daemon pulled her up, intertwining her legs around his waist. He walked through the room and tossed her body on the bed. Y/N watched him taking his clothes off and then getting on top of her.

"You have no idea about the things that I want to do with you, Y/N. The things that I want to make you feel."

Daemon started to go down her body touching her clothed pussy. The princess gasped at his touch and bit her bottom lip. Her nails were deep in the bed sheets and her heart was beating like a drum. His hands assaulted her trousers, until it met her panties' fabric.

"You are so wet, all for me. My good little princess." Daemon praised her in a low voice, while rubbing his thumb against her clothed clit, sending shivers down her body, "Tell me what you want, Y/N, I want to hear you."

The girl never felt something like that before. Her body was screaming to be touched. She craved his hands on her body, craved his mouth on her. She needed him to be fully inside her like she needed air to breathe.

"Please, Daemon" The princess moaned as he made circles with index finger on her clothed clit. "Please, make me yours" She begged.

"See, I don't think you understand, my little sand dragon." He whispered, leaving a soft kiss on her inner thigh after taking her trousers off, "You're already mine. Mine to do whatever the fuck I want."

He took off underwear, leaving her vulva uncovered. Daemon grabbed her waist and brought his face against her intimacy, making her shiver as she felt his cool breath touch the sensitive skin of her core. His thumb found her swollen clit, where he made slow circular moves and she moaned to his touch. The princess' hands brushed against his silver hair as his mouth touched her wet center. He made slow moves with his tongue, sliding it from her entrance to the clit. Y/N bit her lip as she moaned, feeling the ecstasy building inside her like she was about to come at any moment.

"Fuck, Daemon–" She tried to warn him but before she could finish her sentence, she came into in his mouth.

Daemon licked his lips before climbing up her body and fit himself between her legs. He helped her to take of her dress as her breathing was normalizing after the adrenaline. He lowered his boxers, freeing his hard cock from his underwear. He brushed his tip at her slit and fit into it. The girl could feel his length entering her slowly, while his hands found her breasts and squeezed them tightly. She whined to the contact as he began to move his hips back and forth in a slow rhythm. His mouth found her neck where he left kisses and hickeys, and extended it's actions to her chest right after. The Rogue Prince took her hard nipple into his mouth and started sucking on it. She rolled my eyes in pleasure as her nails raked his back. His thrusts started to get faster, making his hips snapped into hers while he moaned against her skin.

"You're so fucking tight, princess," He whispered next to my ear.

Y/N turned their bodies on the bed, placing herself on top of him. She took control and looked at him underneath her, so impotent. The princess grabbed his hands and took them to the top of his head. Daemon started to groan while she was riding him, which sounded like music do her ears. It was enough for her to know she was giving him so much pleasure, moving her hips in different ways and motions, going up and down on his hard cock. For someone who was having sex for the first time, she was experienced. Her father made her take lessons with his whores back in Dorne, preparing her for this moment, where she woud pleasure her prince husband.

"You feel so good inside of me," She moaned into his ear to be provocative.

"You're having a great time, huh? Let me show you who's in command here," He freed himself from her hands and grabbed her hips tightly.

Daemon had his hands on her waist with his thumbs pressing into my sides. He buried his entire cock inside of her cunt, making her take every inch of him. She whined loudly, grabbing his shoulder trying not to lose her balance.

He moved his hips up and down, fucking her hard and going deeper in every thrust. Y/N moaned against his skin, when her mouth met his neck, leaving marks on his collarbone. She felt his thick length hitting her g-spot, making her bit my lip hard not to scream.

"Do you like that Y/N? I know you do. You take my cock so well, it's like you were made for me." He growled while pounding into her.

"I'm gonna cum, Daemon!" She cried out.

"Look at you, my slutty little princess taking me like a whore. I'm gonna cum inside you and make you swollen with my child. I bet you would love that, wouldn't you? You're gonna look so pretty when I make you fucking pregnant." He increased the pressure of his hands on her hips, grabbing it more tightly, where would probably bruise later.

His praisings and degradations were driving her insane. She could feel her second orgasm coming and she knew he was close too. Daemon started to slam himself inside her, making her come on his cock. He growled into her ear and kissed her mouth as he came inside her. Y/N felt him twitching through her walls, filling her with his seed.

She fell by his side and hugged his naked body, placing her head on his toned chest. Daemon gave her a soft kiss on the forehead, and closed his eyes in relaxation. They quickly fell asleep due tiredness.

Her fingers slightly danced through his silver long hair, forming braids with it. She hummed a song, while Daemon played with their 2 year old daughter, Rhaenya. The young girl had curly silver hair, due the princess' Velaryon blood, and lilac eyes like hers and Daemon's. Since she was born, the prince decided to take a break on wars and anything that could risk his life. No one would thought that the Rogue Prince, Daemon Targaryen, loved being a parent.

Princess Y/N was 5 months pregnant of her second — and last — child. They came to the conclusion that being in a small family was for the best. In a political statement, they should have as many children as they can, so they can spread the Targaryen line. But, they lived comfortably being in a small family environment, away from the capital, the king and it's dramas, so no one could tell them how to live their lives.

"Emagon ao thought bē brōzāt?" Daemon asked softly, chuckling while Rhaenya played with his nose. (Have you thought about names?)

"Nyke emagon. Skoros bē ao?" Y/N smiled, finishing the fifth braid on his hair. (I have. What about you?)

"Nyke emagon issare otāpagon bē Daemor, isse case ziry iksos nykeā valonqar." Daemon smirked, bitting his daughter chubby cheek and making her yelp. (I have been thinking about Daemor, in case it's a boy.)

"Daemor? Skoros does bona poghash bē ao hae nykeā kepa?" Y/N laughed loudly, which made her child laugh too. Daemon frowned. (Daemor?What does that says about you as father?)

"Kostilus nyke tolī Targārien than nyke rattan naejot sagon. Nyke also thought bē Rhaegor." The prince rolled is eyes to his own sentence. (Perhaps I am more a Targaryen then I liked to be. I also thought about Rhaegor.)

"Nyke raqagon Rhaegor. Lo ziry iksos nykeā hāedar, nyke istan otāpagon bē Daerys." Y/N confessed. (I like Rhaegor. If it's a girl, I was thinking about Daerys.)

 "Sir, skoros does bona poghash bē ao hae nykeā muñnykeā?" Daemon said, getting a wicked giggle from his wife. (Now, what does that says about you as a mother?)

"Hae nykeā muñnykeā? Nyke ȳdra daor gīmigon. Hae nykeā ābrazȳrys, ziry poghash 'nyke jorrāelagon issa valzȳrys'" She kissed the top of his head, making the prince smile. (As a mother? I don't know. As a wife, it says "I love my husband'.)

"Avy jorrāelan, issa byka rizmon zaldrīzes." He turned around, facing her. (I love you, my little sand dragon.)

Daemon pecked her lips, making her smile even larger. The little girl wiggled her arms, asking for her mother embrace. The princess took the young in her arms and kissed her silver curls.

"Avy jorrāelan tolī." (I love you too.)

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen imagines #daemon targaryen x rhaenyra targaryen #house of the dragon imagines #aemond targaryen x reader #house of the dragon

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

timeless - j. kiszka

a/n: this one is super long and holy shit i'm pretty proud of it :) my other song choice for this was wii sports resort theme song. warnings: cursing, past infidelity, some angst, stupid choices, allusions to sex, lots of wedding talk, readers family all being chill, reader being feminine (no real descriptions though) but they wear a wedding dress and are 'mrs', uh, petnames, josh being flirty. my qualifications for writing this is that my dad got married on a cruise but it will be inaccurate, whoops. word count: 10.2k words summary: you decide to be kind after being cheated on. it spirals out of control, thanks to josh kiszka. pairing: josh kiszka x reader now playing: timeless (taylor's version) (from the vault) - taylor swift "and sometimes there's no proof, you just know/you're always gonna be mine/we're gonna be/i'm gonna love you when our hair is turnin' gray"

You book the cruise about six months before you break up with him.

Your whole family is going, you tell him, and it’ll be about five years since you got together when you go, it’ll be romantic!

When he proposes to you two months later, you decide to get married on the cruise. You’ll have the ceremony with your closest family, and then friends will be able to celebrate with you two when you get back, you’ll throw parties!

You catch him cheating on you about six months before you leave for the cruise.

At that point, you had already reached out to plan the wedding with the cruise line, you have your wedding outfit, you won’t be getting your deposit back. He will not be going, he says, because what sadist would go with your ex-fiancé’s family to the Bahamas for two weeks after they find out about your infidelity?

Your sister convinces you to go, telling you that your parents can renew their vows and you don’t even have to go.

You can get over the last of your feelings towards your ex while sipping a pina colada on a beach somewhere.

And this, dear reader, is the story of how you meet your husband on that cruise.

• • •

Day One:

Okay, so you don’t mean for him to be your husband, really. It goes something like this:

Your sister picks you up and you climb into this car with your parents, your sister, your nephew and your brother and his wife.

As your brother and his wife canoodle, still in their honeymoon phase, you make sure your nephew doesn’t spill his juice, and you ask yourself, is this it? Are you meant to have random sex and live a life of freedom yet loneliness and eventually leave everything to your nephew when you croak?

Maybe it isn’t that dramatic, but you still feel shitty!

 You’re waiting at the port, sitting by the help service desk as you wait to board the ship. You’re entirely too occupied trying to fend off thoughts of your ex, yet you hear something that just catches your ears just right.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Kiszka, I can offer you a voucher for your next trip with us, but unless a stranger here offers you their ticket, I’m afraid you’re not going on this cruise. We’re all booked up.”

The man the employee is talking to looks like he just came from a trip to the Bahamas, with this wild curly hair and sandals on. He has these, almost goofy, sunglasses on. He stands with a few other people, one who looks just like him with straight hair.

His body language seems angry, but he’s handsome. And you feel it.

You feel an attraction that you haven’t felt since your ex.

And then you remember your ex, and the ticket in your bag that was abandoned by him, and you realize that someone can give this man their ticket.

You realize you can help this angry, handsome man.

You glance at your sister.

“I’m going to do something sort of crazy, and I need you to support me no matter what. Can you do that?” She smiles.

“Always and forever.”

You get up and grab the ticket from your bag, heading over to the counter where the man stands with the employee.

“And I’m telling you,” The man says, and you almost swoon at the stranger’s voice, “These are my credit card bills! My payment for this trip is right here, there has to be something you can do—”

“Excuse me?” Heads turn towards you, and the employee sighs.

“I’ll be with you in just a few minutes—”

“Oh, no, I—” You sigh, and hand the employee your ex-fiancé’s ticket. “This guest won’t be joining us on the trip, and since I paid for his trip, I’d like to give his ticket to the gentleman here.”

Translation: This guest was a lying piece of shit who broke my heart and was supposed to marry me on this trip, and since I footed the damn bill for aforementioned piece of shit, I’d like for the handsome stranger here to stay in my room.

The stranger looks at you like you just saved his life. Your heart swells.

You all look back to the employee, who looks exhausted.

“We can do that,” They scan the ticket, and start reading your ex-finance’s information. “Okay, so, Joshua Kiszka is going to be the name on the room and the ticket,” she starts, “He’ll have to stay in your room, is that okay?” They glance at you. You turn to Joshua.

“Are you an axe murderer or a creep?”

“Not that I know of.” He answers. You smile.

“That’s totally okay.”

“Alright,” The employee glances at their computer again, typing some stuff. “So, there’s two other things. Number one, there’s the romantic dinner for two this Saturday. Is he going to that?”

“Yes,” You answer, not thinking about it. You smile at the stranger, and he smiles back.

“And the wedding.” The stranger’s smile drops. Yeah, that was understandable.

Your hand lands on his arm, and you become vulnerable.

“Just, go with it for a while, okay? We’re not getting married on this trip, I promise.” You smile, and this seems to reassure Joshua, who turns back to the employee.

“We’re a couple of soon to be newlyweds, baby.” He smirked.

The Employee seems less sure. But they scan the ticket and type a few more things into their computer before handing the ticket to Josh.

“All set. I’d recommend boarding together to get your keycards and everything sorted out. Please step to the side so I can help the next guests.”

You oblige, and suddenly it hits you. You’re a stranger standing in front of a family after you just saved their vacation. You just invited a stranger to stay with you. Joshua looks at you.

“Well, that was a crazy way to ask me on a date.” He tells you, and you laugh.

“Did it work?”

“Absolutely, this vacation would’ve been ruined without you!” He grinned. “I’m Josh.”

You give him your name, and you can just see the relief on his face. He introduces you to his family, and you meet his brothers, Jake, Sam, and Danny, as well as his sister and parents. They’re all lovely.  They begin to call boarding numbers, and Josh takes his backpack from his twin.

“I’m gonna go with them to figure this whole thing out, we’ll meet for lunch later?” They all agree, and Jake mentions how nice it was to meet you, and you head back to your family to board.

Your family looks extremely confused.

“Everyone, this is Josh—There was a problem with his ticket, and I figured since we had an extra, we can hangout with Josh for the trip.” Your sister laughs, and your nephew copies her giggles.

“Don’t worry, we’re not going to do anything wild together, I’m just so grateful that I’m actually going on this trip.” He said honestly. Then he turns to you. “So, what’s this about a wedding?” You laugh, and link your arm with his, a bit of a bold move on your part, but you’re feeling bold. For the first time in months, you want someone, and it’s making you feel bold.

Mostly, for the boarding process, you stand in pairs. You and Josh, your parents, your brother and sister-in-law, and your sister and nephew. You’re waiting in line when you start to explain.

“So, the wedding was originally supposed to be mine, yes. But, the groom turned out to be, uh..” You try to put it nicely, “Not the one.” Is the best thing you settle on, “So we’re going to use it as a way to have my parents renew their vows, or something.” You explain. Josh nods,

“But you realize that we’ll be regarded as the happy couple the entire time we’re on board, right?” You laugh at this idea of this dude you barely know being in love with you and marrying you.

“Josh, you don’t strike me as the type to shy away from the spotlight.” It’s just something about him that gives you the impression that when he walks into the room, he is the center of everyone’s attention. But he just laughs, almost a tad shy.

“Fine, then I’m making up a wild story about our meeting.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, you remember it, right? When you invited me to be a guest at a wedding for a man you were in love with but fell in love with me through out the night?”

“Why does it always have to be about weddings with you, Josh?”

“You know me, I’m a romantic.” You roll your eyes at this, and you hand your boarding passes to the person at the podium, who scans them, and then glances to you.

“Enjoy your stay on the Princess of the Ocean!” The ship name almost makes you laugh, “And congratulations to you both! We hope your wedding and honeymoon is all you want and more!” You realize they must have your name on file, or something comes up when they scan your passes.

You don’t get a chance to respond, because Josh’s arm is around your waist, and he says,

“Everyone’s been lovely so far, thank you. We’re having a great time already, right, Doll?” Your face flushes.

“It’s a dream, honey.” You respond and kiss his cheek. The employee wishes you a great trip, and you head off to the ship.

“I guess we’re going to have to get used to that, huh?” You don’t move from his arm around you.

“I guess so, honey.” You tell him.

You make your way onto the ship, wondering if this could be different. When you get to your cabin, it’s decorated with wedding stuff, and it makes you and Josh both laugh with red faces. On the bed, are towels in the shape of swans, who make a heart with their necks.

Josh tells you they look just like the two of you, and you can’t help but get this feeling that it’ll be impossible to stay away from him while on this ship, no matter how big it is.

• • •

Day Three:

But then you don’t see much of Josh for the second day of your cruise, finding your day full of drinking and running around with your nephew, who you can’t help but indulge in all the kid stuff. You take him on the slides, in the pools, to bumper cars. You get him a Shirley Temple when he gives you puppy dog eyes.

But during your second day at sea, you sort of want to see Josh. He’s out of the room before you even wake up, even though he got back to the cabin after you went to sleep last night. You miss your fake husband.

So, when you see him by a bar around noon, you approach him.

“You look familiar,” you start, “Do I know you?” You ask, a playful smile on your face. He laughs.

“Could be, we’re getting married next week.” You giggle and ask the bartender for a tropical, fruity, alcoholic drink. Josh asks him to make it two. “I want to say thank you again, for letting me take your douchebags ticket.” You smile at his hatred towards an ex he’s never met.

“Don’t worry about it. Why’d you decide to come on this cruise in the first place?” You ask curiously.

“Well, we got back from tour about a month ago, and we knew we’d be wanting to take a vacation that doesn’t involve preforming anywhere.” This leaves you with more questions then answers, and he sees it on your face, “We play in a band, my brothers and I. We scheduled a tour for this year and wanted to reward ourselves with some relaxation.” Huh. “How about you?”

“Well, my parents wanted me to go with them to celebrate their retirement. Then, it was to get married because that worked out so well.” You know you sound bitter about it. It’s because you are.

“Well, I like your new husband more anyways.” He tells you. It makes you laugh.

“We’re are you from?”

“Michigan, originally. I live in Nashville, now.”

“For music purposes, right?”

“Right.” He takes a sip of his drink, “And you?”

“Atlanta, Georgia.” You told him. “But I don’t know, that cities way too small when you have someone living there that you thought you’d marry.” You confess. “What type of music do you play?”

“Oh, we’ll play anything, but we’re known for our rock and roll.” He smiles.

“Well, what do you like to play?”

“I really love all of it, but my true passion is film. I sing. I’m partial to singing jazz.” He explains.

“Huh..”

“And what about you? What do you do for work?”

“Nothing as cool as singing for a rock and roll band.” You admit. “I’m a teacher. I’ve taught a lot of groups, but my favorite is high schoolers, honestly. I teach English.”

“Oh, an Academic?” You laugh.

“Shut up, film boy.” He fakes a hurt gasp, placing his hand on his chest.

“I’m hurt, Doll. I don’t know if I want to marry you anymore.”

“That’s a shame. We already put the deposit down, I’m not getting my money back.” He laughs with you this time.

You talk a while more, and before you know it, your stomach is rumbling for lunch. He walks you to the popular lunch spot on board and decides to join you for lunch.

You both wind up taking bites from each other’s plates.

“Do you like grapefruit, Doll?”

“God no, I was sick once, so my mom gave me one, supposed to be very good for you,” You pause, “I threw up while eating it and haven’t eaten a grapefruit since.”

“Aw, that’s a shame, it wasn’t the grapefruit’s fault!”

“Yeah, but now I associate the grapefruit with throwing up.” You told him.

“I’m sure the grapefruit longs for your forgiveness, Doll.”

“Shut up, Honey.”

• • •

Day Five:

You wind up spending all of day three with Josh, but you don’t see him much on day four—It’s your first day at the beach you’re docked at, so you both want to spend it with your family.

You learned a lot about him on day three—His favorite foods, his favorite movies, music, stories of him and his brothers on tour, growing up. He learns that you went to school in Florida before moving to Georgia, and that you have a scar on your stomach from getting your appendix removed when you were nine.

Learning about each other makes you yearn for him.

The fifth day, though, he’s still in the room when you get up. He grins at you when you wake up, coming out of the bathroom amid brushing his teeth. His hair is wet from a shower, and you sit up, deciding you desperately need a shower.

“Morning, Pumpkin.” He grins as you grab clothes for the day from your bag.

“Morning, sunshine.” You grumble.

“Do you want to go to the beach with me today?” He asks.

You grin and nod, “Sure. Sounds cool. Just let me shower.”

When you finally head off the ship to the beach, Josh has decided he needs to hold your hand. It’s a requirement, he decides.

“We’re betrothed, after all!” He defends.

It makes you laugh, but you’re happy to hold his hand. The sun beats down on you, but there’s this warmth that feels good. You’re unsure if it’s from the sun or from Josh, but you don’t ask. You just walk with him.  

There’s something that’s just easier with Josh around, something that requires no thinking. You can’t really put your finger on it, but you love being around him.

You pass this private beach that you must pay to get into. Josh, in his infinite wisdom, decides the two of you can have fun with this.

“Do you trust me?” He asks, as he takes your hand and drags you off to a shop with a sign that says, ‘locally made jewelry’ in it’s window.

You’re suspicious, but you would follow him to the end of the earth.

“Absolutely not.” You respond, but make no effort to stop him from walking you to the store. He looks around for a second before pulling you over to the ring section.

“Pick out something nice, we might as well milk the whole marriage thing.” You wind up choosing a delicate looking ring that has gold flower decals and a small black diamond in the middle, which you’re pretty sure isn’t real.

You ask the employee to try it on, and it fits like a glove.

Josh can’t take his eyes off you with this ring he’s about to buy for you.

“We’ll take it.” He says to the employee, handing him his card before you can object, and you look to him.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“We’re getting married, of course I did.” He jokes, but then he becomes more serious for a moment. “Plus, I told you, I owe you a million times because I wouldn’t be here without you.” He says softly.

You lean forward and kiss his cheek.

“It was my pleasure.” You say softly. The employee is done ringing you up, and he looks like he’s on the verge of tears.

“I just want to say how happy I am for you two. You’re a beautiful couple.” He hands you the ring and you slip it onto your ring finger.

“Thank you.” You tell him, smiling, and admiring your new engagement ring. Josh wishes him a good day and takes your hand to head back to the beach, where the person letting people in stops you and Josh, telling you the cost to get into the beach. Josh goes for his wallet before smoothly throwing in,

“Thanks for this, it’s such a nice place to spend our time before the wedding. One last quiet moment before the chaos leading up to it.”

“Oh, when are you getting married?” She asks.

“Next Thursday.” You smile. “We’re getting married on the cruise ship over there.” You point, and she shakes her head.

“Don’t worry about the admission fee, I remember how chaotic it was to get married in a familiar place, let alone on a boat.” She chuckles softly and lets you pass.

“Thank you so much!” You say gratefully, never letting go of Josh’s hand. He smiles to you.

“You’re a natural.” He says, as soon as you’re far away from the employee.

“Are you kidding? I’m literally shaking, I keep thinking someone’s gonna call our bluff on the whole wedding thing! I don’t know how you’re managing it.” You tell him honestly.

“I think you’re doing great.” He tells you. “Besides, we’re technically not lying! You were supposed to get married next Thursday on the ship, it just wasn’t supposed to be with me and it’s now for your parents.” He reminds. This is true, you suppose. Plus, with Josh, it’s so easy for you to lie and say he’s in love with you or that he’s the love of your life.

The beach is beautiful—It’s clean and quiet, and you both lay in beach chairs that have been laid out for two.

You’re just laying there for a while, but eventually you turn your head to admire him for a while. He wears a short-sleeved button up, that’s this light blue color. It’s opened, exposing his torso. He has on swim trunks too, and his sandals are discarded on the sand. He also wears this pretty necklace that matches his sunglasses.

“I can feel you looking at me.” He says softly, not turning his hand. Your face flushes and you turn your head back and close your eyes, enjoying the feeling of the sun on your skin.

“Sorry. You’re just really gorgeous.” You confess. He smiles.

“Doll, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you had a crush on me.”

“You’re the one that bought me a ring, Honey.”

“Touche.” Your conversation is cut short when someone approaches you with two pina coladas from the bar. On the house for the happy couple, he says.

After a quick conversation with him, you find out he runs this tropical paradise, and that he’s celebrating twenty years with the woman who waived your admission fee. They got married on this very beach; he tells you. You thank him profusely and when he leaves, you and Josh raise your glasses to each other in celebration for your faux marriage.

“Bajabule.” He hums, taking a sip of his drink.

You think you can get used to being engaged to Josh Kiszka.

• • •

Day Seven:

For those of us in the crowd who have never been on a cruise, there’s always a day on board where you have to dress fancy and nice, and the captain makes this speech, it’s called the captain’s dinner.

When you got engaged to your fiancé, you decided that on this captain’s dinner night, you would book a private, romantic dinner to have a moment of peace before the wedding.

And, like everything else regarding your ex and the wedding, it was nonrefundable, and you were planning on either doing it on your own or giving it to someone else who could enjoy it.

Then, you met Josh. And you had a reason to go.

So, you ask Josh that morning to come with you to this dinner before you leave for breakfast.

“Like a date?” He asks. You smile. Except for swimming and showering, you haven’t taken off your ring.

“Exactly like a date. Be my date tonight, Honey.”

He puts his hand on your cheek.

“Anything for you, Doll.”

So, you spend the whole day excited for your date. You have breakfast with your parents, and then spend the afternoon with your sister and brother, while your sister-in-law takes your nephew and parents to the beach.

You tell them about Josh, and they share this look, you’re not sure what it means, you’re too busy admiring your ring and gushing about how funny and handsome he is.

Your sister sits on your bed, all dressed with her son on her lap as you get ready. You’re nervous and you’re not sure why. Josh gets ready with his brothers.

“You look great,” Your sister assures.

“I just don’t know why I’m so nervous!”

“Maybe because this is your first first date in six years?” That could be it.

“But it’s not with just any random guy, it’s Josh. He’s so casual and cool about everything.”

“Is that supposed to make you feel better?” You see her point.

You sigh and take one last look in the mirror, before slipping on your ring. You turn to your sister.

“How do I look?” Your hair and makeup is nice, and your outfit looks really good on you.

“You look amazing. If he doesn’t like the way you look tonight, he’s not worth it.” You want him to be worth it. You want it desperately; in a way you never knew you could want.

“Thanks.” You smile, nervously. You hear a knock on the door and open it to see him standing there. He wears a white button up with the top two buttons undone, as well as black pants. He’s so good looking it almost kills you.

“Hi.” He grins. “You look amazing.”

“You look amazing.” You respond. You lean forward and kiss his cheek, and he peeks into the room to see your sister and nephew. He greets them and smiles, before taking your hand in his.

“Ready to go?” You nod and tell your sister to give everyone at dinner your love before you head out for your date. Dinner is at this candlelit restaurant, where you and Josh sit at a private table behind this beaded curtain.

“This place is so nice..” You tell him. “I don’t know If I’ve ever been on a first date this fancy.” You confess. He smiles.

“Me neither. It’s beautiful here.” He takes your hand that rests on the table. Your waitress comes in with a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket, introducing herself as Anna, and telling you about the menu for tonight.

“The chef has chosen five courses for our patrons tonight. It isn’t the same as last night’s dishes nor will it be the same as tomorrow’s. It’s preselected, so if there’s any allergies, just let me know. Now, I understand that we’re celebrating a special occasion tonight.” She hums as she pours the two of you champagne.

You look to Josh and wait for him to make up some story about wanting peace and quiet before you get married. Instead, he looks to Anna and says,

“First date. I think this one might just stick, too.”

“First date on a cruise ship? My, what a fairytale.” She smiles. “Well, we hope to give you a night to remember and a start to something wonderful.” She tells you both. “I’ll be back with your first course, soon. Enjoy the champagne, my friends.” She leaves, and you look to Josh.

“Why didn’t you tell her we’re supposed to be engaged?”

“I don’t think she’s the type to tell on us. Besides, this is real. I meant what I said, I want you to stick around...”

“I want you to stick around too.” You confess. You make conversation, getting to know each other through dinner. It’s all delicious, really. Over dessert, you decide that you can’t take it anymore. “I’m having a great time.”

“Me too.”

“I wouldn’t have asked anyone else to go on this date with me.” You confess.

“I would hope not.” He smiled.

“No, Josh, I’m being serious. It has shocked me to my core, but I’m finding myself wanting you more and more.” You tell him, your eyes meet his. “I think one of the best decisions I ever made was giving you that ticket.”

He says your name softly, and when he’s not saying anything like this back to you, you feel tears in your eyes. Is it possible that this man you’ve found yourself falling for has been playing pretend the whole time, the way you were meant to be as well?

“I’m sorry...” You say shakily. “I thought that... That maybe you’d feel the same way about me, but I was- “He squeezes your hand softly.

“Stop. I do want you… I want you so badly it’s destroying me to not have you.” He tells you. Your face flushes. “I’ve wanted you ever since I saw you, and I’ve been thanking whatever force that exists in the universe for meeting you.” He confesses.

Before you can respond, Anna comes back, asking if you want anything else, more champagne, perhaps?

“Can you have someone send it to our room in about two hours?” Josh asks. Anna, who must get that request often, thinks nothing of it.

“Of course. Enjoy the rest of your night, young lovers.” She leaves, and Josh leaves her a generous cash tip, before standing up and grabbing your hand again.

“Come on.” He tells you, and you follow him, curious as to what he has planned. There’s something in his eyes, a spark he gets when he has an idea. You follow him out of the restaurant, your hand locked into his, as you lean your head on his shoulder. He walks with you, all the way up to the top deck of the ship, where it’s quiet and the stars are plentiful. Maybe it’s the alcohol. Maybe it’s the way you’re looking at him. But Josh leans forward and kisses you, and it’s full of a gentleness you haven’t felt in years.

Your hands land on his jaw, as you deepen the kiss slightly, the night air and the passion you feel sends a shiver down your spine, only amplified by Josh’s hands on your hips.

He pulls away for a moment, looking to you.

“Let me take you back to our room.” He says softly.

“To do what?” You ask in a teasing voice. He groans and kisses you again before pulling away to add,

“So, I can make you feel good, Doll. So, I can watch you in pleasure underneath me.” He tells you. His voice is low, and there’s a lust you haven’t heard before.

“Okay.” You tell him.

“Okay?”

“Yes. Yes, Josh, please take me back to the room and fuck me.”

“As you wish, Doll.”

And he does exactly that.

• • •

Day Eight:

Your entire body aches when you wake up, tangled in sheets and in Josh’s arms. You feel amazing. Your eyes flutter open to see him admiring you, and you bury your face in the pillow as you groan. He laughs, his hand gently tracing patterns into your shoulder blade.

“Good morning, Pumpkin.” He says gently, kissing your ear.

“Good morning, Sunshine.” You tell him, before finally picking your head up to look at him. “Josh, I think you’re something equivalent to a sex god.” You say honestly. He laughs.

“Thank you, Baby.” He hums. “Wanna order room service?” He asks.

“Nah... I want you to do that thing you did last night, the one that made me scream.” You reply, and he has this smirk on his lips that makes you want him desperately.

“As you wish.”

You don’t get out of bed until lunch time, and even then, he joins you in the shower.

• • •

Day Nine:

Jake has to beg his brother to come up for air and ask you to join them for drinks that night. He’s worried, maybe that you’ll be scared off by the three of them, or maybe you’ll realize you don’t like him as much.

But you’re thrilled to get to know them, and you head down to the bar around six for drinks and dancing.

“Hey guys!” Sam calls over to you when he sees you. Josh still seems nervous, and you don’t really understand it. You both like each other more than you can put into words, so why is he so nervous for you to meet the three men he calls brothers?

Well, because his brothers are assholes.

You slid into the booth next to Jake, and you go to engage him in conversation. Instead, Sammy loudly calls over to the bartender. “Hey! My brothers getting married next week, how about some shots?”

Josh looks like he might die.

“I am so sorry about him—” You laugh, leaning against him as you try to contain your laughs.

“No, No, it’s funny, I’m glad you told them about it.” You turn back to the boys. “How are you guys enjoying the cruise so far?”

“It’s been great!” Danny yells over the music. “The beaches are so nice!”

“Did Josh tell you about the private beach we found?’

“Yeah! He also told me about the two of you conning your way into free drinks and shit!”

“It’s technically not a lie! I was supposed to be married on Thursday, just not to Josh.” You explain, and Sam laughs.

“You know, Josh has been doing nothing but talk about you, but you’re much funnier than he mentioned.” He hums. You glance over to Josh, who just blushes and rolls his eyes.

“You talked about me? What sort of things does he talk about?”

“Let’s not embarrass him, guys.” Jake says a smirk on his face.

“Thank you, Jake—”

“His new beau doesn’t need to know that he’s constantly gushing about ‘em!” The boys all break out in laughter, and you can’t help but giggle a bit. Josh is overly embarrassed.

“Douchebags! All of you are assholes!” He laughed, not really mad at them. He’s just enamored with you, and despite sleeping with you and telling you as much, it’s still a little bit embarrassing. Not that he’s embarrassed of you, but he finds himself falling for you more and more as the days go by. It’s hard to verbalize.

“Aw, Joshy, they’re just having fun, honey.” You hum. Leaning over and kissing his cheek, a habit you’re finding yourself getting more and more used to.

Shots land in front of the five of you, and Sam holds his up.

“To the happy couple!” You all drink your shots, and you think something crazy.

You think maybe you could get used to doing this. Being a part of their group. Being close to him, to them.

Maybe you could do this for the rest of your life.

You blame it on the alcohol, this feeling that this could last forever.

But when you look at Josh, you’re just enamored by him, in a way that’s deeper than just being a fan or just a crush.

And it crosses your mind for a second.

This crazy idea.

You kiss Josh quick, forgetting about the idea, blaming it on the alcohol again.

• • •

Day Ten:

You wake up with this wicked hangover, and to your disdain, Josh is nowhere to be found. You decide to get dressed and grab breakfast, figuring he’ll either text you or find you when he wants to see you.

But every few moments you’re turning as if you want to say something to him.

It’s frustrating because you know how crazy it is that you like him so much.

And it’s scary because you haven’t felt this way in a long time, maybe even a year or two, because with Josh, you realize how much you weren’t in love with your ex-fiancé, and it’s wild because you thought you’d marry him.

But it’s different with Josh, Better, most definitely. That thought from last night comes back, and you can’t blame it on the liquor anymore, and you can’t blame it on Josh looking amazing in bar lighting, and you can’t blame it on how connected you feel to his brothers because they aren’t around.

Your hand drifts to your ring finger, and you play with your ring, thinking about Josh. You wonder what will happen when you get off this ship. You wonder how it would be taking weekly trips to Nashville, especially when the school year starts and you’re busy with grading and lesson plans.

It all seems totally ridiculous. Why bother then?

But you keep coming back to it. This crazy idea, like an itch you just can’t scratch. You want to verbalize it, you want to ask it of Josh, but you realize how damn wild it is.

Maybe he’ll like that.

You’re lost in your thoughts when you feel a hand on the small of your back. You grin.

“You know, Honey, I—” When you turn around, you don’t find Josh. You find some random asshole who is already drunk, because, when in Rome. “Get the fuck off me, Dude.” You move away from him.

“What’s the matter? You seemed into it before—”

“I thought you were someone else.”

“Oh, you got a little boyfriend?”

“Fiancé, actually.”  Like magic, Josh appears behind the stranger. He looks angry. He looks jealous. He looks hot. “Is there a problem here?” he asked, tilting his head. He moves to you and wraps his arm around your waist.

“No problem, man.” The creepy dude backs off, walking off. Josh looks to you and cups his hand to your cheek.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” You say softly, “I’m okay...” You bite your tongue, before adding, “That was sort of hot—”

“I’m sorry?”

“No, not that asshole, you! Being protective of me like that… I’m not used to it.”

“Oh… Well—”

“And you were jealous. So hot.”

“I was not jealous!”

“Honey, you most totally were! It was so so attractive.”

“Why?” He seems genuine.

“Because... C’mon, I have to tell you a story, but we gotta go sit down so I can tell it.” You sigh. You wind up leaving the restaurant and sitting on a beach chair on the top deck. He keeps his hand on your thigh as you relax. Your heart is beating rapidly, and you’re not sure why you’re so anxious, but Josh seems to sense this.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I just hate this story…” You take a deep breath before you begin. “I was with my ex for about five years. He asked me to marry him after we booked this cruise, and I don’t know why I said yes… Maybe I loved him, but I wasn’t… In love with him like everyone describes I should be... But he never did anything romantic for me, no flowers, no sexy things, certainly no jealousy… So, I’m not sure why the cheating on me destroyed me so much, but it did. I haven’t felt anything for anyone since then. Until you.” You told him, and he just has this focused look on his face.

“He sounds horrible.” You laugh, tears falling from your face that you didn’t even realize you had. He wipes them tenderly.

“Yeah...” You say softly, leaning into his touch.

“Wanna hear my sob story now?”

“Sure, Honey.”

“I’m falling in love with someone who I met last week and might never see again after Saturday.”

“Josh...”

“We don’t have to ruin anything with commitment, we don’t…” His breath is shaky, and you catch tears running down his face, too. “I just need you to know that I’m falling in love with you, and I have no intentions of staying away from you or stopping that process.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to. Never.” You tell him earnestly. “I’m falling in love with you too.” You wipe his tears. Even crying, your boy is beautiful.

“Well, then we’ll just hope that the ship sinks before it docks so we can go down in history as the lovers who should’ve made it.” He smiles. It makes you cry harder, offering all this comfort but no happiness. Josh frowns and wraps his arms around you. “I’m sorry for making you cry.”

“It’s okay…” You whisper. “You have this way with words... It makes it hard not to be moved or not to fall deeper in love with you.”

“I thought we agreed no preventing the inevitable like falling in love with each other?” You pull away from the hug and wipe his tears. He kisses yours away.

“Right, well I’m instilling a new rule. Not preventing us from falling in love with each other. No more tears, either Kiszka?” You hold out your pinky. He links your pinkies together and then you both kiss the ends of your hands on instinct, giggling when you realize you both did it without words. It’s like an invisible string that had connected you all this time.

“You got it, Doll.” He says softly, before leaning forward and kissing you gently. You decide not to worry too much about it, realizing that if the universe was smart enough to bring you and Josh together for these two weeks, you’d find your way back to each other again. How could you not?

You were falling in love with each other, after all.

• • •

Day Eleven:

You wake up the next day to your favorite sight. Josh tangled in the sheets with you, but for once he’s still asleep. You love it. You wound up spending the day with him and then going to dinner with your family, the night full of laughs, because Josh is just so God damn charming.

He’s so pretty.

You grab your phone from your dresser and then take a photo of him, all sleepy and shining under the sunlight.

His eyes flutter open after a few minutes of you admiring him.

“Well, good morning, Pumpkin.” He says in this low morning voice. Your fingers play with his hair,

“Good morning, sunshine.” You grin, leaning down and kissing his head. He turns to you and smiles.

“What do you have planned for today?” At this question, you groan. Fuck, you forgot everything you have to do today.

“I have a meeting with a notary, who doubles as the cruise line’s wedding coordinator, that I was supposed to go to with my ex…” You sigh. “But now I gotta go and tell them that no, I am not getting married, and that the ceremony is going to be a renewal of vows for my parents.” You sigh and rub your eyes. Josh looks at you, and he has that idea spark in his eyes. You see it, and he knows you see it. “What? What is it?” You ask.

For a moment, you wonder if he has the same idea that you’ve had for the past few days. But that’s crazy, why would he possibly think that you two should go through with it, that you two should get married?

“What if we went through with it? Getting married, I mean?”

Well, I’ll be damned. He did have that thought.

“Josh—” You grin, and he shakes his head, burying his face in his pillow.

“Never mind, that’s dumb, I’m sorry…” He sighs. “We just met, it’s a completely crazy idea, I just can’t get it out of my head, and—”

“Let’s do it.”

“What?”

“Let’s get married.”  What the fuck are you talking about? Why would you agree to this? “It’s bonkers.”

“I completely agree.” He speaks. “You need a dress.”

“We need rings.”

“We need to tell our families…” You grab your phone and start to make a list. Get notarized, get a dress, get rings, tell families. That’s the list.

Busy busy day. Josh takes your hand and kisses the back of it, squeezing your hand. Then, you get up and head off to shower.

As the two of you get ready to meet the notary, you begin to realize how crazy this is. You met Josh what? Ten, eleven days ago? How did you manage to fall in love with him so quickly? You try not to think too much about it. Worst case scenario, you get an annulment, right?

You’re getting married to a rockstar and you’re not even a groupie.

Josh meets you at the door and takes your hand, and you begin to grow nervous. Not to get married but to tell your parents. This was a wild idea that you most definitely did not see them approving of. But you’re an adult, you can make your own choices.

Josh squeezes your hand when you get into the elevator. As the doors close, you begin to kiss him, full of this need.

Eventually, you do make it to your notary, Linda.

“Hi! You must be Mr. and Mrs. Austin—”

“No, actually. Mr. and Mrs. Josh Kiszka, and I have no intention of being Mrs. Josh. Mrs. Kiszka is fine.” You smile.

“Oh, my mistake. I didn’t realize—”

“Spur of the moment decision. Which, I know is crazy and you probably don’t get that a lot, but—”

“Elopements of all types are extremely common especially in the vacation business.” She assures. “And honestly, I met my wife and knew I wanted to marry her after a week. Some people wait years to get married and only last for a few months. Others get married after two weeks and stay together for the rest of their lives. When you know, you know.” She advises. You like that, and grin.

“When you know, you know.” You repeat. “What do we have to do to get married?” She hands you two forms for a marriage license and goes through them with you.

“And are you going to take his last name?”

Kiszka. Mrs. Kiszka. You imagine your students calling you that, imagine the name on your ID, on a sign in your home.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think I will.” You smile. She guides you through the steps to do that on the marriage license.  It takes a while, but you eventually get the licenses filled out, and Linda takes them back.

“Amazing. I’m going to make sure everything looks good here and give you confirmation tomorrow. At the very least, you get married by the captain tomorrow and then when you get back to the states, you’ll fill out the license again, and celebrate your anniversary as tomorrow not when the license goes through.” That seems simple enough.

“Thank you.” You tell her. Josh parrots you, and Linda just smiles.

“Of course. I wish you two a very long and happy marriage.” She says, “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Yeah, you remember how we said this was last minute?” She nods. “Where can we get rings and a wedding dress?”

She directs you to a small boutique on the island you’re docked at, somewhere that has lots of gowns for stupid decisions like yours. Then, she tells you there’s a jeweler on board. Is there anything this ship doesn’t have?

So you head off to the jewelers first, and you, honestly, spend more time doing this than anything else. You look at black bands, and they’re not your style. You look at silver, but it really doesn’t go with the gold ring you got the other day.

Then you land on these gold wedding bands. They’re engraved with leaf patterns, and the jeweler advertises custom ring carvings in less than 24 hours.

“Hey,” He says to the attendant at the counter. “Can we see the gold bands?” He takes them out and hands them to you, and you both place it on your right ring finger. It’s bad luck to try them on your left hand, right?

They fit like gloves.

Josh glances up to the attendant. “How long would it take to engrave our initials into each other’s rings with tomorrow’s date?”

“Couple of hours. You can pick them up tomorrow morning.” He tells you two, and Josh nods.

“Great.” He tells him your initials and his, so that he gets them right, and hands him his card.

Your next step is the boutique. And you stop Josh before you go into the boutique.

“Wait here.”

“What?”

“It’s bad luck to see my wedding dress before the day of.” He scoffs, playfully.

“We’re getting married tomorrow, doll. Besides, we’re not really traditional.” He has a point, but you shake your head.

“C’mon, for me? I won’t be long.” You play with his collar. He kisses you gently, and nods.

“Okay, okay. Good luck with your shopping.” He tells you, and you kiss him quickly before heading over to find yourself a wedding dress.

You don’t find a bunch of white options, but here are your options:

The first is a pretty silk thing but it makes your proportions look bizarre. So, you move on.

The second makes you look like a Mormon, with long sleeves and a turtleneck. It goes down to your ankles and is made of a heavy fabric. No, thank you.

The third is a new age dress that is white with complex black designs. You appreciate the look, but you decide it isn’t for you.

The fourth one is one you weren’t excited about, but then when you try it on, it’s all you want. It’s a 50’s style cut, and it comes down just past your knees, with a corset top. But the skirt and corset has floral designs, with the skirt being a thin lace layer with the flower print. It’s gorgeous, and it almost makes you cry to see yourself in the mirror.

It exudes spring energy. You think about Josh’s face when he sees you walk down the aisle.

You go to pay for it at the counter, and you pick up a pair of simple white heels, and a pearl necklace.

There’s a bouquet of flowers that sits by the counter. You get an idea when you see them and throw them into the pile of wedding things you have.

“Special occasion?” The cashier asks, an amused smile on their face as they ring you up.

“My wedding day tomorrow.”

“It’s a beautiful dress.” They hum. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” You hum, a blush filling your cheeks.  They put the dress in a garment bag, so it isn’t visible, and you hold the bag in the other hand.

“How’d you make out?” Josh asks.

“Lovley. I even got myself accessories.” You grin. Josh leans forward and kisses you quickly.

“My bride to be…”

“My husband to be.” You say softly. “We need to text our families. Maybe we could have them meet us for dinner and tell them then?”

“Yeah, that’s a great idea.” He says. You whip out your phones and spend a few minutes texting your families on the cruise asking them to dinner. Then, you turn back to your husband to be, for real, not just to get free things.

“Wanna go back to our cabin...?” You smirk. “We should engage in premarital… activities.”

“Oh, Doll… You’ll be the death of me...” He growls, taking your hand and leading you back to the ship.

You spend your time until dinner doing your favorite things with Josh, and then you spend about two hours fashioning your bouquet of flowers into a flower crown, leaving a few to tuck into Josh’s hair and suit pocket.

He was off grabbing coffees for the two of you, when there’s a knock on your door. You answer it, and it’s your sister. Oh.

“Hey!” You grin, going back to your work on the flower crown.

“Hey, why’d you ask your roommate and his family to join us for dinner?” She hums. You’re about to answer when she looks around the room. She sees the garment bag hanging from your bathroom door, the white shoes and pearls, flowers scattered around the room. Her eyes land on the gold wedding bands on your dresser. She says your name, before adding, “You aren’t…”

“Listen, I know how crazy it is—”

“It’s more than crazy!” She says, sitting on the bed with you. “You’ve known him for a week!”

“…Ten days.” You say, a little ashamed, your older sister disapproving of your choices.

“C’mon.” She says.

“Mom and Dad have been married for twenty years.” You say. “They got married after six months. Arthur and Veroncia got married after a year! You had a baby with a guy who you aren’t even dating anymore. So what if I’ve only known him for a week? Who gives a shit? People have gotten married after a week and stayed together their entire life, others get engaged after five years and don’t even make it to marriage!” You sigh, rubbing your eyes. “Maybe it’s a mistake. But it’ll be the best god damn mistake of my life, so just stand by the alter and look pretty for me.” You ask.

She looks at you for a few minutes.

“Okay. Yeah, I’ll be there. You’re right, it could be a mistake, but it could be amazing.” She hums. “You have a nicer man than I do.” She grins. You laugh and hug her. “Now let me see your dress, Mrs. Kiszka!”

That night at dinner, you hold Josh’s hand nervously, as if he’ll float away if you let go. Your two families get along great. Your parents love his, your siblings quickly get accustomed to his, and your nephew sits on Josh’s lap, and they entertain each other.

Between Dinner and Dessert, when your nephew returns to his seat, you stand up and gently clink your glass for everyone’s attention.

“Hi everybody. Thanks so much for coming tonight,” Is this a rehearsal dinner? “So, a few of you might have noticed my ring, and uh—It started as a joke. To get free stuff.” You say, earning a few laughs at the table. “But it developed into something more.” You look to Josh. “And what I’m about to say, is crazy, I know that. And I’ve been thinking about it for a few days, and nothing has ever felt so right. So support us or not, I don’t care. This is what’s happening and—”

“Spit it out already!” Your dad laughs. You pause, your hands shaking. Josh takes it in his.

“So, Josh and I are getting married tomorrow.”

Silence. No response. You feel tears in your eyes.

“Mozel Tov!” Your mom gasps, standing up and going over to the two of you. She hugs you tightly, and her congratulations break the tension of the table as the rest of them come over to congratulate you.

Anyone who has reservations against your decisions keep them to themselves. Jake comes over to congratulate you two, and suddenly Josh is nervous again.

“Congrats, man!”

“You’re not mad?” Josh asks.

“Mad? You’re marrying a girl you met last week. That is so rock and roll!” He pulls josh into a hug, and then he hugs you. “Oh, good luck, hot stuff.” He hums and kisses your cheek. You feel loved.

“Good,” Josh grins, “Because you’re going to be my best man.” You turn to your parents.

“You’re not mad?” You ask.

“No, of course not. It’s crazy, but you’re an adult. If you love him, you need to do what’s best for you.” You grin.

“Thank you. We should schedule a different renewal of your vows, too, and—” Your dad hugs you.

After dessert, you hold your nephew in your arms, and he’s sleepy.

“Is Josh gonna be my uncle?” He asks softly, and you smile, kissing his head.

“Yeah. I think so...”

“Good. He’s cool…” You look at Josh and admire him laughing with your sister and his brothers.

“Yeah. I think so too.”

• • •

Day Twelve:

Your wedding day goes by way too quickly, and before you know it? You’re slipping on your heels and clipping the pearl necklace around your neck. Your phone rings.

It’s Josh.

“Hey, Honey. What’s going on?” You ask.

“Doll, there’s a photographer by the venue, was this planned?”

Shit. You forgot about that.

“Yeah, uh, let her take photos of you and our families, and she’ll photograph the ceremony. Then, she’ll take photos of the happy couple.”

“Oh yeah? And who would that be?”

“I love you, Joshua.”

“I love you.” He says your name. You hang up, and your parents are knocking at your door. You open it, and they’re speechless at your ensemble.

“Does Arthur have the wedding rings?” You ask, hoping he’ll give them to your nephew.

“Oh, baby, you look beautiful.” Your mom coos, and it hits you.

You’re getting married.

You grin, and head down to the small venue that has been put together on the ship. The photographer takes a few photos of you, and you’re suddenly happy you paid for the whole package.

And then it’s time. Your parents walk you down the aisle, and when you see Josh standing there, his brothers as his best men, your sister stands with your nephew on the other side of the alter. You kiss your parents quickly, before you stand in front of Josh, taking his hands. Your cheeks hurt from smiling.

“Hey.” You say softly.

“Hi…”

“This is crazy, right?” You whisper.

“Absolutely. You look amazing.” He hums. It’s funny because he looks ethereal. The flowers in his hair look amazing.

“You look amazing.”

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

The captain, your officiant, begins the usual--- Telling everyone why they’re here, about life and death.

“Do you two want to say a few words?” He asks.

“I’ll go.” Josh says gently. “For a long time, I never thought I’d find anyone who could keep up with me. Who could love me for all the parts of me… And then you came along and immediately, you showed me this infinite kindness. I knew I would never get over you in that moment. I love you. And I hope this marriage is an infinite source of happiness and wild adventures. And if not, fuck it—” He cringes, realizing he used fuck in his wedding vows, “Fuck it. Let’s make it a crazy and fun marriage even if it only lasts a week.” You almost kiss him right there and then.

“Josh, I don’t… I never really thought I’d fall in love again. I never thought I would fall in love with anyone again. I… I thought that maybe… Maybe I was unlovable or...” You play with his fingers. “Whatever. But when I met you, I realized that I didn’t know what love was before you came into my life. And since I’ve met you, life has just been crazy, full of love and this… this general glow for life. I love you. I love you deeper than anyone I’ve ever known, and I like to think we have a golden type of love. I’ll love you forever, no matter what. Marriage or not.”

You realize you’re crying and Josh wipes your tears.

“I thought we promised no more crying, doll.”

“Sorry, Honey.” You whisper.

The Captain smiles and looks to you.

“Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health? In richer and in poorer? For better and for worse?”

“I do.” A ring is slipped onto your finger.

He turns to Josh.

“Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, in sickness and in health? In richer and in poorer? For better and for worse?”

“I do.” You slip a ring onto his.

“You may now kiss the bride.” And he does. He places his hands on your hips and pulls you in, kissing you deeply.

The rest of forever starts now, and with Josh by your side, that doesn’t seem so daunting.

• • •

Day Thirteen:

Only technically is it day thirteen.

After the ceremony, the photographer dragged you and Josh off to take photos, and then you went to dinner. You had cake, and then the party really started. Josh’s parents and your own call it an early night and promise to watch over your nephew.

The rest of you go out and drink until you and Josh stumble off into the night. It’s around two a.m., maybe three.

You lay on the beach chairs that you had your talk on back on day ten. Josh holds your hand as you listen to the waves crash, and even drunk, you admire the stars from the top deck.

“Honey?”

“Yeah, Doll?”

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

“What happens when we get off the boat..?”

“We…” he sighs softly. “We try long distance. We can make It work until we decide to move in together.”

“It’ll probably be a while, unless I can get a job before the school year starts in Nashville...”

“I’ll wait for you.”

“And when you go on tour?”

“You’ll knit on our porch and wait for me to come back.”

“You’ll write songs about me?”

“Baby, every song is about you.” You kiss his cheek. “It’s all about you...” He hums.

You listen to the waves crashing as Josh starts to sing you something. Light My Love, you think.

It makes you realize you’ll never regret marrying him.

• • •

Day Fourteen:

You have to get off the ship early. Like, eight a.m. and you have to say goodbye to Josh.

You say goodbye to his parents, his sister, and then his brothers. Jake holds you close for a while, and then tells you,

“See you around, Sister. Be strong, yeah?” You smile and kiss his cheek. He climbs into the car, and you’re left with Josh.

Your husband.

You wrap your arms around his neck, and he places his hands on your waist.

“I love you.” You whisper. “Don’t be a stranger...”

“A stranger? How could I ever be a stranger to my wife? I love you. We’re gonna spend the rest of our lives together, doll. I don’t give a fuck about distance. You’re the only thing that’s ever been easy.”

“I’m a real hassle.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic.”

“I want a divorce.” You giggle. He laughs and kisses you, pulling you close. He hugs you for a while. Neither of you say anything. You want to cry. But you don’t. You maintain your composure. You begin planning, you’ll drive up to Nashville next weekend, you’ll make it work.

You have no other options.

None.

You have to be with him. It’s like breathing, it’s the most natural thing in the entire world.

“I love you.” He says, pulling away to look at you. “Doll, I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you, honey.” You kiss him one more time, and then he leaves. He climbs into his car, and you start to cry on the walk back to your car. Your family says nothing, and you just cry as you start to drive. Your nephew frowns, and looks down at his dinosaur blanket, that always makes him feel better. He takes your hand in his and doesn’t say anything.

You begin to look for teaching jobs in Nashville, searching for apartments too. As you’re searching for something, you get a text.

“Good morning, by the way, Pumpkin. See you soon?” You smile and wipe your tears, before texting back.

“good morning, sunshine. see you soon.”

#josh kiszka x you #josh kiszka x reader #greta van fleet x you #greta van fleet x reader #greta van fleet #danny gvf #daniel wagner x you #daniel wagner x reader #danny wagner x you #jake kiszka x you #jake kiszka x reader #jake gvf #sam kiszka #sam kiszka x you #sam kiszka x reader #josh gvf #sam gvf #josh kiszka fic #josh kiszka fluff #josh kiszka gvf

[entertext]

HGSN 26-1

Chapter (Japanese)

(Please hit the green thumbs up at the end of the chapter to show support)

Rough translation by me

(+ last week's twitter comic also)

P1

Rie: Anyway, for now, you should go on home today...

P2

Hikaru: Thanks...for the raincoat...

Rie: Take care

(sfx: door closes)

Rie: (At 'Hikaru'-kun's home right now..., he has a family that doesn't know anything. They're surely waiting for him to come home for dinner today too.)

P3

Rie: (When I think about Tsujinaka-kun and 'Hikaru'-kun's family...)

Rie: (There's just no way I can...)

(sfx: ding-dong)

Rie: (Is my daughter back?)

Rie: Alley-oop

(sfx: door opens)

Rie: Yes?

Rie: ...!!

Rie: ...You're...

P4

(sfx: cicadas)

P5

(sfx: squeak squeak)

Hikaru: Hey, is it really okay to get that as a "swim ring"? It's not exactly a "ring".

(sfx: squeak)

Yoshiki: Kaoru did say to get "the cutest one"

Hikaru: I'm glad that Kaoru's been going to school a bit more these days and made a friend she can go to the pool with.

Yoshiki: But why do I have to go all the way to Mion to buy a swim ring for her?

Yoshiki: Carrying this around is such a pain

Hikaru: It's 'cause you bought something that was already inflated

Hikaru: You could have just deflated it and folded it up.

P6

Yoshiki: I'd feel kinda bad for it

Yoshiki: The poor giant salamander...

Hikaru: Pftt. You're attached to it

Yoshiki: ...so, after that, I found out some stuff

Yoshiki: The "sin of the Indou family" was actually...

(sfx: cicadas)

Yoshiki: ...'Hikaru'

Yoshiki: do you not have memories from your time as "Nounuki-sama"?

P7

Hikaru: I have them...at least I should

Hikaru: It's like, for some reason, I've forgotten them for a long time and have recently started to recall them...

(sfx: squeak)

Hikaru: Especially the stuff about "granting wishes"...

Hikaru: I'm not sure why, but for some reason I think it's true.

Hikaru: I can grant any wish you ask for...I have that feeling anyway.

(sfx: squeak)

(Hikaru: ...and I'll do whatever you ask me to do...)

Yoshiki: ...you have such a big mouth, haha...

Yoshiki: Any wish, for real?

P8

Hikaru: Yeah

Hikaru: Go ahead

Yoshiki: (This "wish"...if it really did get granted...)

Yoshiki: (I feel like it'd be bad news)

Yoshiki: No. It's fine.

(sfx: squeak squeak)

Hikaru: ....

Yoshiki: *sigh*...Even though we know about Nounuki-sama now, we still don't know anything about the most important part, doing something about the impurities...

P9

Yoshiki: (And what was that sketch, too...)

Yoshiki: (It's just one inexplicable thing showing up after another)

Yoshiki: *mutter mutter*

Hikaru: Heeey

(sfx: cicadas)

Hikaru: Ah!

P10

Hikaru: It's Mincemeat!

Mincemeat: ....

Hikaru: Yoshiki, look at this!

Hikaru: He's dancing

Yoshiki: He's gotten pretty used to you

Yoshiki: Figures, he still hates you

P11

Hikaru: That guy... he was just after a cat treat, huh?

Hikaru: He's surprisingly strong

Yoshiki: Hahaha

Hikaru: Hey

Hikaru: There's no point in thinking about stuff in a place like this

(sfx: cicadas)

Hikaru: It's summer break right?

Hikaru: You wanna go to the beach today?

Hikaru: I'd like to see the ocean at least once

Twitter Extra (link):

==

Next chapter: in 1 week

==

Yoshiki (13yo): Look, Kaoru, here's a souvenir for you. It's a beetle larva plushie.

Yoshiki: You said you wanted something cute right?

Kaoru (9yo): I didn't want that....

Yoshiki: Huh?

==

Things that are a little annoying about Yoshiki

Last week's twitter comic (link):

Maki: He can kinda look down on people.

Also the fact that he's taller than me makes me mad!

Yoshiki: Are you stupid?

Maki: Hah? What?!

Asako: He never tells me about the important part. Too secretive?

Asako: Huh!? You're hurt, what happened?

Yoshiki: Nothing...

(He took a big fall)

Yuuki: That even though what he thinks quickly shows on his face, he won't say anything. I'm the one who ends up having to guess.

Yoshiki: 's really good

The first time I gave him something sweet

Even though he obviously didn't like sweets, he didn't say anything about it. (The next time I gave him something that wasn't sweet, and he enjoyed it)

'Hikaru': He's always nagging, such a busybody. He's quick to start brooding and worry himself sick. And he's kinda needy. Also he's like argumentative? He watches videos about beating other people in debates. Also sometimes he grows beard hair.

Yoshiki: Hey! Wash your hands!

Maki: Well you told me to talk about it!

Asako: Sorry!

'Hikaru': (LMAO)

Yoshiki: Beard hair...

#hikaru ga shinda natsu #the summer hikaru died #hgsn spoilers

[oneshlut]

Ok, first off, love love Love your yandere Flug headcanons! I am injecting them into my veins as we speak. On that note, could you write something branching off of that base idea but with the twist that reader is 100% supportive of Flug being a yandere? Could be anything from just accepting his love to actively encouraging him to kill people for them. Thank you for your time, hope you have a great day!

A/N: ooh, of course!! i was actually planning to do this with yandere dating hcs for flug since someone had requested for a general pt2 of these hcs, so thanksies for the request!! accepting x yandere is so horrifically adorable <33 (also SO HAPPY you liked my previous hcs!!)

Two of Hearts (Yandere!Dr. Flug x Willing!Reader) [Headcanons]

Rules For Requesting

Characters I Will Write For

Masterlist

WARNINGS: Mentions of homocide, depictions of blood, unhealthy obsessions, yandere themes, general dead dove contents!!

Summary: General headcanons for a yandere Dr. Flug with an accepting/supporting reader for his behavior

Extra Info: This does NOT condemn yandere behaviors irl. Purely fictional scenario, do not support this toxic behavior in others. im sure you all know that though <33

Love can escalate. When it does, it escalates fast. This escalation can range from a proposal in a matter of weeks, a date in a matter of days, to murder in a matter of hours. Often times, Flug's love escalated to murder. He has before for you, and he would again.

Being a "real" villain gives Flug some sort of confidence boost. He hardly stutters, never cowers in fear, and opts to make extremely bold decisions. Decisions he wouldn't normally make. Well, the first and most obvious would be homocide--but he also gains the confidence to confess to you.

He wouldn't dare kidnap you, though! Of course, not if you took it well! Luckily, things didn't have to go that way, since you agreed to be his boyfriend.

Wait, what.

It wasn't that huge of a shock. I mean, he knew you'd either say yes or no, but he was fully prepared to receive a no. I guess that chloroform-laced cloth in his pocket wasn't necessary after all! He was ecstatic to be yours! As long as you didn't find out about anything he was doing, the two of you would hold up well!

Hah, that wouldn't last long. He was confident with himself at first, but now that you're together for real? All his confidence was immediately swept away when you kissed him for the first time--that or when you first told him "I love you". It really made him put things into perspective--he was yours. And you were his. Flug was more lovesick than ever, more than he had realized. It was adorable, watching him trip over himself anytime you walked into the room.

It was now over a month of the two of you being together, and both of you were happy with your relationship! Flug was still pretty confident you wouldn't find out about what he was doing, and you were.. Actually, you were slowly gaining suspicion.

Over time, you began to notice small flaws in his usual behavior. Very small flaws, yes, but not too small to go unseen. Some of these would be nice, such as Flug going out of his way to get you something on an outing. This would be normal, if it wasn't every outing. And on other days, he would just switch up and do the complete opposite--not noticing you when you greeted him, spacing out while just.. staring at you.. or he would respond to you in two word sentences. He was either in a whole other world, or completely caught up in yours. It was distracting how easily he could just.. switch. It put you off, but you decided to ignore it for the most part.

One day, he came home extremely silent. Actually, you hadn't even noticed he had left in the first place. You watched as he retreated to his room--seperate from his lab. Not even a hello, nor an answer to your simple questions as he walked. You began to fear that he was ignoring you. What could you have done wrong..? That, or he was just spacing out again, which felt a bit unlikely.

Slowly gaining curiosity, you decided to take a small visit to his lab. Maybe 5.0.5. knew something? In all honesty, you weren't just "curious".. you were worried. Unfortunately, taking this visit to his lab didn't help with that feeling of worry at all. Opening the door with a painfully loud creak, you were stunned to find the place in shambles. It wasn't messy in the way it looked like a break-in--no, it looked man made. Some of the lights were turned off, his materials were scattered over his multiple desks, many syringes laid out across the floor--most still had chemicals in them. Watching your step, you made your way to his main workplace, the mess being no different from the rest of the lab. Unlabeled papers of research and crumpled up papers laid sprawled out on his desk. The entire scene was extremely unusual of him--he was always so in order, so organized, sometimes he'd have panic attacks when things were out of order! And yet.. it looks like Dr. Flug made this mess of his lab himself. Sure, you hadn't been to his laboratory in a while, but how much could he have done to his space in that time? Saying the situation was confusing would be an understatement.

But out of everything in the room, one thing stood out to you the most. His closet--normally nice and organized.. it was now dirty, rustic, and one of the latches on the door was now broken. The atmosphere around it was.. intimidating, to say the least. The inside was extremely dark, with some of the darkness spilling out into the already dim laboratory. Hesitantly, you approached it, opening the unbroken door.

It looked somewhat like you suspected--heaps of clothes on the floor of the closet, instead of neatly hung up. Things were looking normal.. except for the blood on some of the clothes. Your mouth silently gaped open as to not draw much attention as you crouched down to inspect the clothes. Horrified, you found many more pieces of clothing with blood. Actually the whole pile. And it wasn't looking like it was his blood--no, it wasn't seeped into the clothes from the inside. It was splattered on, it was somebody else's.

You took a few shaky steps back. This wasn't real. It couldn't be. Flug wouldn't.. kill people, right? Part of you was open to the idea--he was a villain, after all. But he never went out of his way to kill..

You looked down at your now bloody palms. He wouldn't kill anyone in this fashion, either. ..Would he? Was he really that.. gruesome of a person? And you had no idea..?

While caught up and reeling in your own thoughts, you lacked the attention to notice Dr. Flug approaching you.

The last thing you remembered was blacking out.

Dr. Flug never intended for you to find out about any of this. The mess of his mental state, the mess of his lab, and the mess he's been making of.. other people. Maybe he could develop a mind erasing serum? Or.. would that be too easy? Perhaps he could just manipulate you into believing it was all a dream.. Either way, he was glad that chloroform-laced cloth came in handy after all.

So, as far as he knew, you would definitely not be supportive of what he was doing. He was doing all this for a misunderstanding in his eyes. You're always full of surprises, though. That's what he loves about you.

When he found out that you were totally okay with his obsessive tendencies, perhaps even supportive, Flug was completely over the moon. If it was possible to fall even deeper in love than he already was, he definitely did at that moment.

Knowing this, he doesn't keep you to himself. Now that he knows how much you love him in return, he has no reason to not trust you! Things can finally start going back to normal.. if uh.. homocide and killing sprees count as "normal" to you.

He's either smothering you with attention or as shy as a mouse. There's two sides of Dr. Flug that clash with each other when it comes to you. He wants to be forward with you--confident, mainly. But when he does, he backs out, becoming immediately flustered. Honestly, when the idea of you enjoying the idea of him killing for you settled into him.. he almost passed out. You really did make him the happiest scientist in the world.

The fact that you supported his actions just made him all the more confident about himself. Sometimes a bit upstuck. You thought what he was doing was righr, why shouldn't he? Whenever he killed someone, he no longer felt remorse. Instead, he felt excited to tell you what he did when he got home. And every time, you would give him the same praise and reassurance. Believe me, Flug is a sucker for praise.

Dr. Flug likes to brag to you about the horrible, awful things he's done. Sure, he loves praise, but actually recieving it makes him extremely flustered. Any "Good job" or "I'm proud of you" made him crumble on the inside. You were gonna be the death of him one of these days.

The two of you prefer to keep your relationship a secret for now and the forseeable future. After all, if Dr. Flug had got himself caught when murdering for you, you would be in trouble for just being associated with him. He wouldn't want that! Not in a million years. But of course, he would never let that happen.

Turns out, this seemed to be the best ending. I mean, who knows what would've happened if you denied him your love? Well, Flug would probably just develop a love potion of sorts. Either way, he's absolutely ecstatic things turned out this way. Despite the obviously very unhealthy relationship, the two of you were happy.. and that's all that mattered.

..Right?

#headcanons #x reader #request please #requests open #x reader headcanons #fluff #x reader hcs #villainous #dr flug/reader #dr flug x reader headcanons #yandere dr flug #dr. flug x reader #dr flug x reader #dr. flug #dr flug #minor angst #yandere villainous #yandere headcanons #yandere #villainous flug #flug #doctor flug #villainous x reader #villainous hcs #villainous headcanons #tw for blood and yandere themes #dead dove fic #dead dove do not eat #no beta we die like whoever tf flug was killing in this

[thesharktanksdriver]

Being a Magical Girl in Gotham (Platonic)

Part 1 Part 3 part 4

A continuation from the last part. I think I’m gonna later add stuff about y/n meeting other hero’s and villains plus some oneshots instead of just headcanon stories

Once again sorry/not sorry if characters are out of character . Also this is continuing y/n’a journey of continually getting more villains and hero’s to adopt them lol.

Y/n is literally becoming these Criminally insane villains’s emotional support child lol. And y’all can’t stop me from making that happen

Months within your friendship with Damien your a regular visit to the Wayne manor

And Damien is more than pleased with this since he now gets to brag to his older half-brothers

You can only giggle as the youngest Wayne drags you away before any of the others are able to talk to you

Damien at the manor enjoys spending time out in the garden with you

Having small picnics as Titus lounges beside the two of your in the grass near the expertly planted gardenias in full bloom

Turns out he likes helping Alfred with the garden quite a bit

Turns out he likes helping Alfred with the garden quite a bit

Turns out he likes helping Alfred with the garden quite a bit

Turns out he likes helping Alfred with the garden quite a bit

Turns out he likes helping Alfred with the garden quite a bit

Turns out he likes helping Alfred with the garden quite a bit

They even planted a small raspberry bush that only the two (now three) of them knew about

It’s rare to feel as if sunlight was a thing in Gotham but out here it’s almost rare that there wasn’t a beam of golden light hitting your face

If you make a flower crown for Damien he’ll wear it with a bit of bitching but the minute his brothers make a comment about it he’s pulling out his sword

Speaking of which, he shows you his sword collection!

An honour only you get to see without the threat of being stabbed as an extra bonus

He has a wide array of them, all from different areas of the world and different time periods

It’s actually really impressive

(Definitely asks if you want one and plans to get you one as a gift)

His room is bigger than your apartment and half the shit there would cover 4 months of rent

You don’t mention this though

He has a lot of imported furniture from what looks to be the Middle East and Asian descent

If you ask about it he’ll actually be really happy to explain their origin and history

He’s very passionate about history and seems to have a ton of knowledge on all arrays of most countries

Definitely gets worried when you mention have cup noodles for dinner 4 times in a row and demands you stay for dinner

You do and it ends up being really fun

At school after that he makes sure Alfred packs an extra lunch for you to have

Mr Wayne himself is actually really nice and much different from the Himbo he’s often portrayed as by the press

He’s extremely friendly to you, always offering a smile and small hello when Damien drags you off to wherever

He doesn’t seem to mind you being in his home infact he seems to encourage it

When Damien had chased his brother Dick around for trying to spy on you and him Bruce sat down and talked with you

He actually thanked you for making his son happy

Also asks if maybe he could speak to your parents sometime

You just say that their usually really busy abroad but you’d that get a letter from them since you don’t have a phone

You can tell by that alone he’s worried, like real worried at the thought of you basically living alone in a city like Gotham

A week later you forge a note from penguin lol. That man has good handwriting but definitely lost a few years on his life when you said it was for faking a note from your nonexistent parents

Bruce might be considering to adopt you and his sons are fully encouraging this

At some point in going to the manor you began sometimes helping Alfred with some small chores by delivering Bruce’s tea

He finds it to be a pleasant surprise and give him more opportunities to speak to you

Bruce finds you to be a impressive young lady. One who’s wise beyond their years and someone who has a unknown but similar weight on their shoulders

It worries him since he sees himself in your eyes

He begins connecting some dots about the rumours he’s heard about some young girl vigilante?, he’s not sure what exactly to label them as

But isn’t 100% sure it’s you since they apparently look 17 and your clearly 15

He puts a pin in it though

Anyways you can bet that he’s now inviting you to his gala’s so Damien more at ease plus give you a nice night to relax

He pays for clothes and even gifts them to you afterwards

The minute he finds out your an orphan you best bet he’s pulling out the papers-

Dick is super excited to meet you! Minus the fact that Damien is basically hissing at him and dragging you away

When he does get to speak to you he kinda reminds you of Nightwing with how pleasantly chatty he is

He asks about how your school is, if your enjoying your stay and what you think of lil Dami etc

Probably suggests to Damien about having you over for a sleepover and that he’ll take over his patrol for that night

Damien his heavily considering it

Probably calls you stuff like “kiddo!” And some alternation of your name

Has Alfred bring you and Damien snacks when y’all are hanging out

Listen he’s just really invested in the fact that Damien has a seemingly normal friend whom he cares for

It means he’s learning and adjusting to a relatively normal life outside of being Robin which was something he always worried about

Like Bruce he kinda gets worried about how your parents are apparently abroad and left you, a 15 year old child alone in Gotham of all places

Gets even more worried when you refuse to get a ride home

Sometimes spies but always gets caught and chased off by Damien who’s slightly annoyed

He means well

When you join for dinner he likes to tell a lot of stories and listen to your own

Basically already considers you a part of the family and is waiting for Bruce to slap out those papers

Might try to pry about who’s your favourite superhero just to see everyone at the table silently hope

His hope is crushed when you say it’s Wonder Woman

Then Everyone’s hood is crushed when you say your favourite male superhero is supermen

Clark probably hears their crushed souls from metropolis lol

Tim is just plain confused and wonders if your being paid or need help

He might love Damien as his little brother but he also has the scars to prove that little shit ain’t always a law abiding citizen

When he does realize though that Damien didn’t threaten you nor is paying you (why did he even jump to that conclusion?) he finds himself curious

Bruce forbids him from looking through your entire internet history and trying to find every possible trace of your existence

You notice early on how he’s addicted to coffee (just like Nightwing mentioned about red Robin)

Like with Bruce you help Alfred and deliver him some from time to time

This along with the limo rides with him and Damien give you the chance to actually talk to him

He’s really passionate about his goals, talking about his passions and plans in life

He seems to be hard working like you are, but to a worrying degree where he pushes himself to the limit (like you do)

It’s somewhat worrying to you as you find him lunched over his laptop with 6 empty mugs of coffee and bags under his eyes

You can’t say much since that would be hypocritical

But that doesn’t mean you can’t distract him for a bit as to give home a break he desperately needs!

You use Rigel to get his eyes away from his computer screen. The small white ferret making him pause as he scoops them up

Also riddles galore, some of which you might’ve borrowed from Riddler (he’d be so proud)

He’s pretty determined in getting to know you after a while, figuring out what you like and don’t, or what type of food you preferred

It might kinda seem a bit creepy at first but you realize that this is his way of trying to show his care. Odd but kinda amusing once you realize he told Alfred and now you have an entire menu catered to your taste

At some point he might’ve peaked at your records and is confused when he can’t find anything

He hasn’t told Bruce but he’s getting more worried when he digs deeper to see you seemingly live alone in a shit part of Gotham

Realllly wants to tell Bruce but also doesn’t cause that’ll mean he disobeyed him and might get another “friendly” visit from Damien’s batarangs

Whoops…oh the pain of being too smart

Jason shows up one day while your hanging out with Damien out of fucking nowhere

Like your just laying in the grass, petting Titus and then bam there’s a shadow looming over you

He seems kinda pleasantly surprised that “demonspawn” has a friend

Teases the shit out of Damien in front of you in a very big brother kinda way

Whenever he stops by he brings McDonald’s like a cool bring bother or uncle

Damien complains it’s bad for your health but stops when you mention that McDonald’s is something you can barely afford so you appreciate the free food

He may be a little shit but he’s not gonna be an asshole about that…at least not anymore compared to when he first arrived

He occasionally picks you and Damien up from school or drops by at lunch to deliver some special food from Alfred

One day when Damien was sick and it was raining hard when you didn’t have a proper jacket her gave you his leather one

He let you keep it, saying that he had plenty of other one’s and that you suit it better

Mentions literature a lot, even seems to have a small version of pride and prejudice tucked in his pocket

Jason likes to joke that his white streak in his hair is from learning about Damien having a BFF now

Damien in return calls him geezer and encourages you to do the same

He’s the person who immediately notices when you have any bruises other than Damien

Reallly tries to convince you to let them drive you home when you once mentioned the area you live in

He’s gonna get more white hair if you mention the fact that your apartment doesn’t have a proper lock on it and you have to prop a chair against the door

If Damien doesn’t gift you that sword soon he’s gonna give you a pocket knife

He fucking adores Rigel, loves it when the interdimensional god ferret lays in his hair

Takes photos and jokes that their now his white streak

You caught him using a baby voice with Rigel and his brothers won’t let him live (hah) it down

Alfred is half convinced that your some type of universal sign by some god lol

Best grandpa

He secretly bakes you and Damien cookies just for you two and even leaves some that have chocolate chip smiley faces

As stated before by Damien’s request he begins making you a lunch as well for Damien to deliver since he wants you to have a good meal

God knows how much he has wanted another calm person in this household

Sometimes in your lunches you find little bundles of fresh lavender and notes saying “have a splendid day” and “do your best”

He really appreciates you helping him out even though he didn’t ask. He mostly lets it happen so you have the chance to spend time with other members of the family

He makes little treats for Rigel

Due to Tim he has your taste narrowed down and always makes sure to have your favourites when you visit

May or may not have thought of room decor if Bruce adopted you

He senses your an orphan. He just knows but wants the others to figure it out rather than saying it

If you’ll indulge him he loves talking about old films and classic literature like Dracula

He was actually the one who introduced Jason to it and would love to turn their two person book club into 3

Finds Rigel very cute and lets the small animal curl around his neck

He finds it really nice if you want to join him in cooking and would most definitely teach you new recipes

Except his cookie recipe cause that one is a pennyworth family secret

You once tried to lie about not being sick and he gave you a knowing look before giving you a care package of his chicken noodle soup and some medicine

Your half convinced he’s not human but not in a bad way, more of a “is he a god?” Or “is he like Rigel” sorta way

You get legal advice from Harvey about the entire ordeal. The past DA offering to do more than just legal advice if you’d like

You say that you want to handle this on your own so he and two-face relent

But not before saying that the offer stills stands

Both Harvey and Two-face enjoy your presence for various different reasons but the important one is that you treat them as their own separate people

With Harvey you talk to him about what it was like going to collage and being the DA

He often talks about his friendship with Bruce and their crazy times when they were younger

He often wonders how he’s doing

You want to tell him but know that doing so could reveal who you possibly are

Probably tells you if the time Bruce “accidentally” poured wine on an asshole professor in a white suit after harassing a few female students

Probably tells you legal loopholes that your not supposed to know but you appreciate it anyways

Two-face on the other hand is kinda more difficult to talk to but once you get past his walls he talks and talks

Most definitely tells you how to pick locks and evade taxes, I’m sorry but that’s what he’s gonna teach you

At some point he probably offers to “talk” to your landlord about why he illegally raised your rent

Tells you about how corrupt the world actually is

Teaches you to flip a coin

He and Harvey get a lot of bouts of pain due to the burns so there are times they’ll go quiet out of trying to deal with it

With maybe a little magic from Rigel you make a special burn cream that helps alleviate that pain

Listen…you get he’s a bad person and all but you don’t like seeing people in pain

It’s been that way ever since you were young and having to watch kids your age suffer

Maybe it was always in your nature to help others no matter how much it weighed on you

It’s probably the reason why Rigel had chosen you in the first place

Yeah, that makes sense

Mr freeze is kinda a sad grandpa that you find yourself visiting to check up on

You had fought his shadowmite when the anger from his wife’s condition rose up again

After that your welcomed to his small lab for as long as you can due to the cold

He often laments about Nora. How she would’ve loved to meet you

You always say that she will one day which gets a small melancholic smile

You can only spend up to maybe 30-45 minutes with him before your begin to freeze despite you changing your magical uniform to better suit the temperature

If you request it he’ll show you how to ice skate and finds it really amusing if you succeed and then slip into a pile of snow

Speaking of snow, you like to leave little snow men hidden around for him to find

He sometimes talks to Nora’s body about you when alone. He mentions how he’s been feeling a bit better as of late due to you popping by

You don’t know this but he and Nora always wanted a child. So having you around kinda helps fill a hole in his heart that he long thought was frozen over with grief

I like to think that in his spare time he’s taken up knitting and made you a pair of matching mittens, scarf and hat

Their a teal blue with little snowflakes designs on them with maybe a little hidden snowman

He sometimes sneaks in ice or snow puns to watch you process it for a minute and then laugh

It makes his day

Probably tells you that if you need a good murder weapon he can make you a good icicle that’ll melt away therefore removing evidence

It’s hard to think he’s a super villain until he brings up shit like that

If you literally give him anything as a gift he’ll end up cherishing it

You actually end up meeting Waylon by accident in the sewers since you use them as a kinda secret passageway across Gotham

Your surprised at meeting the literal giant man who looks like a crocodile but you don’t end up panicking much

Same shit different day in Gotham

He lets you pass and even guide you to where you needed to go

After that it kinda becomes a system of meeting him and talking as he guides you through the Sewers (even if you knew them by heart at this point)

You like giving him leftovers that you have even if you also need them

The two of you now have a small tradition of sitting and enjoying a cup of ramen once in awhile

He teaches you a few French phrases and tells you of New Orleans

Talking of the mixed French and American culture of the city

At some point he probably tells you to visit for him if you get the chance. You promise to do so and being back a souvenir for him

Of all villains you feel the most sympathy for him. Someone who was born with something that they couldn’t control and being ostracized by society for it

Eventually becoming what they feared in the first place to survive

At some point you trust him enough to tell him about how you live alone. Barely getting enough to scrape by and living in a shitty apartment after running away from an orphanage

He lets you sit on his shoulder despite the fact you can basically fly a few feet off the ground

Also likes to mess up your hair with his giant clawed hands

He always makes sure to be slow just in case cause he doesn’t want to accidentally hurt you. You tell him he doesn’t and that you felt with worse but that in turn makes him even more gentle in being near you

During the winter you buy him a heater incase his condition also leads him to being cold blooded (which he is)

He definitely appreciates it since winters are really rough for him

Definitely finds the contrast of cute, small innocent magical girl and then giant, hulking, scaled lizard man being friends to be hilarious

During this time you begin to notice the Shadowmites kinda begin to thin out

It makes you a bit more relaxed and off guard (big mistake)

What had initially started out as a small gathering of them soon evolved into them all attacking at once

Biting and clawing as you did your best to stop them

By the end of it your left barely conscious, their hosts left laying on the ground passed out from having their energy drained

You could only hope they’d be ok as you find yourself stumbling towards the only place you could think of

Library

You move purely out of instinct, your body moving on its own as your weakened abilities help you move from rooftop to rooftop

Today was luckily one of the days you’d meet up with Hood, at least meaning if you passed out there you’d be relatively safe since your apartment was too far away

When you get there you almost sob out of relief when seeing his red helmet that matched the colour leaking from your form

Dark blotches of red contrasting against the lighter colours of your uniform

#platonic #dc x reader #jason todd x reader #damien wayne x reader #dick grayson x reader #bruce wayne x reader #killer croc x reader #waylon jones x reader #two face x reader #Harvey deny x reader #Mr freeze x reader #magical girl y/n

[honey-flustered]

Cruel Little Vixen 6

Rockstar!Perv!Eddie Munson x Journalist!Reader

Summary: It seems like whenever you and Eddie are happily content in your relationship, everyone else is miserable. What happens when your job and his fame is on the line once the secret’s out?

NO READ MORE LINE BREAK ADDED DUE TO GLITCH

A/N: I want to thank you guys again for the immense amount of support! I swear I never expected this series to blow up the way it did but I am so fucking grateful. No words can describe it ❤️❤️ This chapter’s a little angsty, little fluffy. It was supposed to be a really long chapter but I’ve decided to split it into the next chapter but it’ll still be about two chapters left. I’m sorry I took soooo long it’s been one hell of a week but I do hope you all enjoy!! SMUT NEXT CHAPTER GONNA GO BRAZY

>>>>Series Masterlist Part 6 of 8

Word Count: 8.5k+

Warnings: angsty, fluffy fluff 😊❤️, soft!eddie, boyfriend!eddie, needy!eddie, yandere!eddie makes a small appearance, fighting/little violence, little crying, reader paints eddie’s nails, small dirty talk from the metalhead, kissing, handholding, secret relationship, reader has an enemy, marijuana ingestion, Stevie Nicks appearance, special gift from reader to Eddie 💕

“Hold still. You’re gonna mess it up.” You giggle.

Eddie’s sat between your legs, slumped with his head on your chest. The way he insisted you to paint his nails because “it’ll be like painting your own nails”. Although, you knew the real reason was an excuse to rest his head on the pillowy mounds.

You didn’t mind, though. You found him so adorable, staring up at you with those big round eyes and a goofy smile on his face. He’s much more manageable when he’s in this state of bliss.

“You’re taking so long,” He groans.

“I’m almost done, ya big baby.” You say, kissing his forehead. He smiles, rubbing your thigh with his free hand.

You blow on the last finger you’ve painted, him studying the way your full lips pursed. The cool air sending shivers down his spine. Part of him wishes you hadn’t felt it but the other part of him wants you to know the effect you had on him.

He’s never been so vulnerable with any woman he’s dated. It was always surface level, figuring it was just easier that way. He believes it stems from his days back in high school when not many girls cared to look in his direction. He was “The Freak” after all and associating with him was social suicide. He’d like to imagine that if things had gone differently back then with your interaction with him, you’d accept him fully as he was. Nerd and all.

“All done!” You snap him from his thoughts. He looks down at his fingernails painted a deep, dark shade of blue.

“Looks great, little vixen. Should we try them out?” He peels away from your body now facing you. Pulling you by your legs so their spread apart. He climbs in between them, hands traveling up both thighs.

“I think they’d look great riiight…” Eddie presses two fingers against your clothed core, applying pressure. “Here.”

“No, Eddie,” You sigh. “As much as, I’d love to christen this hotel room. Your manager and your stylist will be stopping by soon. If they see me in your clothes, they’ll know for sure we’re sleeping together.”

“What does it matter? It’s like you want this to be a secret or something.”

“Well…yeah.” You twiddle with your fingers, nervously.

“Really? Huh. This is bringing up some unresolved high school trauma.” Eddie says, looking into space.

“I thought this was what we both wanted? To protect our careers?”

“I don’t remember having this talk.”

“Then, let’s have it now. We have to keep us a secret. If my boss finds out, he might pull the exposé and that’ll be the end of my career. As for you, rockstar, you’re supposed to be living that bachelor lifestyle. Having a girlfriend is only going to ruin that image. Your manager wouldn’t like that.”

“Fuck him.”

“Eds…if not for me, then do it for yourself. You’re living out your wildest dreams. You used to play in shady garages and ghost town venues wishing you could prove yourself. Now you’re touring the world, performing side by side with the greats of our time. This is your moment.”

“Okay.” He says in a dry tone.

“You mad at me?” You pout, rubbing your head on his shoulder like a cat and staring up at him,

His expressionless face instantly attempts to fight off a smile, clearly amused. “You look so cute in my sweater how can I be mad. But ya know what’d make me feel really good?”

You clamped your thighs together, adjusting yourself in the oversized sweater so you looked halfway decent. “Your manager’ll show up any moment now.”

“I just want a kiss.”

“I have to leave while I still have time.”

“You’re really gonna leave me hangin’?” He smiles innocently but the sinister aura around him says otherwise.

Yet, you lean in to kiss him anyway, falling into his trap of temptation. Could such sinful lips ever carry innocence? No, they were made to cause destruction. Bring you to your end. You were losing track of reality. Kissing him disregards space and time.

“Get it together, y/n! He wants this. Pull away! You know what this lead to.” Says the angel on your shoulder.

But the louder, ‘much more fun to listen to’ demon on your shoulder says, “FUCK THAT! KISS THE BOY! KISS HIM HARDDD!”

And you did so while climbing him like a tree. He moans his approval, nails digging into your plushy thighs. You circle your hips down, feeling him growing beneath.

Then, you hear the unmistakable sound of Eddie’s obnoxiously loud manager…In front of Eddie’s door!!

Curse that hedonistic bitch in me.

You roll off him, eyes searching for a place to hide just as you hear a knock.

“This is your fault.” You whisper.

“My fault?!” He whisper-yells.

“Tell me where to hide.”

“The closet?”

“They’ll go through your wardrobe.”

“Underneath the bed?”

You exhaled deeply, lowering to the ground. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. This is college all over again.”

“You’ve gotta tell me that story sometime.” He says, intrigued.

The sounds of banging grows louder. Eddie strides for the door, looking back to make sure that you’re hidden as you roll underneath the bed.

You hear the door locks click open and Mr. Neds immediately begins ranting at Eddie. “What took you so long, kid? We’re on crunch time. The boys are nearly dressed and you haven’t even changed out of your loungewear. And that hair! It’s all over the place!Where’s the hairstylist I sent up here?”

So that was all the knocking earlier this morning while you were resting in Eddie’s arms. Neither of you wanting to get up from exhaustion of your sexual marathon and because it meant breaking the cycle of warmth you both provided one another.

“My hair’s fine. My fans dig it this way.” Eddie defends.

“There’s an art to messy hair, Francis. Your hair’s not rockstar messy, it’s just messy. I’m calling another hairstylist. Maeve, pick out something that screams ‘sex symbol’.” Mr. Neds orders, walking out the room.

“Hello, Mr Francis,” The stylist greets, excitedly. “I’ll be your stylist for this tour. When I’m done, you’ll look as good as Mick Jagger. Although…you already are quite good looking.”

You roll your eyes at this. Here we go.

“I’m a huge fan by the way. Possibly the biggest fan.”She giggles, a hint a seduction paints her words.

“I like when pretty girls like you listen to my music.” You can just hear the smugness in his voice. He’s clearly aware that you’re listening in all of this, possibly thinking he could make you jealous. Ha! Not gonna happen.

She giggles some more. “You think I’m pretty?”

“Course I do, doll.”

Doll?! That bastard!

“I’ll go pick out your clothes and maybe…you could get out of those clothes. I can help you if you’d like.”She lays it on thick.

You’re sure that Eddie’s going to push this further to get a rise out of you. You can already feel your blood begin to boil, your heart aching. Instead, you’re stunned to hear him drop the act.

“Actually, Maeve...I’ll pass. Hope you can respect that.”

“Oh, a-are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” She grumbles in defeat. “I’ll get started with the outfit choices then.”

You smile to yourself, impressed. You hadn’t realize just how devoted Eddie was to this relationship. He meant it when he said you were his and he couldn’t possibly think of hurting you in such a way and messing things up.

The door swings open again and Mr. Neds walks in along with bandmate, Mel Tomas. Mel does a spin around flashing his look for Eddie to see. “I’m not sure how she’ll top this look for you. Pretty sure I’m hot enough to be the new favorite of the band.” He flexes his arms.

Eddie gestures discreetly with his eyes, calling the attention of the bass guitarist. Mel confused at first, scratches his head only for his eyes to immediately widen when he spots you beneath. You wave and smile awkwardly.

“Anyone want towels?” Mel blurts.

“What?” Mr. Neds questions. “The hell would we need towels for?”

“You’re looking a little sweaty, big guy. No worries. I’ll get the towel cart from the hall and bring it in here.” Mel projects his voice, hinting his plan while causing Maeve and Mr. Neds to stare in utter bewilderment.

Mel returns with the cart. Eddie doing all he can to stifle his laughter, watching him roll it in for you. For you to climb into the bottom shelf. A towel is draped over the sides to keep you from being spotted. He throws a towel for everyone in the room to keep any suspicions. “Going into the hallway now.” He calls out.

It’s a good thing he didn’t go into acting.

Once you’re a far distance enough, you crawl out and brought yourself to your feet. Mel shakes his head at you. “Et tú, y/n?”

“I know what it looks like…but it’s really not what you think it is.”

“I think it looks like you two are a thing.”

“Okay, so it is what you think. Please don’t tell anyone.” You clasp your hands together, pleading.

“Your secret’s safe with me. I’m just surprised Eddie managed to win you over.”

“Ughh, you say it like I’m some trophy.” You roll your eyes.

“Didn’t mean any offense. It’s just you’re so much badass than he’ll ever be.” He laughs, nudging your shoulder.

You flip your hair dramatically, smirking. “This is why you’re the smart one.”

—————

Mantra•esque. It was this generation’s Woodstock. 4 days of the hottest artists performing and Corroded Coffin’s making its large scale debut. People took this festival very seriously. Both when it came to the musical performances and the way you dress. You don’t go dressed in a casual t-shirt with your favorite band plastered on it. No. This was meant to be treated as if going to a rave. Brightly colored, scantily clad outfits that leave little to the imagination; Glitter makeup and wild hair; Eccentric shoes and body bedazzle, it was the time to dress like the hottest alien in town. A second halloween, if you will. Only even sluttier.

You’ve heard nothing or seen anything like it but it’s eye opening to say the least. With the help of your best friend over the phone, you’d managed to pick out a butterfly-themed rave look of a pink body suit accompanied with wings, fishnet tights, combat boots, body glitter and makeup.

Eddie didn’t let you out of his sight the moment you’d made it to the festival pit. He wouldn’t risk any guy trying to sweet talk you and him not being able to do anything about it.

He takes your hand and you know you should pull your hand away since there are all these witnesses. Yet, you romanticized the idea of him shamelessly holding your hand to show you off as his.

“When do you and the boys go up?”

“We go right Hell’s Fury. They’re a new band, too. They’re not so bad. The lead guitarist could use some lessons though.”

“Can’t you give a compliment without backhanding it.” You laugh.

“It’s not a backhanded compliment. It’s criticism and feedback. You of all people should understand, little miss journalist.”

“Well, that may be true but—” You let out an audibly gasp when you reach around the backstage, spotting a the very famous Stevie Nicks of Fleetwood Mac. “T-t-that’s Ste—Do you know who that is?!”

“Of course I—”

“Stevie Nicks!” You interrupt, shrieking.

“That was right in my ear,” Eddie says, wagging a finger in his ear. “Wanna go over to meet her?”

“N-no way. I couldn’t. They say you should never meet your heroes. What if she doesn’t like me?”

“Not possible. You get a chance to be this close to her. Ya gotta go for it.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m just gonna walk up and say ‘hi’.” You stood frozen, paralyzed by fear.

“You’re not moving.” Eddie whispers.

“I will!” You say, defiantly as you continue to still in position.

He sighs. “I’ve got this, little one.”

He walks forward. You follow quickly behind him, hiding yourself like a scared kitten as you peeked over his shoulder.

Stevie Nicks spots your approach, amused when you shy away from her gaze. Eddie breaks the ice, chatting her up and introducing himself before making the final introduction for you.

“This is Y/n, she’s…my g—good friend.” He saves his near slip of the tongue. “Come on, Don’t be shy.”

He steps out of the way, revealing you to the singer. Your knees knock from your evident trembling. “M-m-my name is Y/n. B-but you already know that because h-h-he just introduced me. I’m a huge fan and I-I just wanted to say hi. So…hi!”

You say the last part a bit too loudly, causing her to jolt back but her smile never falters. Eddie smiles as well, entertained by the idea that you do actually fangirl.

It was clear to Stevie that there was something more between you. It was Stevie freaking Nicks. She sensed these things and the tension radiating between you two was as heated as the sun. “Isn’t it interesting how two people from very different worlds find each other?”

“Huh?” You both say simultaneously.

She giggles. “It was lovely meeting you, Y/n. Here,” She turns her attention to Eddie, removing the shawl around her shoulders and handing it to him. “A gift from me…to you…to her. Let her know you’ve got her and there’s no need to fight the feeling. I’ve gotta go in 5 but this was nice. Lookin’ forward to seeing you play, Francis. Good luck.”

She walks off, joining her group and leaving you soaring in your mind. You twirled around to face Eddie, jumping up and down in excitement. “You heard what she said. That’s for me.”

“She also said to stop fighting the feeling, yet you do. All the time. I’m starting to believe the old man at the diner was speaking specifically about you.“

“So I shouldn’t fight the rage I’m feeling towards you right now?” You hissed.

“What if…I give you your gift after the show?”

“Or…” You quickly retrieve the shawl, wrapping it around his neck and tugging him closer to you. “I could have it now and you’ll be rewarded for introducing me to my idol.”

You tug at the ends of the apparel a final time, forcing his lips to collide against yours. He smiles into the kiss and it makes you do the same. Once you pulled away, you snake the shawl from around him and brought it to your shoulders.

“What can I say? I had to stand up for my girl,” You blush at his words only to immediately sneer as the next sentence leave his lips. “You were such a goddamn scaredy cat.”

“It’s Fleetwood Mac.” You say, matter-of-factly.

“I mean, Stevie Nick’s great and all…but she’s no Metallica or Ozzy.”

“Oh, Quit the ‘cool dude’ act. I saw you blushing when she said she’d be watching you on stage. Also, I may have done some digging in your hidden cassettes collection. I know for sure you were internally screaming in her presence. Nothing to be ashamed of, though. Just means you’ve got great taste.”

He scrunches up his nose in adorably feigned anger. “You’re too nosy for your own good.”

“It’s only ever for my own good.”

——————

“You go on in 15, boys,” Mr. Neds announces, bum-rushing through the dressing trailer. “Pull yourselves together. Junie, ya getting this?”

“Ya know it, boss.” The photographer says, flashing the boys for another photo and blinding them.

“Hey! What happened to the photographer my boss specifically chose to accompany me?” You inquire the manager, crossing your arms.

“Oh, that guy? He didn’t make the cut. I’m looking for state of the art photos iconic enough to be plastered in every teen girl’s bedroom. Junie, here, knows what the girls want.” Mr. Neds says, pridefully. He pats his photographer on the shoulder, leaving the trailer to talk about their plans for a calendar edition.

“That’s disturbing,” You muttered before noticing the state of anxiety the boys were currently in. Each boy having their own fears.

Mel’s worries involved his outfit not being flashy enough. Judas’s worries involved his many exes being in the crowd seeking his head. Jessie’s worries involve his irrational fear of him popping a boner on stage while performing his drum solo.

Then there was Eddie, who was a mix of all their anxieties and more. What if he missed a beat, or he sings off key, or his hand cramps up during his guitar solo? He was THEE Francis the Freak. The lead man. The one who inspired the band itself. There was no room to fuck up or it meant the end for all of Corroded Coffin.

“You boys don’t look so good.” You say, concerned.

“I’ve gotta change my clothes.” Mel says, rushing over to the clothing rack.

“I’ve gotta find a helmet.” Judas says, also rummaging through wardrobe.

“I’ve gotta get duct tape.” Jessie searches through a nearby drawer.

Confused, you shook your head focusing on your boyfriend. “Eddie…you okay?”

“I don’t know about this, Y/n. Maybe we’ll just call this a night.”

“You can’t! You’ve performed in front of a crowd before. I’ve seen you up there. There’s nothing to be afraid of. You’re amazing.”

“You’ve seen me in decently-sized venues. But this…the whole world’s watching,” He lets out a dry laugh. “This was Corroded Coffin’s dream. The real Corroded Coffin. My buddies Gareth, Sid and Jeff were the ones meant to be by my side rocking the fuck out, headbanging, and saying ‘fuck all’ to whoever. But now it’s just me with these random dudes and I’m supposed to pretend like it’s always been this way.”

You hug around his waist, pressing your cheek against his chest. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. But your friends are probably watching somewhere back in Hawkins, waiting to see you live out your moment. They wouldn’t want you to miss this opportunity because of them. Would they?”

He shakes his head ‘no’.

“Exactly. Again, if this isn’t what you want then you don’t have to go out there. But if it is, then you show them who you are. You’re not just Francis. You’re Eddie Munson of Hawkins, Indiana. The Freak with insane guitar skills and crazy vocals. The mop-headed metalhead that shredded ‘Master of Puppets’ in a room full of boring Hollywood executives. You aren’t you because you’re famous. You’re who you are because that’s just who you are. No other explanation. And even if things get overwhelming and you decide you’ve had enough of this, you’ll always have me cheering you on in the sidelines because I believe in you. I always did.” You look up at him, feeling him let out a breath of relief.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” You gave him a small smile.

“That makes me feel a whole lot better.”

“Knew it would,” You say, brushing your shoulder in a celebratory manner. “You go and get those boys together. You’ve got a crowd to amaze.”

He nods, a newfound confidence taking over. Striding over to his silly bandmates, he cups his hands over his mouth to project his voice. “Hey, fuckwads,” The boys quickly halt their actions, turning their attention to the leas singer. He continues. “We’ve got 10 minutes before it’s showtime and you’re all acting as if you were caught with your hands on your dicks.”

Eddie pauses, glaring at Jessie who quickly pulls his hands out of his jeans.

“This isn’t new to us. We’ve been here before. It’s bigger and scarier. No doubt. But we’re better than this. We’re better than that fucking Hell’s Fury band and they went out there despite having the world’s shittiest guitarist. No more backing out. No more excuses. Today’s the day to prove ourselves. Now are we gonna rock the fuck out or not?!”

“I was born ready, ya cunt.” Judas chortles.

“Watch your female-targeted language. There’s a lady in here, you fuckin idiot.” Jessie disapproves.

“Sorry. ‘I was born ready, ya vagina.’ Satisfied?”

“I’m ready, too.” Mel chimes in.

“Then, let’s do this shit,” Eddie says, encouragingly. “We’ve got 5 minutes until spotlight. We’re movin out.”

With that, the boys hooted and hollered before rushing out of the trailer. Eddie nearly running behind them when he notices you staying back.

“You coming?”

“I won’t be standing side stage. I’ll lay my blanket front row with all the other sleazy journalists,” You quip. “That way you won’t have to constantly look on the side of you to make sure I’m there.”

“But I’ll be able to see you, right?”

“Of course…ooh!” You were just reminded of something. Rummaging through your small butterfly-winged backpack, you pulled out a little gift. “I was gonna wait til after the performance but I think you might need it. Just for a little boost.”

He looks down at it and smiles. It was the famous green mushroom sweater that he’d complimented you for years ago.

“You’ve given me enough gifts so that’s my gift to you.”

“Thanks, little vixen,” His famous smile returns, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “This’ll be perfect. See you after the show?”

“I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be waiting for you.”

——————

You quickly went to take your place in the front, noticing the band’s manager walking briskly up and down near the stage. The photographer beside him, flashing away with his camera at the empty stage.

“Have a seat, you two,” You say, patting the clear space on your blanket. “All this pacing back and forth and flashing is giving me headache. You’re going to ruin the experience for everyone.”

“I can’t help it! My ass is on the line with these boys.” Mr. Neds voices.

“Have a little faith. Now sit down or I’ll make the crowd revolt against you.” You threatened.

“Ughh, fine.” Mr. Neds plops down.

“The camera boy, too.” You ordered.

“But…”

“Sit!”

He quickly, sits down. “It’s Junie by the way. Not camera boy.”

“Don’t care.” You shrug.

The stage lights wave around at the crowd before shutting off. The stage going dark. Everyone waits in anticipation. Silence. The sound of a guitar rift pierces the air and the clashing of cymbals ring out then you hear one that familiar guttural screamo voice as the song “Follow the Leader” begins to play.

“Take me to your leader. I will fuck him up then eat her. I’m fuckin bottom feeder. A fiending twisted creature…”

The lights flash up, revealing the band. The crowd goes berserk, screaming and immediately rising to their feet to dance.

Mr. Neds’s big smile quickly falls flat. “What the fuck is he wearing?”

Eddie had removed the ripped up tank top shirt that the stylist had given him. Instead he’s shirtless, donning your mushroom sweater.

“Whoooo!” You cheered on, jumping and clapping as the song picked up. Even Junie had eaten up the look, taking pictures of the band in every angle he could think of.

Once Mel takes over with vocals, Eddie shoots you a quick wink and you nearly fangirled yourself. Maybe someday, you’ll let him know that you were secretly a new fan of his. Once his ego deflates, of course.

Assuming that’s something that could possibly happen.

You felt your stomach grumble when you spot Junie scarfing down a brownie.

“Where’d you get that?” You ask.

“Some really nice girls over there said it’ll be just what I need. I wasn’t even aware I was hungry.”

“Let me get a bite. I’m starved.”

He hands it over to you. You bite into it and it tasted slightly off. Aside from that, it was the right texture. Soft and sweet.

“This is so good.” You moaned.

“I know right.” Junie through bites.

“Wanna bite, Mr.Neds?” You offered.

“No, my blood sugars already so high, my stress levels are through the roof, my diet’s gone to shit…”

“Boy, you need a vacation. More for me and Junie boy.” You say, popping another piece into your mouth.

———

After two encores, the band finished their first day on stage. 3 more days to go and so far it looks to be a success. Once all performances ended, it was time for the after party. A large bonfire set up.

By this point, a familiar feeling took over you. The same feeling you felt when you smoked that joint with Eddie back home. Then, you realized…you were high as fuck. Higher than a motherfucking kite. This is exactly what your mother warned you about all those years. Taking goodies from a stranger is bad. Very bad.

You and Junie were laughing away at just about anything. “I don’t know if you noticed this, Junie, but we just ate pot brownies.”

“I’ve never been high.” He laughs.

“Neither have I up until about couple weeks ago.” You huffed another fit of laughter.

“You’re both idiots,” Mr. Neds mutters. “You’ve got jobs to do. Search for those boys and take some pictures and write something inspirational. Time is money.”

“Take a chill pill.” You say, rolling your eyes. Standing to your feet, you began your search for Eddie through the crowd. The thing about these hippie festivals is that every long-haired man reminded you of him.

“Eddie?!” You say turning over a random guy. Not him. Then another. And another until you bumped into a hard chest. You quickly turned to apologize. “S-sorry. I’m looking for my boyfriend—hey! I know you! You’re that prick photographer from Billy’s bar. You set me up with that photo. I hope you know.”

“Why is it that I always happen to meet you when you’re under the influence?”

“I’m not drunk, okay. I’m just a little high. Excuse me for thinking people give away brownies for the kindness of it all. What are you doing here, anyway?“

“I travel where the story goes. I also follow celebrities in search for my next project. And I’ll have you know, I didn’t take that picture of you and Francis.”

“You expect me to believe you? You can wait til hell freezes over and I wouldn’t believe you. Now if you’ll excuse me…”

Just as you were about to walk away, he stops you in his tracks as he says, “Why? Looking to meet up with your boyfriend…Francis?”

“What are you talking about?”

“So where’s that boyfriend you’ve been looking for? If not Francis, then who’s the lucky man?” He says, dropping the innocent act.

“I have no idea what you’re trying to insinuate but Francis and I…are strictly professional.”

“Then, show me your boyfriend.”

“I don’t need to.”

“Because you have something to hide.”

“Because it’s none of your fucking business!”

“I’m her boyfriend,” You hear behind you. It was Junie the photographer, unceremoniously yet heroically stumbling over to you. “So back off buddy.”

“And you’re expecting me to believe this loser’s with you?” Cole laughs.

“Let’s go, Junie.” You grab his hand only for Cole to break the contact.

“Let’s be honest here, Y/n,” Cole invades your space. “Creative to Creative. We both know the truth.”

“Leave us alone.” You growl, trying to leave but Cole continues to block your path. A crowd soon beginning to form.

“Let us go!” Junie attempts to swing at Cole, who catches his fist in midair, punching him so hard it knocks him backward. The back of Junie’s head rears back, slamming against your mouth as you catch him before he could hit the ground. Your lips split and bleed but you ignore the sting, tending to the poor guy.

“Junie!” You call out, worried, before shooting daggers at Cole. “You asshole!”

“Hey, man. That’s not cool.” Says a voice from the crowd.

“None of this concerns you! Any of you. This is business! The whore’s not gonna get away with it.”

“Say that again.” A familiar voice says, the crowd parts a path for a very heated Eddie.

Cole smiles, wickedly. “Finally! This is what the fuck I’ve been waiting for. A goddamn hell of a story.”

Eddie sees you on your knees, cradling the wounded photographer. He sees red when he spots your busted lip, stomping forward towards his target.

“Eddie! Wait!” You forgotten to use his stage name around the crowd, more concerned with stopping him from doing anything that would get him in serious trouble. He looks back at you, still pissed as ever. You warm up your expression. “Don’t do it. Let’s just get out of here.”

He clenches and unclenches his fists. Cole convinced that he wouldn’t dare listen to you as a hotheaded rockstar. But Eddie does, glaring at the sorry excuse of a man one last time before helping you up as well as Junie.

“I’m sorry,” He says, regretfully. “I should’ve looked for you. It was just so many people that I couldn’t get to you.”

“It’s okay. You��re here now.” You smiled. Patting Junie on the shoulder, Eddie led the way to leave. The crowd cheers and it causes the testosterone in the instigating enemy to rise.

“Have fun with another one of your whores, Francis.” Cole calls out.

Eddie stops in his tracks and you knew all hell will break loose. “No, Eddie. Don’t!”

He turns on his heels, rushing over to the heckling fool. Cole believes he’ll get a one up on Eddie, swinging his fist to connect with his face. Eddie reverses this action using Cole’s own hand to punch him square in the face.

The crowd cheers and laughs as a disoriented Cole falls back into the dirt.

Walking back over to you, Eddie rolls his shoulders to release any tension. “You’re my witness. He punched himself.”

———-

The night started out celebratory. The group popping champagne in Eddie’s hotel room. It was supposed to be a night out in town to end the night right but the boys had another 3 days to perform so they would soon be heading to bed.

“You were incredible, Junie. Super brave. Thank you for coming to my rescue.” You say, squeezing his hand.

“Yeah, that was pretty badass.” Eddie compliments.

“Aww, it’s no big. Always wanted to get in a fight with a guy that looked like my high school bully.” Junie comments.

“So that’s why I got my ass kicked at my party. You two were an item the entire time,” Jessie says. “You gonna kick every guy’s ass that even remotely stands near her?”

“Oh, hell yeah. 100%.” Eddie affirms.

“What did I tell you?” You say, tugging on his ear. “I can handle myself.”

“Ow, ow, ow. My ears are still freshly pierced.” Eddie hisses.

The group laughs and the festivities continue up until there’s a hard knock on the door that halts it altogether. Eddie answers the door and the look on his manager’s face indicated that this was no joyous news.

“Awww, what is it now? You’re harshing our mellow, man.” Eddie groans.

“Yeah, what’s got your knickers in a twist?” Judas questions.

“The executive editor of Hey Hello Magazine is thinking of pressing charges.” Mr. Neds says, solemnly.

“Why would the editor…oh my god?” It just hit you that Cole was not only a photographer but a writer of that magazine.

“What is going on with you, Eddie? I used to beg you to take on the bad boy persona in interview now all of a sudden your exactly that,” Mr. Neds sighs. “You’ve fought your bandmate and now you’re getting into fights with influential writers? What is it? What’s making you act out of control?”

Eddie glanced over his shoulder, back at you. You shake your head, fearing he’s give it up.

He looks back at his manager. “It’s nothing…. The dickhead started it first. I didn’t punch him. He punched himself and he’s too embarrassed to admit it.”

“No more of these shenanigans, Eddie. You’re actions have consequences. To lessen your erratic behavior, I’ve come up with a solution you won’t like but it’s for your own good. I’ll be assigning you all bodyguards.”

“Nooo.” “What the fuck?” “Are kidding me?” The boys protest all at once.

“Yes. Because even if you didn’t start the fight, people will look for a fight just to ruin your careers because of jealousy and greed. People are searching for big payouts and assault from a famous star is their big break. But luckily for you, the editor has agreed to drop all charges on one condition.”

“What?” Eddie asks.

“He wants a meeting…with your journalist.”

“Hell no.” He growls.

“It’s not your choice. It’s the lady’s. So..whadya say say, Y/n?” Mr. Neds turns his attention to you.

“I’ll do it.” You say with no hesitation.

“Great! I’ll make the arrangements.”

Eddie glares at you. “Would you all excuse me? I’m going to escort my journalist to her room. She’s not thinking straight with all the pot she’s ingested.”

He takes your hand, leading you out his door and towards yours. “What the hell? Why’d you agree to it? It’s only what he wants.”

“Because it’ll get him to shut up. He’s riding the high of this story he thinks he’ll get from me and you.. His issues are with me and only I can end it.”

“If I knew the journalism world was this bad, I would’ve never signed up for this expose and put you through this.”

“But then we’d never be the way we are now. I don’t regret that. Do you?”

“Of course not.”

“Then, let me do this for you.” You cup his face, fingers laced in his curls.

He nods.

“You looked good in my sweater, by the way.” You smiled, playfully.

He smirks. “Wanna taken it off?”

“I want to. So bad and so much. But I’m sooo high.”

“That’s one of the best time to fuck.”

“Everyone’s right across the hall and I don’t think I’m sober enough to be quiet. Buuut… you can put me to bed in the non-sexual way.” You smiled, turning around and pulling off your tiny bag and the shawl for him to access your zipper.

He lowers it, slowly bringing down your bodysuit to kiss your shoulder. It all felt so sensual. The bodysuit pools around your feet. Your bare breasts make contact with the cool air, sensitive buds hardening. You were only in your black thong and fishnets.

He runs his large hands over the front of your thighs, pressing his erection against your ass. Hooking his index fingers in the sides of your tights, he brings them down your legs as well.

When you felt him try to do the same with your panties, you pull away. “You’re being naughty.”

“Why are you being such a tease?” He groans. “I thought you were mine.”

“I am yours.”

“Then, show me.”

You chuckled, crawling onto your bed on all fours. You exaggerated the arch in your back, ass in the air as you swayed side to side. Then, you roll into the shawl wrapping it around you and shielding your breasts from his eager eyes.

“I’m not gonna fuck you, Eddie.”

“Hope you know that this will be the most energetic I’ll be for these few days. If you don’t take advantage now…you’ll regret it.” He singsongs the last part.

“Goodnight.” You singsong back, curling up to your pillow.

He couldn’t help but laugh, staring down at your exhausted figure. Pulling the blanket over you, He kisses your forehead. “No more taking brownies from strangers.”

“Yes, daddy.” You mumbled, drifting off to sleep.

He tries to remove the shawl around you but you grip it tighter in your slumber. With one last smile, he shuts off the lights and leaves you to dream peacefully.

——————-

The next day would be hell for you and Eddie. You didn’t even get the chance to see him much. His entire day was spent rehearsing for day two of tonight’s festival. Meanwhile, you’d gotten a call from Murray who was very disappointed in you for being behind on your work, so you spent your day writing with little motivation.

You’re mind had gone elsewhere. To more pressing depressing matters. Cole. Your new arch nemesis. Your rivalry. Your enemy. All the names in the book that would describe his fate in your eyes. He needed to go down and hard. But how?

Tonight, you’ll be missing Corroded Coffin’s second appearance because you were meeting up with him to discuss whatever his evil plans were for you.

All you could do is see off the boys in the afternoon as they gathered onto the giant tour bus toward destination.

“You really don’t have to do this? I can just get a lawyer. He wouldn’t stand a chance.” Eddie says.

“I need to do this or he’ll just keep coming after me. You’ll be okay?”

“I’ll do my best,” He nods. “I’ll see you late tonight?”

“What about your new friends?” You whispered, gesturing to the two giant bodyguards a few feet behind him.

“I have my ways.” He smirks, mischievously.

“Whatever you plan on doing…don’t.” You teased, pulling his hat over his face.

He lifts the brim over his eyes with a finger. “This is why I don’t wear these darn things. I’ll be noting this to Maeve,” He jokes, then spreads out his arms for a hug. You go in for a handshake instead, reminding him that you were both in public.He reluctantly shakes it.

With a final goodbye from the boys, everyone boarded the bus and were off on the road.

Now that they were off doing their work, you’ll be doing yours. It was time to dive into the mind of the sleaziest journalist. If this was a dog eat dog world then you’ll gladly join the game. You were going to get some dirt on Cole and make him pay.

——————

You sat across the devil in a tea shop. He smiles a dangerous smile, believing he’s won.

“First, I wanna start off by saying that I apologize to you, Y/n. I didn’t mean to call you a whore.”

“Fuck you. I don’t care for your apologies.”

“You’re very well entitled to not forgive me. I just needed to get that off my chest. How’s your lip, by the way? It doesn’t look bad from what I see.”

“Let’s cut the bullshit, Cole. I’m not here for small talk. What the fuck do you want from me? Why are you trying to sabotage my exposé?”

“Because you’ve talked down on my Magazine enough. You and your company! Then you write this article and now you’re all I see. Everywhere. ‘30 Days With A Rockstar’. I’ve had enough! But soon… the world will know the truth. ‘Francis The Freak dating his journalist?’. Your exposé will be seen as bias. And my story on you will crush yours.”

“So you started a fight and threatened to press charges…because you want to make a better story?”

“I was never going to press any actual charges. I just knew it was the only way you’d agree to meet me again. Because you care about him. Because you’re a couple.”

“We’re not!”

“I have eyes all around, Y/n. I really didn’t take that photo of you and Francis at the bar. But I did write the article. I’ll admit it. As you already know, I’m the exec and lead editor of Hey Hello and I don’t take to kindly of the slander my company’s faced at the hands of your company. So, I’ll give you three options. Either work with me and give me the rights to your story or you could tell me the full story about you and Francis or I can really press charges and everyone loses.”

“How about a fourth option? You leave me and Francis alone…and I won’t put out an article about you getting sexual favors from your female employees so they can secure their jobs. Abuse of power story? You’ll never work in this business again.”

His eyes widened. “I’ve never done such a thing.”

“Tell that to the several employees that have come forward to personally speak with me. I have eyes and ears, too, ya know.”

“You bitch!” He snarled.

“Awww, I thought we were friends.” You teased, pouting.

“You just wait. I will find the truth. And when I do, you’ll be just another slut that fell for a trashy rockstar.”

You slap him, causing him to yelp. “Go ahead and press charges on me, too. Fuck you and your shitty magazine.”

You shot up from your seat, walking out. Not once looking back. Little did he know, you’d already released the article on him. That morning, you’d found your motivation to write after all.

———

It was 3 am and the Band had yet returned. Even if you wanted to see Eddie, you knew his guards would be right outside his door, keeping you seeing him at these hours.

Right now you’re lying in bed, moping as you began to question your relationship. Maybe you’d both jumped into it too soon. Everything is moving so fast and now you had a huge target on your back which, in turn, would effect Eddie.

Little taps hit against your window, you rise your head up in confusion. You sauntered over to the window, lifting it up and glancing down. Eddie waves at you from below.

“Eddie!”

“Shhhh!” He holds out his hands, signifying you to lower your voice.

“How’d you get out here? I thought you’d be guarded up in your hotel room.”

“I snuck out. Climbed out my window and took the stairs on the side of the building. Told you I’d come see you so here I am. Now you climb out.”

“No! It’s dangerous,” You stared in horror at the rickety metal stairs. “These look all rusty and unstable.”

“But I’ve got somewhere to show you.” He says, throwing up his arms in frustration.

“Fine, but I’m going out and down on the elevator like a normal person.”

“All that work when you could just come down this way?”

“It’s not work. It’s safe.” You throw on a coat over your nightgown and then some boots, before heading out the door. The bodyguards outside Eddie’s door spot you.

“Just leaving for some fresh air.” You explained, nervously. They turned their attention away from you, speaking amongst themselves.

You rushed down to the lobby and made it out to see Eddie, turning to smile as he held out his hand. You take it and he immediately leads the way.

“You’re a bad influence.” You laugh.

“So, I’ve been told.”

It was not a far distance from the hotel where you headed off to. You found yourself at an intimate park setting that had a showing of ‘Rocky Picture Horror Show’ playing on a big projector screen. Couples sitting on their respective blankets as they watched the film.

“I love this movie.” You whispered.

“Yeah? So do I.”

He lays out the blanket for you both to sit, finding a nice spot in a corner by the bushes.

“How’d you know they’d be playing a showing so late this night?”

“Dirk told me.”

“You mean the lead guitarist from Hell’s Fury. You’re on first name bases now? Are you going to braid each other’s hairs, too?”

“Please stop talking,” He says, trying not to laugh. “He’s actually not a bad guy. Hell of a stoner, though.”

“Glad your meeting more people in your circle.”

He nods. “I guess.”

“Thank you for bringing me out here. I needed this. Especially, after my meet up with that loser.”

“How was it?”

“This guy’s been on my tail the entire time since I’ve started this article. He’s been jealous of my success. The misogynistic pig. He said either I tell him about us or join him.”

“Join him? Like Darth Vader?”

“You nerd,” You giggled. “Yeah, just like Darth Vader.”

“So what happened after that?”

“I blackmailed him. Told him I’d out his scandal about his power imbalance and perverted behavior towards his female colleagues. I’m already in the works of outing him, though. No woman should ever work with that creep.”

“Ooo, you can get dirty.”

You shrug, playing off cool. “I can be a real bitch.”

“Oh, I know.”

“Fuck you!” You shove him, saying it loud enough for a couple people to shush you.

“Sorry.” You and Eddie whisper in unison.

——

It’s now 5 am. You’re on your way back to the hotel, laughing and quoting lines from the movie. Eddie insisted you both take the metal stairs this time which you reluctantly take. Him following close behind in case you faint from looking down. When you made it to your window, you climbed in first.

“We’re a little like Romeo and Juliet. Don’t ya think?It’s kinda romantic.”

He kisses you softly after you say this, making your steady heartbeat pound furiously in your chest. He breaks the kiss, licking his lips.

“Does Romeo get to climb into Juliet’s window and rock her world?”

“I thought you wouldn’t have energy for that?”

“I’ve got enough.” He attempts to climb in but you put your hand over his face, stopping him.

“No. You need sleep, big boy. Your day begins at 7.”

“You’re really missing out on some blessings, little vixen. I’m in the mood to eat pussy.”

You shuddered. So. Very. Tempting. That mouth as infuriating as it can be when he spoke, it was just as talented at many other things including knowing it’s way around the female anatomy. “I’ll pass.” You squeaked.

“Sure bout that? I’m looking to make those legs shake. Fuck you with my fingers and tongue,” He does have a nice, thick…long tongue. “Drink you til your stupid and can barely speak.”

You clamp your thighs together. “Ughh, no!”

Mustering up the shred of restraint you had left, you shut the window and locked it, leaving him standing there dazed.

His face drops in a dull look as he sticks up his two middle fingers at you. You do the same, causing you both to burst with laughter. With a final dramatic bow, he says his goodbye and makes his exit down the stairs.

You flung yourself onto the mattress. You couldn’t believed you turned him down. He’s literally your fucking boyfriend! Take advantage! Where was the shoulder demon bitch when ya needed her?!

God, that pretty mouth. I’m such a stupid bitch.

Then, your mind recalled Chrissy’s ‘gift’ to you. With a sigh, you retrieve the item from the drawer. It wasn’t him. But it would be enough.

———

It wasn’t enough! The remaining few days of the show caused your private nights with Eddie to grow shorter and shorter. The moments when you didn’t have to sneak around were spent being as far apart from one another as possible to deter any suspicions from his manager. Eddie had gotten extremely fatigue from the long days of rehearsal and having to perform on stage hours after. You worried that the boys would soon burn out.

When he’d snuck into your bedroom after the last night of Manta•esque, he’d all but crashed face first into your mattress. He only had enough energy for you both to the night for some writing ideas. He excitedly yet tiredly spoke of receiving praise letters from some of his favorite artists who’ve seen the event televised.

“It’s insane,” He yawns. “People actually like our music. They want to hear more from us. We’re already in talks of getting signed to an official label and having a new album.”

“That’s incredible!” You say, placing his head in your lap and playing in his hair.

“Right.” He yawns, once again.

“Shouldn’t you be heading to bed?”

“Wanna stay here.” He grumbles against your thigh.

“It’s not a good idea.”

“So what? I miss you. And who knows if I’ll ever get this much time with you again?“

“Why do you mean?”

He’s quiet.

“Eds?” You called for his attention.

“I’ll be touring again,” He admits. “It’ll be around the time the exposé’s done.”

“Okay? We’ll still get to see each other.”

“No,” He sits up. “At least not for a while. My manager’s got us a tour around Asia then back to Europe for France. I’ll only be staying in Hawkins for about a week and a half then I’m back on the road again.”

Tears began to well up in your eyes. “I knew we shouldn’t have done this.”

You stand to your feet, heading for the door when he grasps your wrist. “Where are you going?”

“I just need to go somewhere to think.”

He caresses your face. “Y/n, I want to be with you.”

“We’ll hardly ever see each other.”

“Then, I won’t do the tour.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!”

“Or you can come with me! I don’t fucking know! I just don’t want this to end. I can’t go back to life without you.”

“Neither can I. I wouldn’t feel like myself without you.”

“So does this mean you’ll leave with me? We won’t have to hide our relationship.”

“I can’t just drop everything and travel the world with you, Eddie. I have my dreams, too. I can’t go with you.”

“Don’t say that.” He begs, narrowing the gap between your lips.

“I can’t…” You say, weaker this time, eyes fluttering closed as he closes the gap between your lips. He kisses away your tears.

You’re lost in his kiss, wrapping your arms around him when a throat clears forcing you both to jolt apart. There stood Mr. Neds with the extra key card you’d given Eddie.

You were so fucked.

————-

“I come to your bedroom and your missing. Window’s open. I knew you snuck out at that point. I’ve always had this gut feeling that there was something going on between you and this fully confirms it,” Mr. Neds turns his attention to you. “I warned you the first day that this would happen. I told you that this would be serious shit and yet, unsurprisingly, you sleep with him.”

“Back off. It’s not her fault.” Eddie defends.

“Both of you are to blame! All this time these unfortunate events that keep happening and it was all because you two are secretly dating. A poorly kept secret at that. You both are all over each other. I’ve been in denial but this proves my concerns.”

“Please don’t tell my boss. He’ll pull the article and this will all be over.”

“I won’t tell him anything. I want this exposé out as badly as you. People are loving it so far. But no more secrets. At least not between us. If this is what you both want, I won’t stop you. But it could only ever be in private. This stays here. No one else will know.” Mr. Neds states.

Only he couldn’t be more wrong. This secret will soon go beyond these walls because in about the next 2 days at approximately 12:30 pm on a Tuesday, the whole world will read about the scandalous romance between a rockstar and his journalist.

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[valaruakars]

Let's Get Physical (Part 7)

Viktor/F!Reader || 6.3k || Modern!AU + Gym!AU || SFW

Bitches hate you for your overzealous approach to supporting your friends and deeply anxious behavior. Viktor is not bitches.

A/N: Omg. We're here. We're back on our bullshit. Thank you to everyone who beta'd and/or provided me free therapy about this for that past um... seven months. Oops. Thank you to everyone who reached out over the (unintentional) hiatus with encouraging comments and asks. I hope you'll understand why I took so long to handle this with care and unpack some of my own issues. Very cathartic. Would recommend.

Part 1 → Part 2  → Part 3 → Part 4  → Part 5 → Part 5.2 (nsfw) → Part 6  → Part 7 (Ao3 Link)

Before you know it, two weeks and a day have passed. They make no palpable difference. 

Except maybe in your quadriceps. 

The same weights you’ve been using feel almost effortless, too easy. You don’t fatigue as quickly into heavy breathing and the urge to cheat yourself a rep or two—not lunging with the dumbbell gripped at one of its wide ends, not squatting while it’s clutched close to your chest. It’s suddenly not enough. 

Nobody’s around to see it, but progress is progress. Turns out, you’ve finally graduated to heavier weights on this lonely leg day you’ve committed to. 

That’s a bit of a misnomer, though. The day is mostly past you now. It’s evening—crisp and wispy, sky like striated fire outside the garage—and as the sun sets, you’re reminded of the late start you’re up against. All because you forgot something. 

A good attitude is optional. A scrunchie you can live without. But your shoes? Leave them forgettably kicked off in two different directions on your bedroom floor and you’re fucked. It’s a small miracle you’re here, dragging around weight plates, setting up a barbell. There was a very real danger of tripping and falling into bed—totally by accident, never to get up again—when you drove home and stomped upstairs to grab them. 

But whether or not he knows it, likely the latter, Viktor keeps you accountable when no one else can. It’s because the only running you truly love is the risk of seeing him, which still requires proper footwear. And for you to leave the house. 

Though by the time you whipped into the driveway and thrust the gear shift into park, it’s empty. He’d left already; you didn’t get to see him off on his reluctant shuffle through the garage. But lucky you—he tends to come straight home after physical therapy. Call it friendly concern that you’re paying attention. 

It’s probably an odd way to think about a friend. You need to work on that. 

Your phone vibrates dully on the padded bench beside you. Nearly knocking your water over in the process, you grab it to find a text from Jayce—the usual culprit. You slide it open, accidentally brushing the top of the screen with shaky fingers. It catapults you to the beginning of your most recent messages before you can read the new one. 

Mon, Oct 10

[Jayce Talis, 5:56am]: Did you leave the back door unlocked last night? [Jayce Talis, 5:57am]: And the pool lights on? [Jayce Talis, 5:57am]: Was Viktor in the pool?

[7:32am]: Holy shit. Good morning. [7:33am]: No, no, and why do you think I know these things??

[Jayce Talis, 7:45am]: Sorry, it’s all good. He’s alive. 

[7:46am]: ???????

[Jayce Talis, 7:49am]: You guys didn’t hang out after I left? 

[7:57am]: Idk if you would consider it that. [8:02am]: But has anyone invited him to cards on Saturday??

[Jayce Talis, 8:17am]: He already said no. [Jayce Talis, 8:18am]: Although… [Jayce Talis, 8:19am]: You could try telling him it’s strip poker. Haha :) 

[8:20am]: Blocked. Reported. Banned. NOT DOING THAT.

[Jayce Talis, 8:21am]: No wait! I was kidding. He’s not a creep :(

Tue, Oct 11

[Jayce Talis, 3:38pm]: Wait did you actually block me? 

[3:50pm]: Yes.

Sun, Oct 16

[Tayce Jalis, 8:00am]: Can I have my t-shirt back today?

[8:31am]: Oh the really old anime one? I left it with some stuff to be washed, ask Viktor. [8:32am]: Maybe the dryer did you a favor and ate it. 

[Tayce Jalis, 8:34am]: Hey! Naruto is timeless.

Today

Tayce Jalis unsent a message

Not fast enough to scroll back down, caught revisiting those unremarkable little messages, and now you’ll never know what Jayce’s butt managed to text you this time. Oh well. Keep your secrets. 

You toss your phone down behind you with a leathery slap. Back to working on the whole stop pining after Viktor thing.

Right, and your legs. 

The barbell bites into your hips as you roll it into your lap and adjust it, the bench presses into your shoulder blades. It’s heavier and harder to manage, but you do, driving down into your heels to get your ass off the ground, hefting yourself into a nice, solid bridge. From there it’s as easy as dipping your hips, which isn’t quite easy at all. No, it’s brutal. 

It burns from your core down to your thighs; has you clenching your jaw, gritting your teeth with the strain. Even your biceps are active, lifting some of the steel-hard pressure off your hip bones. 

You’re so zoned in—no thoughts, head empty except for the number six over and over until it’s seven—that you only hear the hiss of your breath in and out, the hammering rush of blood behind your ears. You don’t hear Viktor come home. 

Not until he’s standing above you.  

He had the heinous metal on metal sound in his old beige car fixed—that grinding, grating death knell in its engine. One of several potentially life threatening reasons the check engine light was always on—maybe still is. And though you much prefer him living, it’s harder to hear him coming over the steady music without paying attention. 

Bad timing for Miss Carly Rae Jepsen on your Upbeat Workout Jams playlist, considering you do really, really, really like him. Him and how he stands at the end of the bench, staring down; how he fixes you with that sliver thin smile, a manila folder tucked under the arm of his long cardigan. 

You seize with embarrassment, frozen on the upswing of your hips. “Hi,” whispers out on the end of an exhale, caught ragged in your throat. 

You can’t do pelvic thrusts in front of him. 

You just can’t. 

It’s bad enough that you’re sweaty in every skin to skin crevice and certainly flushed, t-shirt sticky and legs trembling as they hold your awkward position, but then there’s him. 

He wears that same look much better. On him, it’s healthy color across the cut lines of his cheeks; it’s still-damp curls at the nape of his neck and the jump of his lean throat when he swallows, dry when he must’ve forgotten a water bottle again. It’s suggestive. It’s hot. 

And it’s the endorphins that make you feel that way, surely, more than any affinity for men in gray sweatpants that are far more revealing than they must realize. 

You clear your throat, finding your own parched voice. “Watch your feet,” you warn, on the side of caution, dropping butt and barbell to the ground with a metallic thud. You let your head drop back against the bench pad, staring up at him with the dazed satisfaction of calling it quits. Only for the moment, of course, as you blindly feel around for your phone to turn the music down. 

And good fucking god is what you see unholy. Viktor shifts his weight before you can look away, and the ache in your core redoubles—different, deeper than any lactic acid buildup. Did his pants shrink in the wash or is it really that m—?

Nope! Absolutely not! 

You can tread no further with that thought because, really, there’s no such thing as having a platonic appreciation for your friend’s dick. Not when the friend is Viktor. 

“You’re not finished yet?” he asks. Innocent. Oblivious to your mental struggle out of the gutter. 

Typically you would be by now. Equipment racked, the citrus scent of disinfectant on your hands, picking at innocuous conversation while you walk inside together. How was your day? Did you hear they’re demolishing the old physics building? There’s a guest lecture next month that might interest you. 

“About another thirty minutes,” you breathe, “and then I’ll be done. I’m running behind.”

“Ah, interesting. That looks to me more like sitting,” he says, which is terrible enough to earn an eye roll, and snarky enough that your lips wobble and break into an insurmountable smile.

“It’s called resting, thanks. This would go faster if you stopped distracting me,” you huff, muscles loose, lips looser. 

The little spark of mirth in his eyes, so bright and awake, makes your stomach clench vice tight. “Mm. There’s no rush,” he shrugs, “but… Rio might enjoy a visit.” 

Your smile is skeptical as he pulls the file folder from beneath his arm. “Oh really?” It widens as he starts to fan you from above—chilly in the garage, but you’re still sweating buckets. It’s futile, although he’s sweet to try and help.  

He nods, gravely serious, “She told me herself.” 

You crane your neck unconsciously to let it cool the sweat that lingers there, sighing as little wisps of loose hair billow feather light and tickle your feverish skin. 

He isn’t holding it right, though. His grip is too loose on the edge.

At once, a flurry of white comes raining down on you. It’s instinct that your eyes clamp shut against the onslaught. 

“No, no, no,” he hisses as if begging could stop gravity. 

It doesn’t, of course. 

His papers flutter and scrape across the floor. An unlucky one sticks to the sweat on your scrunched up cheek. He’s quick to dip forward and snatch it back first, the easiest to reach.

You blink off the surprise and snicker, “Oh, how the tables have turned. Who’s the clumsy one now?” Rolling the barbell away over your outstretched legs, there’s nothing in its path to be crumpled beneath the weight.  

But Viktor doesn’t answer with a crooked smile or a quiet laugh, no dry wit to be found. His dark, heavy brows furrow and he insists, “No, just—just let me,” while he crouches to the ground, distributing his weight between his cane and the end of the bench. 

“It’s okay,” you insist, reaching to gather what’s scattered between you, “I’ve got it. No big deal.”

“To you,” he mutters, snatching two away before you can turn them over. Makes him lose balance. He narrowly catches himself before he can veer face first into your spandex lap,, blunt, bony fingers digging into your thigh at the hem of those skin tight biker shorts. It crushes the papers all the same. 

“Top secret nuclear codes?” you tease, drowning his muttered apologies. It sounds stupid and obvious that you’re trying to distract from the fumbling tension when his hand stays put for moments too long. Yours, too, on his shoulder to brace him. 

Just until he’s able to sit himself solidly on the ground beside you. 

He purses his lips, “My work is with reactor cores, not weapons.”

It’s only been a week since you got an impromptu lecture about nuclear fusion in the kitchen. It’s not like you’d forget so quickly. “I know—”

Impatient, Viktor reaches over your lap, too close for comfort. Whatever you were about to say is struck from your train of thought. 

His cardigan drags soft and pilled with wear across your beat up knees. Beneath it, his sweat smells sharp and strangely appealing. It’s fascinating, that draw to something so base and human. It’s unsettling, the way your heart responds like it beats between your legs.

You follow his hand, unabashedly curious, and watch him pick up another overturned paper. Below it, the next sheet is stuck face up to the floor with what you cringe to assume is a drop of your sweat, bleeding the ink of a diagram. Multiple diagrams, actually. 

Of stretches.  

The familiarity sparks excitement. 

By the time he peels up the corner of the page with his fingernail, you’re sure of what you’re looking at. It’s common ground, of a sort; the excuse to end all excuses. 

“These are from the physical therapist?” 

He sighs, sitting back in an awkward fold of spindly legs. Looks wearier, now, with his shoulders collapsed like the exhaustion of going has finally caught up. “Yes,” he admits, because you’re smart and he’s smart, and any other answer would be an obvious lie. 

You’re doing it again—digging your fingers into a soft spot that feels as ripe as it does intrusive. We do not talk about it much, he once said, but it’s hard to stop once you’ve started. You just have to know: “Do you do them?” 

His eyes cut down to the papers in his hands. “When time permits.”

“How often does it permit?” 

“Occasionally,” says Viktor, which might mean somewhere between rarely and never. 

Early mornings, late nights; classes to teach, lab hours to log, projects, papers, and a dissertation that looks done to you, but he laughs bitterly when you suggest it. Still has to find time to eat and shower and sleep, but his eyes are always restless purple and there are wrappers from meal replacement bars scattered around the house, too high calorie for Jayce to be the culprit. 

You wonder what will happen when it all catches up with him. Worse, you worry. 

Beseechingly, you reach out. Your grip is gentle as you take hold of the printouts at their edge. “Can I see?” you ask, not grabbing or pulling or taking, just there and ready. 

His lips form a tight, considering line. “If that is the last of your questions,” he slowly replies. Prickly, but relenting, he lets go before you can ever agree. 

So you don’t.  

His eyes are on you as you flip through the stack—you can feel it as a strange, shy tension like bated breath, watching and waiting. 

Page by page, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before. Some you’ve even done yourself, but with simple modifications. Hell, bridges are just hip thrusts performed flat on the floor, without the weight. Nothing he’d need help with, which is ideal when you’re not qualified to do anything but make space for him; to emphasize that he’s welcome and wanted, maybe offer up a sweaty-palmed high five if you’re feeling spunky. 

You peel your legs off the floor and resituate, tucking them as your turn to face him, direct in every sense. “You could come do these with us on Sunday mornings after we run, before you get started on work. It would make Jayce happy, and Vi has a really funny way of being encouraging—”

He pulls a face—a nose scrunched up, barely concealed, abso-fucking-loutely not sort of scowl. 

“Or…” you’re quick to try, “Just with me, when I’m here. It’ll take, what—fifteen? Twenty minutes?” 

“It’s a poor use of time,” he says. It’s as avoidant as it is clumsy, with a dismissive edge still dull enough to bruise. 

And that’s because: “You stop and talk to me for longer than that sometimes,” you remind him flatly.  

He sighs sharply, toying absently with the cane laid across his lap. “That is different.” He says it like it’s obvious; like it’s frustrating that you don’t know how obvious it is. 

“Well, what if we could do both at the same time?” you propose. After all, he’s got such a hard-on for efficiency, if that’s what’s stopping him. “I know you’re a good multitasker…”  

His jaw works, trapping his thoughts behind imperfect teeth. 

“And we probably keep this floor cleaner than the carpet…” you prod, because the silence of a man who can and has talked your ear off is disquieting; because you don’t always know when to stop; because this feels like a negotiation. 

“My bedroom suits my purposes just fine,” he says, eventually. 

But you never said which carpet. The thought of him sequestered in there, even for this, is fucking depressing. Arguably disgusting when you’ve walked across that rug and felt the grit of dirt, crumbs, and debris that the pattern hides through your socks. And worse: It’s a choice, so why is he making it? 

Abruptly, the rubber tipped end of his cane meets like against the rubber tiled floor. He pulls himself up on it with difficulty you can’t ignore, but shakes his head when you move to help. The only thing you do is hand him up the battered stack of papers, tucked back into the folder from which they came, when he stands up fully. You won’t hold them hostage, even if part of you wants to. It wouldn’t keep him from leaving, his back to you such a familiar sight. 

You just want to understand, though, if nothing else. To crack him like a cipher.  

Softer, you try: “I wouldn’t judge you.” It’s the last, desperate little thing you can think of. They’re like magic words to you. 

But the problem is: They don’t work on everyone. 

To his credit, his tone isn’t harsh. It’s indifferent, like stating a sterile fact. “This has nothing to do with you,” he says. “I haven’t skipped an appointment recently, and that should be enough.”

Indigence might suit you in those moments you grow a seedling backbone, but it doesn’t suit this. You can’t help it though. His frustration has bled into you, caught like kindling. “Is it?” 

“You and I do not share the same sense of priorities,” he replies, but it’s not an answer. Not really. 

The urge to turn him upside down and shake him until something definitive comes out is overwhelming—so straightforward until he just… isn’t. “If you’re not going to say yes or no, can’t you just lie and say you’ll think about it?” 

He looks you over inscrutably, sitting there in his shadow. “Why would you assume it’s a lie?”

“Oh, I don’t know…” you huff. But you do. Experience and a certain friend who actually bothers to text you back have given you the answer. “Jayce says you’re stubborn and I’m starting to think he’s right.” 

Viktor nods conclusively, but doesn’t care to share what’s going through his head. As evasive as ever when he cares to be, just murmurs,“You should finish this.”

And then, for a reason that is simply beyond you, says: “I will see you later.”

But for once, you’re not sure if you want to. 

—

You rap your knuckles against his open door. 

Seriously—who were you kidding, thinking for even a second that you wouldn’t be here, doing this?

Yes, it’s well after eight now and you’re pitifully hungry, but it wouldn’t feel right to leave without saying anything. In writing a note or sending a text, you’d simply be spelling out, ‘I’m a coward!’ in far more words. It’s best, you decide, to be polite and mature and just say goodnight despite the awkward taste in your mouth that is very reminiscent of your own foot. 

And you get to say it to his back, which should be easy. 

But then there’s Rio on his desk like a pissed off paperweight, swimming the foggy side of her holding tank—sorry, prison—without any hope of escape. They’re the angriest, most pathetic wiggles you’ve ever seen. Habitual, given how tongue-smudged and abraded the plastic has become. 

“You see?” he says, gesturing to the sound of her scrabbling in his bright rubber kitchen gloves. “It’s just as I said.” 

“I think it’s more about you ignoring her.” Rio pauses, slipping down the side. Her little face conveys it perfectly: “Father is cruel? Father is… unyielding? Father hates Rio?” 

“No, no… Although, eh, yes, I suppose she does sound like that…” he muses, nodding. “I think she must wonder those things about you, actually.”

Your shoulder hits the door frame, shrugging against it where you lean. “I probably don’t matter much to her.”

There’s a heavy pause, enough for him to breathe in and hold it. Breathe out, softly: “You do.”

And suddenly, you can’t find it in you to leave. Did you ever truly have the will? 

The truth is there on your feet—those perpetually mismatched socks. You’d hoped for this, secretly, else you wouldn’t have left your shoes off at the door.  

It’s warm when you walk in. A space heater that’s been running too long glows electric orange on the floor near his desk. Makes the smell of churned earth and vinegar cleaner that much stronger. And while the clutter is clearly endemic, it seems the fuzzy, stagnant mugs are not. They’re all gone from his desk and the bedside table, replaced by sticky notes, pill bottles, and an avalanche of papers.

You come up and give Rio’s tiny, clawed foot a high-five through the plastic. “Has she been doing this all night?” you ask, looking over. 

Knee on the desk chair for leverage, he’s elbows deep in her tank, rooting those waxen, fake plants back into the substrate with unnatural posture. It’s that stiffness you’ve always noticed—ramrod straight from the mid-spine up. It’s easier to see in profile, in a thin shirt that clings to his back, that there’s nothing visibly forcing it. 

“On and off. She tires quickly now,” he says, arranging a broad-leafed plant near her favorite rocky shelter—scrubbed clean, still damp. “When she was younger, it would go on much longer while I did this.”

“How old is she exactly?” 

His sigh is almost lost beneath the hum of the space heater. He answers, “Fifteen,” in the soft, subdued way of someone who hates to be reminded. 

There’s many things you’re too afraid to ask him. Such hits as: Why did you dig yourself a hole this deep, does Jayce text everyone about you, and would I even stand a chance if things were different? But right now, most of all, it’s how long do geckos live? 

You don’t think you’re going to like the answer. 

Viktor clears his throat. “She’s very, eh… spritely for her age,” he adds, fondly this time. 

You hum a soft sound in agreement, too shaky through the legs to squat down to eye level with her. When you bend your knees to try, you realize you’ll probably never get up again. 

He glances over as you straighten up. “You can sit,” he offers without really saying where. It’s obvious, though. The only option—his rumpled bed, never made, with all its mismatched pillows. One has definitely been stolen from the couch, three are yellowed and missing pillowcases which is… ew. 

But you’re not going to refuse. You’d like to hold Rio, after all. 

You swallow hesitation and tuck yourself onto the end of his mattress, balancing on the firm edge. At least the intrusive thoughts are fleeting. Only briefly do you wonder what he thinks about at night. What he does. What he wants for.

Not you. That’s for sure.

Your elbows lock out where you grip the ridged edge of the bed. The weight of things gone unsaid, of things left unresolved bears down; it prickles warm at the back of your neck and you can’t stand the waiting silence. 

“So…” you drawl, letting your voice fill the void.

“Hm?”

“Are you going to hand her to me now, or…?”

“Ah, no, I’m finished,” he says over his shoulder. “She needs to go back in the tank.”

“Then why am I sitting here?” 

“Because I have something to ask you.”

Straightforward. Right. You forgot just how terrifying that can be. 

“That sounds just as bad as saying we need to talk,” you mutter, heart twisting into a suffocating, arterial knot. 

“We do, though,” he says, too literal, too preoccupied with placing Rio back in her clean terrarium to notice your soul leave your body—preemptively abandoning ship. 

But he’s merciful, at least. He doesn’t keep you in suspense. 

“I just want to understand at what point you developed such a vested interest in, eh… fixing me, I suppose,” he asks, like wondering what the weather will be tomorrow or what the dining hall might serve for lunch. Conversationally. “Did Jayce put you up to this?”

Your eyes narrow in thought. “No…?” you reply. It comes out too shifty as you toy with the serged edge of his blanket. Jayce put you up to something alright, though that hardly matters anymore. But, in a way, does this count? Would Viktor think that this counts?

“A sure answer, please.”

Fuck. 

“It’s just that I would lump that in as part of being friends with you—except I’d call it, y’know, caring?” You draw your leg up onto the bed, closer, tucking your foot beneath your thigh. “That’s all I’m trying to do.”

Viktor flips the grate down with a finality that lights your nerves like a beacon to flee. “So he asked you to do what, exactly?” 

“Nothing,” you squirm. 

He pivots, solidly on two feet. Doesn’t sit down in the desk chair quite yet. “It wouldn’t be the first time for this behavior, and, with you, I’m sure it was not the last. Do you know that he once provided Caitlyn with a written list of topics not to bring up to me?” 

You shrug, “He’s a good friend...” 

Now you’re staring down the barrel of being just the opposite—of throwing Jayce under the bus. 

“What did he ask?” Viktor presses.

And you break. Made brittle by your desire to put him first, of course you do.  

“All he wanted was for me to give you a chance, which was pretty reasonable after you called me annoying—” that word comes out with a bite to it you didn’t intend; sensitive, sore, “—but I never told him about that. He’s just… worried about you in his own way, I guess.” 

Viktor quietly raises an eyebrow, and that’s all it takes to snap you into fours next. It practically falls out of your mouth: “He keeps texting me to make sure you’re still alive. Sometimes I think he’s joking, but then one time he told me he had a nightmare that you drowned in the pool, so part of me actually thinks he’s being serious.” 

“He is.” 

“Wait, really—?”

“Is that why you come so often now?”

Wednesday. Friday. Sunday. Monday too, sometimes, if the day before hasn’t left you sufficiently sore enough. The pain means progress. It must.

“Well, no,” you blink, “that’s mainly because I have a lot to work on.”

“Do you?”

You gesture to yourself. All of you. The way your stomach folds and rolls and fucking exists unappealingly beneath your sweatshirt when you slouch—it could be better. The way your thighs pancake out, smushed against the bed—not getting better, but discipline and toning might shape them into something near desirable. “Yeah, obviously.”

He treads lightly. “I… would not say it’s obvious.” But his eyes are cast down as he carefully removes his rubber gloves and discards them in a bucket of cleaning supplies. He’s not rude enough to agree, but you worry, in all those moments you can feel him looking at you, that he’s thinking it. After all, he’s willowy, sharp and elegant in a way you’ll never be. Soft and fleshy. Never quite right. 

“And that’s because you’re, what, zero percent body fat?” you sigh, gesturing to him incredulously. “I’m not implying that’s healthy or ideal—honestly, I’d share some if I could—but…” Your hands curl to your chest, clasped tightly in one another when there is no one else to hold them through the indignity of admitting, “I’m the one that needs fixing. Not you.” 

He was right, though, when he said it earlier. This isn’t about you. “Where did you come up with that, anyways?” you ask. 

The lines on his face, those deep, concerned creases between his brows, spell out what the fuck. You don’t understand what’s so hard about that question—what he can’t figure out, why the confusion lingers in his eyes. “This… This is the second time you’ve offered to help me.”

“I was trying to be supportive. Encouraging, even—that’s also a good word for it.” 

“It all feels the same,” he tells you, taking his turn to sigh. “Which is to say patronizing, sometimes.”

And that was not what you intended. “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to be a saint or anything. That’s not entirely it.” You fight the turtle-like urge to retract into your sweatshirt, which would arguably be more stupidly embarrassing than admitting: “I was just looking for… common ground, I guess. Ways to hang out without dragging you out with us.” 

“Are we not doing that right now?”

“Sure, but I feel bad about it.” There’s the silvery peek of his computer, buried on the desk. “I’m keeping you from more important things.” 

“You’re not,” he says—no, placates, but the disbelieving press of your lips makes him reconsider. “Well, eh, perhaps, but I can manage. I’ve dealt with Heimerdinger’s high expectations and, mm, sadistic deadlines for years. The weekends work well to make up for lost time, and there is all night after this too.”

“You should sleep.”

“I can’t. Not well.”

You give a creaky little bounce—not much of one, no spring to it—to demonstrate: “Maybe because your mattress feels about as hard as sleeping on the ground.” 

“One problem of many, yes.”

You count yourself among them, in one way or another. You’ve been leaking these awful insecurities all night. 

Is it any wonder that another slips? 

“It’s just—the last thing I want is to bother you. Everyone, really, but especially you.” 

“Is that because of me?” he asks quietly. “Because of what I said?”

Oh, you’ve carried this around since day one. Let it color his tone and his words and his actions. Let it haunt you trying to reach for others, the freshest nick in a line of scars that was never stitched properly. That’s what you get for letting all those little anxieties run wild with knives in their hands. That’s what you get for forgiving him before he ever asked for it, as if that would make things easier. For you. For him. For everyone. 

It hasn’t.

Viktor crosses the three steps between you on bare, nobby feet. His weight dips the bed beside you ever slightly, like he’s hardly there. But he is, by the way his leg bumps your knee, and you scoot over to give him space.  

He doesn’t seem to know what to do with his hands, grasping at some distant thread. They’re as awkward as he is in saying, “I can’t recall what I meant at the time, but it… it wasn’t that. It would’ve been fine if you thought less of me for it, but not of yourself.” 

You shake your head. “It’s—don’t worry, it’s not all you,” you say, softening his guilt, perhaps at your own expense. “I have a lot of anxiety, and that’s a long running thing, okay? It’s mostly… me.” 

“That’s… good to know. About you, I mean. Not that it’s—it’s good. Just, eh, helpful to know.” 

“I guess that’s generally the benefit of being upfront about things,” you shrug as if it comes easy. 

“I would prefer that, I think.”

It doesn’t, but the light, fizzy feeling of relief makes you want to try, if only to have more of it. Maybe more of his shy little smiles too. This time with more intention, and less leaky word vomit. 

“Okay…” You shift to face him fully, mirroring his posture in leaning back on your hand for support. “Then in no uncertain terms, I want you to know that I’m not trying to fix you.” Been there, done that, got the shitty dunce hat. People don’t change unless they want to. You know that. “I just wish you were kinder to yourself, but that’s on you. So if you ever decide you want better, whatever that means, I’ll be there. Only if you want me to and only on your own terms—no physical activity required.”

“I might want to consider it, you know…” His voice lowers, softer and softer with hesitation, to the point that you find yourself leaning in. Noticing, as he seems to have noticed, that your hands are a hair’s breadth apart. “As a future prospect, if anything. But you have to understand, I don’t enjoy being watched.”

“I get that.” 

“Mm, no, I imagine people stare at you for very different reasons,” he mutters. “Not pity. Envy, perhaps.”

“I promise, most people don’t want these thunder thighs,” you huff, resisting the urge to slap them like a used car salesman. These babies can fit so much soul-crushing insecurity, which is a terrible pitch, really. The occasional bouts of self-loathing are not your strongest selling point.

He lets out the strangest bark of a laugh, so dry it’s almost ugly, as if he can read your mind. 

But you didn’t mean to derail. “Sorry, continue.” 

“Right…” Viktor draws in a long breath, quiet for a moment before he figures out how to word it. “It’s as simple as that I would rather go unseen. It’s very, ah, personal. And painful, sometimes.”

You think of the age old adage: If it hurts, don’t do it. “Um, not a doctor, but I don’t think it’s supposed to be?” 

“So they say,” he nods pensively, eyes ticking over some distant thought, maybe a memory. “It wasn’t like this before. The discomfort wasn’t… serious. That’s how I was able to ignore it for so long.”

“Ignore what?”

Not the brutal slam of the garage door across the house, for one thing. The pictures on the wall must be hanging crooked now.

Viktor sits straighter—if that’s even possible—and calls out: “Jayce?”

Footsteps—softer, distant.

His eyes snap back to yours. “It’s been a week since he’s come home,” he tells you in a quick whisper. “Mm, well, in the evening. He’s here in the morning—”

“To work out at the ass crack of dawn? I know.”

“You were invited?”

“He knows better than to think I’ll get up that early. I saw on his Instagram.”

Footsteps—louder now.

Viktor nods sagely. “Ah, yes, the stories. By my count, he has written, eh, ‘rise and grind’ forty three times since the first of the year.”

“That’s…” Your math isn’t great but, “More than once a week,” you whisper back, on the cusp of giggles as Viktor nods. And then, it hits you. “Wait—”

But the footsteps have stopped. 

And instead, there’s Jayce’s stoop-shouldered figure braced in the doorway. He sniffles loudly.

He’s still dressed in the khakis and blue button down he wears to work—rumpled, sleeve cuffs smeared darker. His eyes have that red, raw, burning swell of someone who's tried very hard not to cry, and failed spectacularly. 

Viktor finds the words you’re looking for with immediate precision. “Has something happened?” he asks, voice tight, hand tighter on your shoulder as he leans around you to look his roommate over. “Jayce?”

They spend a lot of time apart. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that they’re best friends too. 

He swipes at his nose as it runs into the raw little divot above his lip. Beyond sadness, there’s a guilty cast to his dark, hazel eyes, turned down to the floorboards, but you can’t find your voice to tell him that this isn’t what it looks like. 

“Are you… injured?” Viktor tries again.

Jayce shakes his head. No. 

“Is your mother alright?” 

“She’s fine,” he rasps. “Um… Can I just—?” he asks, gesturing weakly to the two of you.

Which you think must translate to: “You want to come sit?” 

“Yeah.”

Viktor’s of course comes without apprehension, without judgment. Only with the apparent surprise that he even needed to ask. 

But Jayce, in several long legged strides, doesn’t come sit. No, he collapses face first onto the bed behind you, all broad, shaking shoulders and quiet sniffles seeping out from behind his arms. They hide his face and nothing else. Hands curling, clenching into his shirtsleeve, there’s the thick band of a tan line striped across his middle finger. 

You turn yourself around, scooching closer, folding up cross-legged to face him. 

You’ve never seen him like this—laid so low. A sweat stain blooms dark at the small of his back, up between his shoulder blades, but sweat is sweat and Jayce is Jayce. You reach out to rub his back despite it.  “It’s alright…” you whisper. Feels like putting band-aids on a bleeding heart, but it’s all you have. 

Soft cotton weave catches the peeling skin of old blisters as you soothe your hand in circles. His shirt leaches the vetiver smell of cologne, but somewhere beneath it, there’s an elegant, cloying perfume still lingers. It’s no secret where he spends most of his time these days. 

You meet Viktor’s searching eyes and mouth: Mel. 

He nods gravely as if to say he drew the same conclusion.

Say something—that’s your next silent suggestion, canting your head toward Jayce. 

But instead, Jayce takes a deep, wet, shuddering breath and asks, muffled into the mattress, “Can… Can we go to Taco Bell?” 

“Sure…” you murmur. He could’ve asked you to drive him two states over to bury a body and you would’ve agreed just as thoughtlessly. Anything he needs. “We’ll take you.”

He doesn’t move. Just sniffles at a prompting little scritch to the nape of his neck, where his hair fades out to shadowy, peach-flesh fuzz.

So you ask, “Do you want to go change, and then I can drive us?”

“Can I just have a minute? Please?”

“Why?” demands a perplexed Viktor, still soft spoken. Desperate for an answer that isn’t made of cobbled assumptions; blunt in its pursuit. 

And worried. You can tell that he’s worried. 

As if you’d been the one to ask, the personification of wet, doleful misery lifts his head and looks up at you. His face is a ruin of dark, clumpy lashes and tear-tracked skin. His lip wobbles, the pressure of withholding little sobs building, building, building. But speaking it aloud makes it real. Speaking it aloud breaks the levee. 

“I think we just broke up,” he finally whispers. 

And cries face-down for another hour after that.

#arcane #viktor #viktor arcane #viktor x reader #reader insert #arcane x reader #my writing #literally beating tumblr with a stick i've been formatting this for fOURTY FUCKING MINUTES #GOD. #negl crying like a little bitch from the relief of finally posting this #pour one out for heraldeez who has to listen to me #just like jayce fr fr

[w1ldthoughts]

Dad and Mini’s Weekend

Anon Requested! One more little treat before I go back to school tomorrow😅

Disclaimer: this is a work of FICTION, the characters are fictionalized versions of real life situations and real people. It’s all based on my imagination.

Masterlist

You were grateful to have a job that was flexible. Before you had Remi, you were in the office probably 3-4 days a week and could work from home the rest of the time which allowed you to travel to away games and support Justin as much as possible, while still having a career of your own. Now that you had a daughter to think about, things were different. You were different. But that doesn’t mean that the work doesn’t stop. So when you had to leave town for a weekend work conference in Chicago, you thanked your lucky stars that it was the offseason.

“Do you need help packing? You know I have a little experience with it.” Justin smiles, looking down at your suitcase. He really was an expert, packing all three of your bags whenever you went on vacation. It was the most efficient folding job you’d ever seen. The man grabbed all of your essentials, easily placing them in their rightful places and zipping it up without breaking a sweat. His tidiness and attention to detail had become even more attractive since you became parents, it really came in handy.

“Are you sure the two of you are gonna be okay? I mean I can call—”

He waves you off. “We’re gonna be fine! She already has a plan for everything we’re gonna do. I just need to follow it. She did say I could come up with stuff to do on Monday though so I have some fun things planned.”

“Trust me, I’ve heard all about these plans,” you sigh, looking at your suitcase. “Remi barely said goodbye to me this morning. She was so busy telling me about how fun this weekend is going to be. Giving me FOMO.”

He grabs your bags and heads downstairs with you to put them in the car. “Please, you’re going to work for a couple hours and sightsee the rest of the time. But seriously, go enjoy yourself. You deserve a little break, she’s cute but I’m convinced she’s got a battery pack attached to her. She’s never tired.”

“I know,” you pat him on the back and give him a kiss. “And hasn’t taken a nap in weeks, so good luck with that. I’ll see you on Monday afternoon. Love you.”

“Love you too baby. See you on Monday but we’ll probably call you tonight before bed, I’m sure she’ll be missing you already.” He closes your car door and gives you one last peck before heading inside.

“Daddy, can I have some choclate milk?” Remi asks, sitting in her chair at the kitchen counter.

“What’s the magic word?” He says, waiting for her to understand what he was getting at.

“Oh…please!”

He nods and grabs her pink sippy cup, filling it up and handing it to her after she says “thank you.”

The duo sits on the couch in the living room to watch Cars, the first thing on Remi’s list. He figured she was tired after preschool because she not only skipped her nap when she got home but she also barely ate dinner. Usually she’d be up and running around while the movie played in the background but tonight she was focused, cuddled into his side with her eyes glued to the screen. Nova was sitting at her feet, fast asleep. After the movie was over, it was time for their bedtime routine. Remi took a bath, got to pick out her favorite pajamas and read three books. Before he could turn off the lights and sing the bedtime song, Remi asked him why he calls her “mini.”

He tells her to wait a second and that he’ll be right back. Justin comes back into her room with a mirror in his hands. Holding it up to her, he says, “look at us, you look just like me. You’re my mini me. My mini.” She grabs the mirror out of his hands and looks at the two of them side by side. “See? We have the same eyes, same nose and—smile? That little hole in your cheek? It’s called a dimple. I have one too. And when I was little my hair was blonde just like yours.”

“We match daddy. We’re the same!”

“We are the same,” he tucks her in, grabbing her favorite stuffed animal, a gray bear named ‘Muffin’ so she can hold onto him while she sleeps. He turns on the white noise machine and the night light before turning off the main lights and walking back towards the bed. Justin kisses his daughter on the forehead and both of her cheeks and she wraps her arms around his neck for a hug. “Nighty night mini, sleep tight. Don’t let the bed bugs bite. I love you.”

“No bugs can come in here silly. Nighty night daddy,” she yawns. “Love you.”

He had just barely closed his eyes when he heard her on the monitor and he rushed into her room to check on her. “What’s wrong baby?”

“I miss mama.” The tremble in her voice makes his chest hurt.

“Come here,” he sighs as she crawls into his lap. “How about you sleep in mama’s spot tonight? Would that make you feel better?”

She nods slowly, sleep still laced all over her features. He carries her into the room and places her in your usual spot and he can hear her giggle a bit.

“What’s so funny?”

“This pillow smells like mama. Like she’s right here.” She whispers in shock and he shakes his head in amusement, both of them drifting off to sleep with smiles on their faces.

The next day, Remi wanted to get into her costume. She’d been watching a lot of Spidey and his Amazing Friends and was convinced that she was Gwen Stacey aka Ghost Spider. So when her grandparents bought her a costume, she wore it pretty much daily. And her dad had to be Thor…for obvious reasons. The superheroes saved the city from the green goblin’s plan to turn everyone into hamsters and then they had to save Muffin from Doctor Octopus’ evil lair.

“We make a pretty good team, Spider Gwen.” Justin says, putting the Thor hammer on the couch.

“It’s Ghost Spider daddy.” She corrects him.

“Oh I'm sorry Ghost Spider. How about you take your costume off and we take a little snack break? Superheroes need food to keep up their energy.”

After enjoying her apple slices with peanut butter, Remi headed off to her playroom to draw while Justin cleaned up the kitchen so he wouldn’t have to scramble to find things while making dinner.

He finds her sitting at the table, peacefully scribbling on a piece of paper until she gestures for him to sit down in the tiny chair. Taking a look at the chair, Justin is about to tell her he won’t fit before she cuts in like she was reading his mind.

“You can fit daddy. You not too big for it.” The chair is surprisingly a lot stronger than he thought, but he doesn’t want to push it so he settles down on the floor next to her chair, giving her his undivided attention. He’d spent so many days growing up looking up to his dad and trying to put into place the lessons that he learned from him but never in his wildest dreams did he think about how rewarding it would be to have his own child. This little blonde perfect being was his and the love he had for her was out of this world. It really felt like a piece of his heart was just living outside of his body, sitting there mindlessly drawing pictures that would inevitably end up in his locker as a reminder of what really mattered.

For dinner he made her some salmon, sweet potato fries, broccoli and some mangoes. As he was cooking, he played some music and Remi suggested they have a dance party.

“What do you wanna listen to mini?” He asks, holding the phone.

She stands next to him with a serious look on her face, furrowing her eyebrows in deep thought. “The Cars song please!”

Remi starts jumping up and down as “Life is a Highway” plays on the speakers. She grabs his hand pulling him away from putting food on her plate so he can dance with her. Justin watches intently as she wiggles her arms and shakes her little body as she pleases and joins in, imitating her moves and singing along. If he could bottle up these tiny moments he would and he’d savor them just to be able to look back on them in the future because his mini was already growing up too fast.

His point was proven on Sunday afternoon when Remi suggested they make slime or “swime” because she learned how to do it in preschool last week and made you stop at the store to get all the necessary supplies. Although he was secretly looking forward to this little science project with her, it was just another reminder that she was much closer to kindergarten than she was to the newborn stage. He followed the detailed directions that Remi got from school and added glue and food coloring to a bowl and let her stir.

“Do you wanna add in the baking soda?” He hands her the spoon and she dumps it into the bowl.

“Uh oh daddy I spilled. I need a tissue.”

“It's okay, we can clean it up when we’re done. You can keep mixing, you’re doing so well.” Justin runs a hand down her ponytail, proud of himself for successfully getting it all, even if it took him three tries. In his defense, Remi had a lot of hair to work with. “Next, we need to add some of this saline solution and mix it with our hands. Are you ready?”

Remi rolls up her sleeves with her dad’s help and digs into the bowl, kneading the slime with so much joy in her face. The orange slime came out gooey and perfect and they played with it for a while, cleaning everything up together when they were done.

By the time they reached Monday, he was exhausted. But he was in charge of their big activity today and he really wanted to close out this daddy-daughter weekend on a good note. They got in the car and drove to a local marsh about 20 minutes away from the house. He helped her out of the car and they walked towards the hiking trail. “Okay mini, mama’s gonna be home in a few hours so I thought we could do a scavenger hunt. Do you know what a scavenger hunt is?”

She shakes her head no but looks very intrigued.

“I have this egg carton that you helped me paint the other day and we’re going to find things that match the color. So in the pink part we need to look around and find something pink. Think we can do that?”

Remi puts her fist up in the air and it really reminds him of himself, “yeah, let’s go!”

As they worked on completing the rainbow scavenger hunt, Justin went down memory lane for a bit. “A long long time ago, I used to go outside with uncle Mitch and uncle Patrick and we used to collect things. Sometimes we would even bring home little animals like tiny frogs and lizards.”

“Ew daddy! Those are swimey.” She exclaims, gasping when she spots a bright red flower to add to her collection. “I like this game.” Remi hugs one of his legs, holding out her hand so they could keep exploring. Along the path he would look up the flowers based on colors and tell her the names so she could try to repeat them to her best ability. He told her about how someday soon they’d have to go fishing together so he could show her how it’s done. She was just excited to be on the boat again.

Before he knew it, you were texting him to let him know you were picking up dinner on your way home and the two of them found their last items as fast as they could and walked back to the car. You were already in the house when they got home and Remi ran into your arms immediately, not wanting to let go.

“Oh hi sweet cookie, did you have fun with daddy?”

“Uh huh, daddy is the best! I love him,” she mumbles into your shoulder.

“I love him too, he’s pretty great isn’t he. You’re so lucky sugar, you have the best daddy in the whole world.” Justin walks up to you and wraps his arms around both of you, sandwiching Remi in the middle. He gives you a kiss on the cheek and kisses the top of the toddler’s head. “So…tell me everything. What did you and daddy do?”

She takes a deep breath and you know you’re in for a long story. You catch your husband’s eyes and he shoots you a tight lipped smile as he goes back outside to your car to get your bags inside. Remi doesn’t let you go as you walk her to the couch.

“It was sooooo fun…” she begins, telling you every single detail without missing a beat.

#Justin Herbert #justin herbert imagine #justin herbert x reader #Justin Herbert fanfic

[luvhhannie]

in every universe | y. jeonghan x reader

𓇢𓆸 synopsis: in every universe, judgement, betrayal and love seem to lead you and jeonghan to be destined to drift away. would there be any universe where destiny finally leads you two together?

𓇢𓆸 genre: romance, angst, mutual pining

𓇢𓆸 cw: major character death, cheating, self harm, suicide, references to nothing new, unrequited love, just angst man (not proof read)

𓇢𓆸 wc: 2.70k

𓇢𓆸 a/n: is this fic kinda related to my break up? who knowsss, get what you get from this fanfic. anyways, reblogs and hearts are very much appreciated! thank you for the support! 🤍

“let’s break up” you said as you stand firmly in front of your boyfriend, now ex, jeonghan. he looked at you sternly and sighed.

“okay.” he simply said. you gulped as tears suddenly fill up your eyes. you never wanted to break up with him, yet you knew that if he was the one breaking up with you right now, you would go insane. he suddenly opened his mouth.

“i’m sorry, really, i just don’t love you romantically anymore. we’ll still stay best friends, right?” he said. this is a healthy break up. you reminded yourself. you smiled softly at him.

“of course.” that was exactly a week ago before you found out he has been cheating on you behind your back. you were curious to see how he was doing so you looked through his socials when you saw he already had matching icons and bios with another person. you also saw that he has been commenting on the third party’s posts months even before your breakup.

“i just want you to be honest with me, jeonghan. was the reason for the breakup was because you didn’t love me anymore, or because you’ve been going behind my back MONTHS back into our past relationship?” you texted him. you only wanted the truth, you even dmed the other girl as you wanted to make sure that your assumptions weren’t real. yet her ignorant replies just proved your point that he knew what he was doing.

jeonghan denied everything you have said. you always trusted your gut feeling, so you cut him off completely, telling him that you were done with his friendship and lies.

“don’t ever contact me again, starting tonight. whatever happened to us in the past is nothing now. you betrayed my trust and i could never look into your eyes ever again.” you texted him, paragraphs by paragraphs, only for him to reply with two measly sentences.

“i don’t judge you for that but i don’t want to argue with you, proving that i am not a cheater. goodbye, yn.” that was the last thing you have ever heard of your ex. you always wondered if you did the right thing by cutting him off. but then again, he betrayed your trust and lied to you. you would’ve been okay if he said the real reason why he wanted to break up. this is the universe where your soul suffered the most. meeting him, talking to him and developing feelings for him over the years, finally loving him and having him as yours and you as his, then suddenly, ending as strangers all over again, but now with memories.

though, your soul might also think that the universe where you had passed away is the most miserable. in this universe, you had met jeonghan through your brother. you slowly developed a crush on jeonghan and began falling in love with him. from his sweet antics to his playful gestures. you were in love with him, so you decided to confess. the answer you got only got you in your worst state yet. you unfortunately caught a disease where unrequited love could kill you. either you lose the memories of the person you love to survive, or die loving the person you are infatuated with. your love for jeonghan was so strong you wanted to carry the sickness till your death, as long as you don’t forget yoon jeonghan.

in every universe, your love for yoon jeonghan is as powerful as the universal force. in every universe, you have found home in jeonghan, and so did he. in this universe, you and jeonghan were highschool classmates. you both had crushes on each other, yet no one maked a move to one another, afraid of the other’s response. you two pined on each other, crushes slowly turning into love. however, on one faithful day, jeonghan finally decided that he will confess to you. unbeknownst to him, that was also the last day of you attending your highschool.

“i like you, yn. i like you a lot.” he confessed. you smiled sadly at him as you hold his hands.

“i’m so glad you do. i like you too. ever since we met.” you confessed back. you and jeonghan started crying and finally held each other’s body.

“i’m sorry, i’m moving away. i should’ve said something earlier.” you cried in his comforting arms. he sniffled and looked into your eyes.

“it’s okay, yn. let’s live this moment for now, okay? let’s love each other one last time here. promise me we’ll still keep in contact?” he asked you as he wipes your tears away. you smiled sadly.

“of course.” in this universe, no one cheated. but a promise was broken again. you and jeonghan never kept contact with each other, even during and after graduation. as time flies by, he already graduated college, and so did you. during one evening, one of his coworkers asked him if he wanted to go to one of his friends’ wedding. jeonghan being a good friend, he agreed.

finally at the wedding, jeonghan and his friend, seungcheol, waited for the bride to walk the aisle. seungcheol told jeonghan that his friend, and also coworker, joshua, was crying before the wedding started. joshua had told seungcheol that he was going to marry the most perfect person on earth and that he would die for her. jeonghan laughed at his story, thinking how silly the statements joshua had made when they finally heard the piano keys playing, indicating that the bride will soon start walking.

hearing the church door open, the guests started standing up and looking at the bride. jeonghan finally realized that joshua’s statement weren’t silly. the bride that joshua is going to marry really is perfect. the bride that joshua is going to marry is the same girl he dreamed of marrying back in highschool. he watched as yn walk down the aisle, trying to stop the tears coming out of his eyes. he silently watch the girl he has always loved smile to the guests, when both of them made eye contact. jeonghan thought that the world stopped spinning and everything was in stop motion. she took a deep breath and smiled sadly at jeonghan, continuing to walk towards her fiancé. jeonghan could only watch the two joyous couple in the background. finally hearing them both say their vows, jeonghan closed his eyes, letting the tears he has been putting up fall down to his cheeks. cheers and shouts erupted from the chapel as the newly wed couple share their first kiss. he knew at that moment, you have never loved him as much as he had loved you. he knew that you were never his. he knew that even if you deserve the love you have right now, he will never, ever, win it.

jeonghan’s soul might say that was the universe he had suffered the most. however, the universe where your mental health took over your body says otherwise. in this universe, you searched for treatments and help from professionals in the mental health field because of depression, and that is where you met yoon jeonghan, a psychotherapist. you were in your early twenties while jeonghan was in his late twenties. he has been your therapist for a couple of months now and has helped you a lot. despite his aid, you were still suffering from depression. the thoughts of you not having a purpose in the world and being a failure took a toll of your mental health. your therapist would always tell you that he’s always going to be there for you whenever you need help. there wasn’t any romantic intentions in his words, but platonic, a hint of wanted friendship. knowing you for a long time, jeonghan has taken a liking to you and thought of becoming friends with you. but of course, he still has to be professional.

“so, how have you been, yn? are there any thoughts that have been lingering in your mind?” he asks you as he usually does.

“i’ve been…alright. i’ve just been thinking of how i’m going to celebrate my birthday these days, since it’s next week.” you said to him. he wrote on his notepad as he listened to you.

“hm, that’s good. i hope you have a wonderful birthday, yn. how does your body feel right now? weak? good?” he asks you. you sit upright and blinked your eyes.

“my body feels okay. it’s just that sometimes i feel nauseous and tired.” you admitted. he suddenly stopped writing on his notepad and looked at you.

“have you been eating?” he asks. you nodded.

“yeah, i usually skip dinner though.” you said. he smiled softly and went back to his notepad.

“you should still try getting three meals a day. doesn’t matter how big or small the portion is, you need to eat.” he said. you looked up at him and smiled.

“yeah, i’ll try.” your check up went on for more minutes. as he finishes up the session, he suddenly looked at you.

“hey, yn?” he called out for you. you were already grabbing your handbag when he called you.

“yes?”

“i…i’m always here for you, you know that right? i’m your therapist, i’m here to help you. don’t be afraid to say everything to me. remember i’m always one call away.” is what jeonghan has said. but what he actually wanted to say was:

“i’m always here for you, yn. even if you only see me as your therapist, i’m also your friend. i’ll always help you no matter what.”

you and jeonghan always have a weekly therapy session, but the week after your last session, you never showed up. jeonghan thought it was probably because you were getting ready for your birthday. he even prepared a gift for you, a necklace with a clover pendant. he called you just in case you have forgotten your therapy session. it was unusual for you to miss a session. it was already 5 pm and you still haven’t answered him, even once. finally going past his “professionalism” agenda, jeonghan decided to go to your home. he drove to your apartment safely and knocked on your door several times.

“yn-ssi?” he asked through the front door. silence. jeonghan’s heartbeat started rattling through his chest. he suddenly twisted the door knob and unbeknownst to him, it wasn’t locked. he went inside your home and looked through every room. you weren’t in the kitchen, bathroom nor living room. finally reaching the last room, he opened the door to your bedroom. he widened his eyes as his mouth gaped open.

“yn?”

there you were, hanging from your ceiling fan. jeonghan could only stare in shock. dropping to his knees, he started breathing heavily.

did he not help you at all?

were all the check ups not helping you?

did he drive you to kill yourself?

was he not worth to be an aid to people?

he called 911 to report the incident and soon the authorities came, interviewing jeonghan.

he wasn’t even able to tell you that he wanted to be friends with you. he knew so much about you yet know so little about how you are. he was too late to tell you that he loved your company. that he loved you as a friend.

in every universe your soul has lived, you and jeonghan are destined to meet, destined to love each other, destined to leave each other. your soul always wondered, if there were such things as soulmates, were you and jeonghan one? destiny has always brought you two together, but also brought you two to fall apart on each other’s arms. were there any universe where you two meet, fall in love, and live your lives together? your soul always question this. in every death your soul has lived, it passes on to another lifetime.

in this lifetime, you’re just living your life as a choreographer. you have worked with countless artists and other dancers in your career. in this new chapter of your life, you were called to choreograph a dance for a kpop group you haven’t worked with yet. you have worked with countless kpop artists, from twice to nct. you were familiar with kpop and the indistry of course, but you were excited to meet the group you’re going to work with.

“here’s their practice room, i’ll leave you to it. i’ll have my assistant to come with you in there. again, thank you for accepting our request.” one of the higher ups in hybe ent told you as you bowed to them. you entered the practice room, feeling a sense of familiarity, and saw several guys already stretching, blasting their song in the room. you were given a couple of weeks to create choreography for their new song, but you told them that meeting the group should be done first as creating a bond between the artist and choreographer is as important as creating an amazing piece. one of the males went up to you and bowed.

“oh, hello! are you ln yn-ssi? i’m scoups. i’m the leader of the group. it’s nice to finally meet you.” he introduced himself as you bowed back.

“yeah, it’s nice to meet you too, scoups-ssi. i already listened to the song a couple of times and have ideas for it already, but i really do want to create a bond with the team first, since i’ll be working with you guys for a couple of months.” you smiled at him. he smiled back nodded.

“yeah, for sure. i get what you mean. here, i’ll introduce you to the members.” he said as he gathered the group together. he did a small introduction of you to the group and they instantly welcomed you with warm smiles. you thought that dk, dino and vernon had the sweetest smiles you’ve ever seen. meeting them one by one, you learned that they had units and you instantly clicked with the performance team.

“i’ve been a huge fan ever since i saw you compete with a contemporary piece at swf!” dino geeked over you. you chuckled at him and thanked him. you and hoshi were already familiar with each other, considering that you two were fans of each other. still talking to the performance team, you felt a gaze behind you. you looked back and saw the angel faced male. you smiled softly to him and bid your goodbyes to the performance team. you walked up to jeonghan and watched him stretch his arms. he looked back at you.

“hey”

“hey”

you both say at the same time. you two chuckled as you sit down next to him. you nodded your head, telling him to go first.

“oh, well, i was just wondering if we’ve met before? i feel like i’ve known you but i just can’t seem to remember” he asked you. he was thinking the same thing as you. you smiled softly and hummed.

“i don’t think so…but i do feel like we’ve known each other for a long time already.”

“i think so too, do you think we’re soulmates?” he joked. you laughed at his statement and walked away.

“if we were soulmates, i think your fans would go crazy to think that their idol is soulmates with a person like me.”

“hmm, better than a sasaeng!”

in this universe, your soul knew jeonghan’s soul, and so did his. your soul hopes that this universe will be the universe where you and jeonghan finally live your lives together in love. little did your soul know, another soul has been thinking the same thing ever since he has met a familiar warmth in this universe.

#yoon jeonghan x you #seventeen x reader #svt angst #svt fic #svt x reader #kpop #kpop fic #seventeen x you #seventeen #seventeen jeonghan #yoon jeonghan x reader #jeonghan x you #jeonghan x reader #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan #angst #fanfic #kpop fanfic

[aokoaoi]

hello, i forgot if i already send you my request or not... but if i am alreadg forgive me, i just want a lo'ak x f!reader when she closes to tuk and tuk loves her so much. when quaritch captures them, loa'ak saves them and saying he will never leave them alone again. thank you

protectiveness.

— pairings : lo'ak x fem!reader.

— warnings : slight avatar the way of water spoilers. slight violence.

— author's note : i loved writing the last parts sm💀. ty for the request! sorry it took so long though:').

Lo'ak loves how you treat his younger sister, Tuktirey. Often times, he even feels jealous of how close you and Tuk were. Like, him and you would just be hanging out by yourselves, and then the little girl would just randomly spawn outta nowhere and start crying for your attention..

You shouldn't have fed that girl your love all the time. Now she hogs you away from him as of there was no tomorrow for your attention. But of course, Tuk is just little after all, so she has to be treated fairly.

Still, Lo'ak just wishes she'd stop taking you away every few hours.

Not only him that loves you, but his whole family does. In fact, they treat you like you were apart of the Sully's. See, a small backstory for you was that you've never really had real parents. Yes, you were real Na'vi and did come out of a mother's womb, but you weren't raised by them.

You were left on your own in the clan, and your parents were no where on sight. You didn't have any other relatives too, so you practically just raised yourself. Neytiri was the one who learned about the absence of your parents and decided to take you in despite you repeatedly refusing.

You were probably around eight or nine around the time his mother decided to raise you. She said you still had lots to learn, but it wasn't too late for you to be taught the Na'vi ways since you were still somewhat young.

But even though his mother took you into her care and family, you didn't live with them like Kiri did. In fact, you had a place of your own and that's where you always hid when you wanted to be alone. You only ever come to their place when they want you to visit(which is practically everyday) but you always end the day back at your home.

Lo'ak had to admit, he wished you'd stop being so stubborn and just live with his family. He'd get to see you everyday, and he'll probably get more chance to hang out with you. Without Tuk.

And so of course, when the sky people landed their dirty asses back on pandora and the Suli family had to move to a more hidden village in order to protect their home in the forest, you were dragged with them.

You've got to admit, you wouldn't last a week without Neytiri's kids being literal chaos around you. You simply loved their bond.

It was nice living with the Awa'atlu, but minus the bullying, constant fighting, and how Lo'ak literally almost DIED. You loved their village, it was so open and fresh. You also happened to befriend a pretty girl named Tsireya.

You wondered if she liked Lo'ak considering how she looks at him.. you hoped not.

You'd rather be dragged under solid ground than admit you liked the boy. It was just a simple admiration anyway, it'll probably just pass as another crush phase like always. Plus, the boy probably only sees you as a reaaally close friend.

Anyway, Tsireya and him would look much more better. You've got to say it for yourself as well, you're probably starting to like Tsireya too. In a slight supportive platonic girl friend way.. yeah, totally.

And as the days went by, the more you learned about their ways. From the Ilu's, the proper way to swim, and to their environmental differences. But in those days, the sky people were also nearing. Ready to attack.

You so badly prayed among greatmother Eywa to stop those demons from harming your family and the Metkayina clan, but it was to no avail when you learned those demons were going from islands to islands, demanding of Jake's location.

You've never learned alot about the sky people, but Lo'ak along with his parents have told you enough to make you curse their every existence.

You desperately tried to shake away the marines trailing after you as it gained on your trail. You looked back, seeing as they were now closer. You didn't know where you are, and you were lost amongst the sea of long kelps with none of your friends with you. You swiftly turn, coincidentally missing a fire they shot at you as you did so.

Ditching the marine as you forced your way through the big leaves, and then you see Tuktirey desperately trying to swim away from an approaching underwater transportation. You swam past Lo'ak and Tsireya as your mind was on the little girls safety. You grab the girl from the waist as you caught up to her, surprising her as you leaded your Ilu away from the marines.

But when another underwater machine emerged from the forest of tall kelps, you were startled and accidentally bumped your Ilu's body onto it from the lack of instinct. You held Tuktirey close as you watched the machine near you both, trying to swim away until a net caught you both.

Ikrans dived into the water, grabbing the net as they pulled you up to the surface of the water. You instantly let out a big breath as your head made contact with the air, looking around you as Tuktirey choked for steady breaths. You tried to steady yourself onto the net, attempting to grab your knife from your thigh holster.

Tuk inches closer to you, desperately grasping onto your form as she sniffed, looking around in fear. You stabbed your knife through the net, trying to cut off its unbelievable material. "Hurry!" Tuk yells, looking at your knife as the net refused to cut.

"I'm trying, Tuk!"

"Why won't it cut?!" She yelled furiously, watching as the Ikran dragged you both by the boat. You let out a pained thud as your side landed on the cold surface of the mechanic, glaring at the sight of the demon bloods. You grasped Tuk by her arm, pulling her close to you as you kicked the net off your bodies, pointing your knife at the woman who tried to take Tuk.

"Drop the weapon!"

You hiss at her, knicking her arm as it drew blood when she tried to reach out for the young girl. You're too focused on her as you didn't notice another fraud reach out for Tuktirey, pulling her away from your hold. "No!" You yelled, spinning around to face the fraud who took Tuk.

Immediately, your hair was pulled as a hand reached to the back of your head, harshly pulling you down with great force. You tried to turn your head at the Avatar who took a hold of yoh, glaring at her. "You bitch! Go back to your dying planet and leave us alone!" You struggled under her hold.

"What'd she say?" Another Avatar perks up.

You scoffed, completely forgetting those morons don't speak your native tongue.

"She just called me a bitch!"

Never mind.

You watched, unthreatened as the man who was the reason of the last war back many years ago walked over to you. The woman grips on your braid tightly, making you yell in pain as she forced you to look at the Avatar in front of you.

"Oh, are you another Sully?" He questioned, crouching down at your level as if he was inspecting something. You glared at him, your unoccupied hand coming up to punch him in the face. When you successfully landed a hit, he let's out a grunt, before his own hand came up to grip the first you just used to hit him.

He glances at you slowly, before he turned at your hand.

"I guess not." He laughs. He took you by the arm, tugging on you without mercy as he dragged you to the railing where Tuktirey was held hostage on. He keeps you still as you tried fighting back, forcing you on your knees when you tried landing a hit on him.

"Let me go, you freak." You yelled at him in your native language. He laughed at you, amused as if he also understood your words. "Oh you're calling me a freak? Ironic." He states, raising his brows.

He leaves you with the young girl as she goes closer to you, her cuffs tugging on the rail. She drops by your side, leaning her head on your chest tiredly. "Don't worry, Tuk. Well get out of here." You attempted to reassure the girl.

"Navi inbound!" You hear the Avatar yell, pointing his gun at the sight of Na'vi's emerging from the side of the an island. Tuktirey let's out a gasp, "Dad!" She cheeres.

You grinned, turning around to face the Avatar man. "Neytiri's gonna kick your dumbass." You insult him. He growls at your words, ears twitching. He steps towards you, snatching the throat comms Lo'ak's father gave you just in case of emergencies and easy communication. He take your earpiece from your ear, and presses it on his ear instead.

You looked at the clan worriedly, simply wishing on Eywa they won't be hurt.

"Jake. Tell your friends to stand down." The man behind you spoke into your throat comms. "You want your kid back, you come out alone." He pulls out a gun, slowly pressing in on the back of Tuktirey's head. The girl whimpers, glancing at you worriedly as she feared if she made a single movement, she'd have to face consequences.

You hissed at his actions, glaring at the Avatars behind you. "Put that gun off the child." You growled.

"I took you under my wing, Jake. You killed your own, good men, good women. I will not hesitate to execute your kid." Your eyes widen at his words, finally getting a hint that he was not just making empty threats.

"(name), I'm scared." Tuktirey spoke in your native tongue, looking at you teary eyed. "It's gonna be okay, Tuk, I'm here." You comforted the girl, smiling at her as you tried to take her mind off the gun at the back of her head.

"Offers fixing to expire. What will it be?"

"Easy shot."

Quaritch blocks the Avatar's gun, looking focusedly on the sight of the Toruk Makto slowly approaching the boat. Alone.

"You hit him now, they attack. Wait till' he's on board." Tuk sniffed at his words, eyes shutting closed as she continued to bury her head againstyour chest.

Your heart dropped to your stomach as you saw a Tulkun emerge from the waters, your ears ringing as you hear the Tulkun let out a hollering roar. "Payakan!" Tuktirey yelled. You watched as the Tulkun dropped down into the cold surface of the boat, crushing the small sky people in the process.

You yelped as gunshots ran around you, making Tuktirey bury herself against you even more as she tried to silence out the sounds. Payakan let's out a shriek as an human aims at his face, making you wince.

You stood up and harshly bumped your body onto the mecha, making him yelp and fall to the ground as Payakan brutally crushes the demon form with his thick fin. You cheered at the sight, taking pleasure of the scene. "Yeahh! That's right Payakan! Do more!"

"Kneel, you fool!" Another sky-people turns to you, aiming his gun at you as if trying to intimidate. Payakan dragged his body further into the boat as his tail hits the mechanics around the place, making more further destruction. You see the Na'vi at the corner of your eye start to attack, with Toruk Makto leading them.

Small boats from another side get a better view of Payakan, and you notice that it was the same ones who tried to take a hit on him earlier. The Tulkun let's out a hollow roar, before you yelled out his name in warning. The tulkun swiftly closes its mouth as he ducks, his thick skin making the shot from the boat slide through instead.

Payakan goes back into the water, and you diverted your attention back to the clan. You watched, starstrucked in a bad way as attacks happened from left to right, and you lost sight of Jake.

An explosion ignites from the side of an engine, dangerously close to it. Your eyes widened as it suddenly turned on, and the fire immediately spreads onto the mechanic. You yelped as you were slightly tugged back, and the boat started going for at full speed. Tuktirey let's out a shout when the boat was lifted up in the air when it ran through rocks, making your head dizzy, and then you two were thrown back down as the boat almost crushed another boat.

"Ah– fuck, what the fuck is happening?" You grunted in pain, the side of your hip stinging from the harsh impact. You turned to Tuktirey as she starts tugging on her cuffs, biting her lips. "Are you okay, Tuk?"

She only let's out a hum as she dragged her hands back and forth as if it would do something. You looked around for a sharp item nearby that your foot can't reach, not noticing two boys arriving at your scene.

"Brother!"

"Tuk, I'm not your brother—" You shook your head at her, turning around but was met by the sight of Neteyam and Lo'ak. Lo'ak snickered at your shocked expression before strutting towards you, bringing out his knife.

"You alright there, princess? You look a little.. surprised. What? Did you not expect for your not expect for your knight and shining armour to come and save you?" He teased, looking at you as he cut off your cuffs without effort.

You looked at him with a blank face. "Stop talking, skxawng. You aren't even cutting my cuffs right!" You yelled at him, a playful smile coming to your face as he finally noticed his mistake. He cuts off your cuffs while Neteyam takes Tuktirey away as Tsireya was waiting for you all by the water.

"But you are alright, though, right?" The boy immediately starts inspecting you as he grasped your hand. You chuckled, nodding your head. "Yes, I am. No scratches whatsoever." You answered him. He let's out a sigh of relief before his other unoccupied hand comes to your cheek.

"I'm so, so sorry for dragging you into this," he starts apologizing for Eywa knows what, leaving you confused. "I'm never leaving you alone, ever again. If you see me leaving you alone, slap me. Okay?"

"Lo'ak, you skxawng." You teased, brushing your finger on his nose with slight mischief. You take his hand, starting to go to where Neteyam and Tuk exited from until Lo'ak went the opposite way.

"What are you doing?" You questioned, grabbing his hand before he could do anything else. "What about spider? We can't leave him." He spoke up about the boy. You looked behind him, looking further into the boat as you bit your lip.

"Come on, I'm sure he's fine."

"But, he's—"

"Lo'ak. He'll be saved later on." You told him strictly,cutting him off as you looked into his eyes, noticing how he was now hesitating by your words. "..alright." He nods, giving in.

You smiled, taking both his hands as you lead him away from the boat.

#avatar #avatar the way of water #avatar 2022 #avatar loak #avatar the way of water loak #avatar x reader #avatar the way of water x reader #avatar 2022 x reader #avatar loak x reader #avatar the way of water loak x reader #loak x reader #avatar twow #avatar twow loak #avatar twow x reader #avatar twow loak x reader #atwow #atwow loak #atwow x reader #atwow loak x reader #avatar tuktirey #avatar tuk #atwow tuk #atwow tuktirey #avatar the way of water tuk #avatar jake sully #avatar neytiri #—aoirequests #—aoifics #atwow jake sully #atwow neytiri