#HELP SHE FEELS LIKE A PARKS SIDE CHARACTER

[forbidden-sunlight]

yandere!ceo with villainess!reader scenario [part one]

warnings: suicide attempt/implication, implication of obsessive thoughts or love, workplace toxicity.

There might be potential triggers in this piece. If you do not feel comfortable with reading it, please hit the 'back' button on your phone or laptop and find something much more pleasant to read than a potential series of unfortunate events.

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Hey guys, and welcome to another original yandere oc x series, featuring the good-looking prick and CEO of his family's conglomerate, Yeo Jung-Hwa. This is a collaboration between me and the incredibly talented @deathmetalunicorn1. Special thanks to @pinkgoldweebgirl and @witch-of-the-writing-desk for their honest feedback on the earlier drafts of this project.

Part Two

Everyone has heard or watched the famous daily drama, Love and Fortune. Boasting over 124 episodes, it chronicles the romance between a cold-hearted CEO named Yeo Jung-Hwa and a hardworking, kind-hearted employee at his family’s conglomerate named Hyeong Mun-Hee. Of course, no drama is without conflict because that would be a very boring story to broadcast to the world.

 Including the male lead’s family opposing the idea that would marry someone beneath his social status, the villainous Park Seo-yun refuses to break off her engagement to him even when her feelings are completely one-sided. In retrospect, Park Seo-yun had been written as a vicious and incredibly stupid antagonist so that Heyong Mun-Hee’s perseverance through such bullying and her devotion towards Yeo Jung-Hwa were highlighted and touched the viewers with her kind heart. At least that is what you believe after being trapped in the world of this drama for…how long has it been? A year? Three years?

 It was hard to keep track of time when Being X -  that’s the name you gave to whatever is controlling this world like a goddamned puppeteer - would reset everything if you tried to act out of character such as amiably breaking up with male lead so he could be with Hyeong Mun-Hee or trying to overdose on sleeping meds in a desperate attempt to escape. Presently this was your fourth loop, and you were not going to let everything, the hard work you’ve put in, to be all for nothing.

You were going to move forward.

You were going to survive. 

You were going to have a peaceful life once this drama is over. 

Just say your lines and be ready for the next scene. Right?

According to the drama’s script, the reason that Park Seo-yun worked for the Yeo family’s conglomerate is because everyone thought it would be a brilliant idea for her to see how the business of her future in-laws operated and be prepared to step in if Yeo Jung-Hwa was incapacitated for any reason. In your humble opinion, it is honestly a bad idea for two reasons. One, it isn’t wise to mix business with a marriage, let alone an engagement that is written to be destroyed upon the arrival of the female lead. Two, it just doesn't make sense. Prosperous businesses are supposed to have a qualified Chief Operating Officer, otherwise known as a COO, to implement plans and the direction that the CEO wishes to follow as well as coordinating with other team managers. 

But this is common sense from the real world. You are stuck in a drama and currently the team manager of the conglomerate’s financial department. You might have a nice office in the back where you can see everything, but it barely alleviated your annoyance with Hyung Mun-Hee as she hunched over her desk, texting on her personal phone instead of correcting the mistakes she made on the documents you were supposed to hand out to everyone at today’s meeting; budget allocations, projected growths and downturns, including whether Team Leader Dokja Kim will be able to hire a few more employees that he really needs to help with the IT department’s neverending workflow. 

You know that this is a pivotal scene in both Heyong Mun-Hee’s character development and the beginning of your downfall. You know that after accusing the female lead of slacking off, forcing her to kneel and apologize for paralyzing your department because everyone worked overtime to cover her unexcused absences, this is when the male lead steps in and protects his darling from being bullied further.

To the writers of Love and Fortune: this example of lazy creativity is why your successful series eventually received backlash and everyone demanded a revamped version. In layman’s terms, fuck you assholes for making your job as the villainess a lot more difficult than it should be. 

You already made her kneel and all that jazz in the last two loops and it didn’t do shit. Not this time. You were going to go for a more subtle, professional approach. As long as it seems like you were antagonizing Hyung Mun-Hee because Love and Fortune is written from her point of view, you should be fine. Hopefully. God, you hoped so. 

If you actually got through this scene, you were definitely going to reward the team for their hard work with some baked goods for breakfast or a catered lunch. You haven’t used your infamous black credit card since this loop started. Rolling your shoulders back, you inhaled a slow, deep breath before leaning over towards the printer, grabbing the documents that the female lead emailed to you. You pretended to read them over, eyes narrowing and fingers thumbing through all of them until you reached the end. Rising from your seat, you walked out of the office and addressed the staff, calmly. 

“Excuse me everyone, but may I have a moment of your time?” Your slightly agitated voice caused all seven team members to stare at you with faces that ranged from confusion, fear, and curiosity. You respectfully incline your head. “Thank you.” You held up your little prop in the air for all to see. “Whoever emailed me the paperwork I am to present at this afternoon’s meeting, please come to my office. I have some questions about the context.”

An uneasy silence fell upon the office, making your heart stink. Shit. You needed to improvise and fast before Being X noticed. You sighed, pressing two fingers to the side of your temple to make it seem like you were starting to feel a headache coming on, which funnily enough you were. 

 “I’m not going to bite anyone’s head off, I promise. There are just a few things in here that do not make sense and I’d like to understand before I am to present them as the team leader.” Please take the bait, Heyong Mun-Hee. You thought pleadingly with your eyes closed. If you have any self-respect left or at least feel a little sorry for being lazy, stand up and admit your mistake so that your perseverance shines through in this scene. You’ve done it before, you can do it again. 

When you opened your eyes, she was still sitting at her desk with wide eyes and a flushed face, clutching her phone as if it were a lifeline. Your eyebrow twitched. You have got to be kidding me. You thought sourly. This isn’t how a female lead is supposed to act, let alone an actual employee of a multi-million won company.

 Fine. If she wasn’t going to come to you willingly, then you couldn’t play nice. 

You were about to call her out  when she suddenly stood up and made a beeline towards your office, passing by you and taking a seat in your office. Huh? Isn’t this a bit rude? Unfortunately your role isn’t to ponder why certain people like common decency. So you turned around, walking back inside your workspace and closing the door behind you. Once you sat down behind the dark mahogany desk that was at least twice the size of a normal cubicle, you booted up your desktop and logged into the company’s bookkeeping program before swiveling the monitor around so that Hyeung Mun-Hee could see where she made her mistakes.

“Assistant Manager Hyeung Mun-Hee, I noticed that there were some miscalculations here,” You moved your cursor over one column. “And here.” You moved it to the right. “Here as well.” You moved it back to the left, right in the middle. “The formula you imputed for Columns H to J is incorrect. I want you to refer to your department manual and make the necessary corrections before sending it out to the other departments. I trust you can handle this task?” 

She should be able to. After all, the female lead had a buffer for being extremely intelligent and a math whiz in the script. That’s why she was selected to work here instead of Human Resources, where her communication skills were also top notch. Hyeung Mun-Hee quickly nodded, standing up from her seat and almost bolting back to her desk, still holding onto her phone like a security blanket. Which was a little odd. You don’t remember her being so protective of it in the previous loops. 

You reclined back against your chair. Oh well, no matter. Time to see this house of cards come crashing down in five minutes. Too bad it can’t be longer. But the show must go on, right? She  might be scripted to fail, but you gave her a chance to correct her mistakes. So in the end, it was truly and solely all her fault, not yours. 

Sure enough the phones began ringing off of the hook, followed by shouting from a few of the senior employees. You got a frantic phone call  from Research/Development manager Choi Iseul, asking why the promised budget had been cut in half. Closing out the screens on your desktop, you reassured the poor girl that you would look into this matter immediately before hanging up. She really didn’t need the stress right now at four months pregnant. 

You stepped out of the office, demanding what was going on. All eyes turned to the leading lady herself, her head down and face pinkened in embarrassment. You blinked. “Assistant Manager Hyeung Mun-Hee, what happened? You did fix the report as I had asked, right?” You controlled the tone of your voice, careful to not show anger and annoyance, strictly professionalism. You were pretty sure that you didn’t sound like a vindictive bitch either. But somehow she took your question as her cue to shout at you, to stop bullying her before running out towards the elevator. And right into the arms of the male lead. 

You exhaled a deep breath, running a hand through [Hair Color] tresses before you turned your attention back towards the team. “I need to fix this report and send it off to the other departments or else things will get ugly. I know I’m asking a lot right now, but could you screen the incoming calls? If any of them asks, please let them know I am making the necessary corrections and will email it to them promptly. Disregard the one that they’ve received from Assistant Manager Hyeung Mun-Hee.” 

Everyone clamored in agreement before diving back into their work, some already answering the phones and reciting exactly what you asked them to say as you bolted towards your office, slamming the door behind you. Considering that this isn’t your first loop, you had already taken the liberty of creating the correct report this morning before clocking in at the office. The issues were the same, so it took you all but twenty minutes to adjust and send it out to the managers. 

The calamity that struck evaporated in an instant, and the phones had stopped ringing. To you, it only heralded the opening sequence of the next scenario. Looking up from your phone, you saw two people walk out of the elevator. The female lead was dabbing her puffy face with a checkered handkerchief, standing by Yeo Jung Hwa himself as he got off his own personal device, no doubt finishing his talk with the CFO about his darling’s little fuck up. 

Placing your phone face down on the desk, you watched them glide across the room before the CEO reached your office, opening the door with a frown stretched across his face. 

Yeo Jung Hwa. The male lead of Love and Fortune, blessed with good looks, riches, and has been in charge of the conglomerate since he was twenty years old. A classic tyrannical CEO that almost everyone loved to read or watch because they’d see how soft he was around his lover and wanted that same kind of treatment for themselves. You saw him as more of a cunning snake who knew what he wanted and would use any means necessary to get it.

But whatever. Time to get into character. You thought as you stood up, eyeing the male lead apathetically. “Good afternoon, sir. How can I help you?”

“Explain what happened.” He said, amethyst eyes narrowing at you. Yes, he has fucking purple eyes thank you goddamned screenwriters. 

You raised an eyebrow. “Explain what, sir?” You asked. “The incident that has everyone in a panic?” Receiving nothing but silence from him, you continued. “It’s been resolved. I’ve already emailed all of the department heads the correct report to refer to at today’s meeting. I did tell Assistant Manager Hyeung Mun-Hee to fix the mistakes I’ve shown her,” You glanced at your employee before averting your attention back to the prick. “But when I looked at what was sent out, she did make a few adjustments…just that it only made matters worse and could have cost the company a lot of money.” You crossed your arms, leaning back against your desk. “Her performance was unacceptable, and she is my responsibility as her team leader. Which is why I would like to have Assistant Manager Hyeung Mun-Hee participate in this month’s upcoming financial seminars. A little refresher for two weeks, using her vacation days, and pass the tests so that there will not be a repeat of this incident again and jeopardize the conglomerate. Or would you see this as unfair treatment of an employee, CEO Yeo Jung-Hwa?”

You watched as the male lead looked over his shoulder, glaring balefully at his lover before he turned back to face you. “So be it. I want to see the results of her tests once they are completed and the lecturers aren’t under your payroll, Team Leader Park Seo-yun.”

“With all due respect, they are under your payroll, not mine.” You said drolly. “I don’t care how long it will take for her to complete the classes or to do the coursework. I want results, same as you. I do want to keep the completion certificates. If she doesn’t do it or chooses not to for whatever reason beyond a medical emergency, suspension with pay. No ifs, ands, or buts. Are these acceptable terms, sir?”

He didn’t like it, you could tell. Any event that separated from Hyeung Mun-Hee would put him in a sour mood and become more of a grouch. Kind of like a child having his favorite toy being taken away because he did something bad. But in this situation he couldn’t afford to have a temper tantrum  for obvious reason:

1) Displaying an immature attitude in a professional environment will make him less appealing to the viewers.

2) As previously stated, it was the female lead’s fault that this whole mess happened. He saw the evidence of her major fuck up, the CFO saw it, everyone did. Trying to sweep it under the rug would only incite more rumors of nepotism. He has a reputation to maintain. 

“...Fine.” He spat out. You nodded, seeing him turn on the ball of his foot and stomp out of the room. Nope, he is not happy about this. Neither is the trembling female lead standing in front of you. She really was a pretty woman, with reddish-brown hair falling past her shoulders and hazel eyes glistening with tears. 

“You’re dismissed. I’ll let you know the seminar schedule once I hear back from HR. Please return to work, you still have two hours left on your shift.”  You said, expecting her to go running to the restroom and cry, have a mental dialogue about how things were unfair right now but she will come out on top and preserve as it was written in the script. Except…she didn’t leave right away. She was glaring at you as if you were the most despicable person in the entire world, which you guess holds some truth. 

“You said this is all my fault, but it isn’t because I wasn’t trained properly! Where do you get off, saying such horrible things like this?! Just because you are rich doesn’t mean you have a great personality!”

Your eyes widened in shock. Okay, this scene was definitely not part of the drama in the last three loops. And she’s smart enough to know to not say this, even if the door is closed! 

Let’s be serious. No one should ever talk to a supervisor like this, even if they are an absolute scumbag and you hate their guts. 

“Assistant Manager Hyeung Mun-Hee, you were trained to learn and carry out these tasks during the ninety day trial period after being hired by the conglomerate,” You said as you tried to calm your racing heart. “I showed you the mistakes you made, and it’s clear that you made almost no effort to fix them. If you had, then this incident would not have happened. That is why you are going to sit through those seminars and take notes, or you will be suspended without pay. This is not up for debate. And just because I am rich doesn’t mean you can talk down to people as if you are better than them, myself included. Now leave. And don’t let me hear such vulgar words in here again or I will punish you. Are we clear?” 

“You-“

“Are you going to make me pull up your file and show everyone your certificates of completion from those training programs, the proof that you were trained to do your job and you’ve chosen to let others do your work for you?” You asked. “It’s fine to ask for help from others when needed, but you have to take responsibility for your actions or else you’ll never be able to surpass me.”

You watched Hyeung Mun-Hee’s face turn a darker shade of magenta and the tremors in her petite frame increase greatly before she excused herself. You could see the steam coming out of her ears; whether it was from embarrassment or anger, you weren’t certain. So long as she got your message and you acted your part as the villainess, then that should have met almost all of the requirements needed to move onto the next episode. The remaining factors were  the viewership score and Being X’s approval. 

The viewership score is a daily simple rating system numbered from 1 to 5 golden stars. If the episode reaches 3 and above, you’re clear. If the score is a 2, and Being X did not like your acting or even how everything played out, the loop would start all over again from the first scene. Perhaps instead of puppeteer, it’s more like a perfectionist director whose opinion can also be swayed by the viewership score. If the audience watching this fucked up universe enjoyed what they were watching, they’ll make it known. 

After all, more ratings means more money, even if you’re not getting paid for this.

 The last two loops where this episode happened, you followed the script to the letter without making any improvs. It didn't work out in the end, as you recalled with a frown at the memory. After being forced to kneel on the floor as you had done to her, you watched the lovebirds embrace. Well, at least the male lead was trying to comfort his ‘pure-hearted’ lover when that bitch smiled down at you from over his shoulder. As if she had won the game and you were the loser. Being X didn’t like the viewership scores back then. Now? Well, that’ll depend on whether or not you’ll wake up to the setting of episode 25 tomorrow morning. It’s either that…or finding yourself in the interview room again with Hyeung Mun-Hee during the pilot episode, her job application in your hand. 

Fuck my life. You thought glumly. 

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Congratulations, Congratulations, Congratulations!

Important things must be said three times.

The viewership score on Episode 24 has arrived!

Taglist: @nunezs-stuff @imperfectbloodmoon @yandere-dark-cupid @justcressida @cassanderasblog @faesdreaming @faux-ecrivain @abelheilonwife @tired-of-life-86 @tonightwrites @ixchelhernandez4 @aiimee9 @swallowtail-lotus @diannaflight @sweetbatherodonkey @strangepoppy @mochinon-yah @classicdummy @lanxianschoenheit @aman3kkun @beardedblizzardexpert @reiivven @majestichugs

#forbidden-sunlight #yandere x reader #yandere male #yandere #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere!ceo #fem!reader #villainess!reader #ns.fw #yandere manhwa x reader #x reader #tw sui attempt #tw sui implied #tw work toxicity #cw sui attempt #cw work toxicity

[lovergojo]

WHAT AM I, YOUR CHAUFFEUR?

summary: In which you sit in the backseat of your lover’s car, instead of right next to them.

characters: SATORU, SUGURU, MAKI, MEGUMI

cw: kissing, reader referred to as passenger princess in Suguru’s other than that no pronouns are mentioned, POC friendly, no skins tones mentioned!

SATORU

Picture this: you park in the parking lot of your local mall. You’re here to pick up your wonderful lover after shopping. As you sit and wait, suddenly familiar hands wrap around you and cover your mouth and you’re stabbed in the chest.

This is basically what Gojo Satoru feels like when you get in the backseat of his car instead of your spot, which is right next to him in the front passenger seat.

“You might as well as kill me.”

You let out an exasperated sigh, “Satoru.”

“Be honest, do you even love me?” He turns around in his seat, his cerulean eyes peeking over the rims of his glasses.

“Satoru-“

“No, no, it’s fine, I’m fine, I mean we’ve only been dating for 3 years and it’s fine if you want to throw it all away because you’re practically saying you don’t love me right now!” He’s voice grows louder until he’s practically shrieking, staring at you with wide eyes.

“Okay! I’m sorry!” You quickly get out of the car trying to hide your smile. You open the car door and get in and look over at Satoru to find him beaming at you.

“Oh hi baby!” He says way too happily and leans over to kiss you on the lips. Again. And again. And again.

“…Hello ‘Toru, how was your day today?”

“It was great, until my lover decided to stab me in the back.”

Yeah, don’t expect him to forget about this. He will bring it up to you no matter what

“Toru, what do you want for dinner?”

“To not be stabbed in the heart by my lover.”

No matter what.

SUGURU

After fitting all of your groceries into the trunk Suguru’s trunk, he helps you close it and you both get into the car. Except you sit in the back seat.

Suguru didn’t even realize you were sitting back there, he was still just waiting for you to get in the front seat, and when you didn’t he turned towards you curiously.

“You’re gonna sit back there?”

“Yeah.”

“Not in the front seat?”

“Yeah.”

“Really?”

“…Yeah?”

He hums and shrugs his shoulders and says, “Okay then, I guess you don’t want to be my passenger princess and use the aux cord huh?”

And that has you quickly sitting up and getting out of the backseats to sit next to Suguru in the front seat, who had a smile on his face the whole time.

“Changed your mind huh?”

“Shush.” And you lean over to kiss him on the cheek as an apology.

He grins at you before pulling out of the parking lot, one hand on the wheel, and the other intertwined with yours as they rest on the center console.

MAKI

Maki holds your hand as you guys cross the road from the restaurant you too stoped at for a date.

As you two approach the car, she goes to the passenger side to open the door for you, only for you to ignore the open door and open car door to the back seats.

You don’t have to look up to see the narrow look she gives you, before going over to you and standing outside the open car door.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Your eyes wide at her stern tone.

“Getting in the car?”

All it takes is for Maki to keep staring at you before you slowly get out of the back seat and and close the door before facing her and trying to cuddle up to her.

“So now you wanna be cute?” She says with a raised eyebrow.

“Aren’t I always cute?” You look up at her with a smile and she clicks her tongue before rolling her eyes and wrapping a hand around your waist before planting a sweet kiss on your lips

“You are. Bratty, but you are.”

You laugh and she smiles at you before guiding you back to your seat, which is right next to her.

MEGUMI

Megumi waits in the car as you say goodbye to Yuji and Nobara after watching Human Earthworm 4, which Megumi has no idea why it even exists in the first place, so he opted out to save himself from the horrible sight of that god awful worm thing.

Megumi is so focused on how pretty you look with the sun hitting you perfectly, that he doesn’t even realize that you’re sitting in the backseat until he sees you passing by the door to the front passenger seat.

You buckle yourself in and smile at Megumi nonchalantly.

“Hi ‘Gumi, how was your day?”

He freezes, staring right at you with a frown on his face.

“Good…what are you doing back there?”

“Hm? I thought I’d sit here this time.”

“Why though?” He questions, he looks to the empty front seat next to him. There’s no trash in the seat, and nothing on the floor too. Was the seat to far back?

“No reason.” You have a hard time hiding your smile because of the constipated look on Megumi’s face. He looks so focused on trying to find out why you won’t sit next to him, you accidentally let out a laugh and he’s whipping his head towards you and sees you smiling, before he lets out a groan.

This time, you let your laugh flow out freely from your lips and your moving to get into the front passenger seat, leaning over the center console you kiss Megumi all over his face.

“Sorry ‘Gumi, don’t be mad okay?” You say, still smiling into his cheek.

“Hmph.”

note: FIRST TIME WRITING FOR MAKI AHHH SO EXCITED AND DO YOU GUYS LIKE THE NEW BLOG THEME?? IT’S CUTE RIGHT???

#gojo x reader #jjk satoru #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #geto suguru #getou suguru x reader #geto x reader #gojo satoru x reader #maki zenin #maki x reader #maki x you #maki zenin x reader #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro x reader

[cyxnidx]

DADDY'S GIRL !

characters: dad!pantalone & dad!wriothesley

genre: hcs + imagines

a/n: i love wrio's design sb omgomgomg. also pls ignore how janky wrio's icon looks compared to pantalones :(

Pantalone

dad!pantalone, who can't help himself but laugh when his little girl tries to wear his glasses.

"why, look at you." pantalone coo's, finger gently tickling his two year olds stomach while she tries to fit his seemingly oversized glasses onto her small framed face. "just like daddy, aren't you?"

dad!pantalone, who's ever so gentle with his little girl.

dad!pantalone, who buys his little one everything she could ever want.

walking beside pantalone, his little girl wobbles slightly from her thick bubble coat keeping her warm in the harsh winter. they pass a store, and the small girl stops for a moment, noticing a toy through the glass. "daddy?" she calls, pointing at the glass as she waits for her father to crouch down, matching her eyesight. "can i have one?" she asks sweetly, eyes going wide. pantalone smiles, "of course, darling."

dad!pantalone, who lets his teenage girl do his nails and makeup.

dad!pantalone, who laughs to see himself reflected in his teenage girl's personality.

dad!pantalone, who compares his girls baby pictures to her now, smiling when he notices she hasn't changed a bit.

walking down the corridors of his home, pantalone smiled as he saw picture frame after picture frame of his little girl, years seemingly passing in a flash. though, with closer observation, he notices her face hasn't changed a bit - perhaps a newer birth mark, but nothing else. "dad?" he hears her voice. "what're you doing?" she questions. pantalone cocks his head slightly, smiling. "nothing - you just look the exact same in the face." he tells her, lightly tapping her nose in a playful manner.

Wriothesley

dad!wrio, who loves to help his toddler play with her little toys.

"daddy." he hears his little girl call for him, pulling at his index finger for his attention. wrio looks down, noticing her pointing at her dolls and doll house spread across the living room floor, pieces no longer where they were supposed to be. "help me, please." she asks politely.

dad!wrio, who adores it when his little girl curls into a ball in his arms late one night while watching a movie.

eating a handful of popcorn, wrio almost doesn't notice his little girl move the bowl to the table and instead places herself into his arms, face buried into his chest. wriothesley smiles softly, tightening his grasp around her smaller body as he continues to watch his movie.

dad!wrio, who smiles when his teenage girl still comes to him for help.

dad!wrio, who always lets his teenager do his hair whenever she deems fit.

dad!wrio, who always tries his best to model the man he hopes his little girl will fall for.

driving his teenager to her father-daughter dance, wriothesley pulls into the parking lot. "don't touch it." wriothesley tells his teenager, stopping her from touching the car door handle. "dad.." she groans before watching him get out of the car, walking to the other side and opening the door for her. "c'mon, let's go." he says, hand out to help her out.

dad!wrio, who feels his heart melt hearing his possessive toddler yell 'my daddy' for the hundredth time.

#cyxnidx #genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #pantalone #pantalone x reader #pantalone harbingers #pantalone imagines #wriothesley #wriothesley imagines #wriothesley hcs #wriothesley fluff #wriothesley x reader #wrio x reader #genshin men #genshin impact pantalone #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact wriothesley #i love them #fluff headcanons #fluffy

[wonderlandwalker]

First Impressions | Eddie Munson x Reader

Stranger Things Masterlist / Inbox

Summary: Eddie learns that Dustin has a recently reunited sister, and from the moment he meets you he's a goner.

Content Warnings / Tags: Pure fluff, henderson!reader, tiny mention of a fight but nothing descriptive, not edited, no use of y/n

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: Eddie brain rot cause I couldn't keep it in. Don't know if this is my best work but I'm planning to write more chapters on this so it's just a start, hope you like it

“You need a ride home after this?” It was more of a formality than an actual question, he always drove Dustin home after a session.

“Oh that’s okay, my sister is picking me up.” Dustin didn’t even look up from packing his things away, but Eddie’s head shot up.

“Your- you have a sister, since when?” As far as he knew Dustin was an only child, but now he was wrecking his brain trying to think if he had ever mentioned you before.

“I know you’re bad at math Eddie, but I just told you she’s driving so try and put the pieces together.” Dustin was looking up at him now, challenging him.

“Alright smartass, it’s time for you to shut up.” He told him as he ruffled through his hair, leaving behind an agitated Dustin trying frantically to fix it. 

The others had already gone home, but Dustin stayed behind late to help Eddie finish up, a habit that became more and more common as the two grew closer. When they finished packing up Eddie locked the door behind them, and while walking to the parking lot decided he wasn’t quite done interrogating Dustin.

“If you have an older sister, how come I've never seen her around before?”

“I mean she’s been around during holidays before, she lived with dad though but they had a big fight so she’s moved here.” It seemed like a sore topic, so Eddie dropped it for now.

As they got to the entrance of the school and felt the cool air on their skin Eddie indeed noticed another car in the usually empty lot, and you were sitting on the hood of it, a book in your hands as you patiently waited. The last rays of sunshine graced your figure as if the heavens themselves were blessing you, and Eddie had never been so sure he’d seena goddess in his life. It was just like the tales he knew so well, the ones he still devoted his life to, it was as if they were becoming true. You looked up when you heard them approach, smiling at the sight of them and giving Dustin a quick side hug as they reached you.

“It’s nice to meet you, I’ve heard a lot of good things.” You held your hand out for Eddie to take, but all he could do was look at it, staring ahead as if hitting pause in a game, he stood still. He wanted to react, to not make the most horrible first impression possible, but the longer he looked at you the worse it got, getting lost in sight of your smile. “Alright, not a fan of handshakes, notes.” You chuckled as you withdrew your hand, and Eddie cursed himself for not having taken the opportunity to feel how soft your skin must’ve been. You looked at him again, your eyes piercing straight through his soul and he wondered if maybe he had found himself in one of his fantasy worlds, he must have. But the next second he shook himself out of it, because you were real, you were real and in front of him and expecting him to say something.

“I’m Eddie.” he said, nodding his head as if to confirm his own statement.

“So I’ve been told.” Another giggle slipped past your lips, and Eddie wasnt sure if it was from nerves or entertainment, but he was dying to hear more of it, even if he had to make a fool of himself to do so.

Dustins head kept going back and forth as if watching a tennis match of idiocracy. He had never seen Eddie so flustered, so used to the man flaunting with every opportunity that presented itself that this seemed quite out of character. In full disclosure, it was kind of freaking him out to see Eddie so beside himself, and it was freaking him out even further that he couldn’t figure out why. It was probably blatantly obvious to anyone else, but maybe it was for the best that Dustin couldn’t place where the tension originated from, either way, his patience had run out

“Can we go home now, I still have to call Mike to discuss our net strategies” You tore your eyes from Eddie, deciding that maybe it was for the best to head home.

“Yeah alright, maybe I’ll see you around Eddie.” You gave him one last smile as you got in the car with Dustin and drove off, but it took him another minute to pick his shambled ego up from the concrete ground as he berated himself for not being able to utter one coherent sentence. As he got in his van and drove home as well he decided he’d have to grill Dustin for more information on you the next time he’d see him. As he got to the trailer he grumbled a hello to Wayne before disappearing to his room, ignoring the backhanded comment he got about his grumpy disposition. 

He wondered if he’d ever be able to convince you he was cool, whether he’d be able to get you to agree to see him again, but after what just transpired he figured the odds were slim. Not that he’d give up so easily, he didn’t have much of a reputation to lose and if he’d be able to get you to laugh again that would be more than enough. But he didn’t get to wonder for long as Wayne knocked on his door, he was ready to tell the man to leave him alone, but the next sentence was one that confused him immensely

“Someone on the phone for you.” Wayne held the phone out to him, expecting him to get up from the bed and take it, but Eddie didn’t move an inch.

“For me, you sure?” He was still not quite sure what to do. “Unless another Eddie is living here I’m pretty sure.” He moved his hand again to accentuate the phone that was still on hold, but once again Eddie just sat there.

“If you want I can tell her to call back-” That’s when he sprung into action, snatching the phoen out of Wayne’s hand 

“No! No, I got it. Thank you.” The old man simply chuckled as he left again, closing the door behind him to give his nephew some privacy.

Eddie cleared his throat once before picking up the line put on hold. 

“Hello?” he asked, still not quite sure what to do.

“Hi, Eddie it’s me, just wanted to see if you were doing alright.” your sweet voice blessed his ears once more. He doesn’t know what he did to get the universe on his side like this, but he was grateful for it nonetheless.

“Yeah I’m good, listen-” Eddie figured this time he shouldn’t waste his chance, and he probably had some making up to do. “- I’m sorry if I freaked you out earlier, just never seen anyone that pretty before.” You were giggling again, and it brought the biggest grin onto his face. “You didn’t weird me out at all, it was kinda cute. I had to bribe Dustin to let me use the phone so I don’t have much time but I was wondering if maybe you’d like to go out this weekend?” Maybe he should’ve waited a beart before answering, but he was too eager to care.

“Go out, as in a date?” It got him blushing, the red creeping up on his cheeks as he wondered if that’s really what you were asking

“I mean, kinda, if you want to.” He could almost see you blushing on the other side of the line as well, and he decided it was now or never.

“I’d love to.” 

“That’s great, I’m still kind of new around here, do you know any good places?” Your smile was present as you spoke, and he was already looking forward to seeing it again, now knowing he wouldn’t have to wait long.

“How about I come and pick you up, we can go to the mall.” His confidence was growing with the minute now, absolutely elated by the turn of events.

“Im looking forward to it” He wondered what you’d wear, knowing whatever it was it would look beautiful on you, and he knew he’d spend the entire date amazed at your presence. 

“Me too” he said before the both of you hung up the phone, he had already started planning the most amazing evening out, and maybe, he thought, maybe this year really would take a turn for the better.

#eddie munson #eddie x you #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x henderson!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fandom #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie fics #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x you #stranger things fluff #eddie imagine #eddie munson imagine

[minimickzy]

Oh My God || Hazel Callahan

Listen- I believe in loser hazel and I find her to be perfect- I know this isn't my best fic but I've been in serious bottoms brain rot

dialog prompts:

"Hold my hand" "Absolutely not"

Characters: Hazel Callahan x Reader, the whole club

Word count: 2359

Hazel Callahan was your mortal enemy. Did she know? Probably not. It was honestly beside the point. Because what mattered was that bitch seemed to have it out for you since the start of high school. First, it was taking your topic for a history project. Whatever- no big deal. Then all the “accidents” spilling coffee on your backpack (she had given you money for a new one but still), tripping you in the walkways, and hitting you in the face with a volleyball (multiple times). After that, she got the better parking spot for senior year, and finally, the great big plump cherry on top, she took the lunch table you had practically reserved since freshman year. 

At the end of the day, the whole ordeal may be a bit over-dramatic… but that table was perfect. In the corner, you could either hide or have a great undisturbed lunch with your friends. Hazel had sat there one day with Josie and PJ. which was weird in itself because they never had eaten in the cafeteria before and you didn't even remember them being friends. 

For how much you didn't care about Hazel Callahan- she sure took a lot of your attention.  

If anyone else had done any of those things- you probably wouldn’t have thought anything about it. But this was Hazel Callahan who despite your best efforts you could not stop crushing on. 

The stolen table was a very recent development. As in on Monday and it was now Wednesday. You sat at the next best table with Sylvie and Krystal, watching as Hazel feverishly wrote something in her notebook as PJ seemed to make a grandiose speech. 

She had no right to look that attractive while sitting in your spot. You groaned and face-planted into your crossed arms on the table. 

“Are you good dude?” You rolled your head to the side to look at Sylvie and then let out another frustrated groan. 

“Everything is awful and I hate it here.” 

Krystal patted your back while Silive sighed, “You know what you need?”

“Hmm?” 

“To hit something.” 

You laughed from inside your arm fortress, “Okay Sylvie- what should I hit? A fucking tree? Jeff? A Huntington player?” 

“No, you should join the fight club! It’s for women empowerment- I’m trying to train up to deal with my stepdad ya know?” 

You lifted your head and gave your friend a questioning look. “Fight club? For women empowerment?” 

Sylvie and Krystal both nodded excitedly. 

“When and Where?” 

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

Of fucking course. 

When you walk in behind Krystal and Sylvie to the gym, the first person you see is Hazel.

Your body immediately fills with rage. At this point, it’s starting to feel like you're more angry at yourself for crushing on someone you barely even know. But you believe in self-love so you plan to continue projecting your anger onto someone else. 

Everyone was milling about and chatting, you left your bag on the bleachers by everyone else’s and followed your friends to the middle of the gym. 

Stella-Rebecca caught your eye and waved, which you gladly returned before PJ stomped as hard as possible on the floor to get everyone's attention. 

“What time is it?!” She screamed and was answered by a chorus of “3:15”s 

“That’s right you sluts! It’s time to get down and dirty!” 

You couldn't help the look of mild disgust that passed across your features. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. After al, Sylvie made some seriously questionable choices- you thought you could trust Krystal though. 

“Alright cunts- who wants to start us of-” PJ started by being cut off by Hazel who whispered something to her and then directed PJ’s attention onto you with a point of her pen. “Well look what the cat dragged in.” PJ gave you an unimpressed look which made you roll your eyes. 

“I can leave if this is a closed cl-” You started to point behind you to the door but Josie stopped you by waving her hands

“No- no you're more than welcome. PJ just gets a little into it- you know flashbacks to juvie and all that.” Josie gives a reassuring (and awkward) smile.

You pursed your lips and nodded, “Cool.” out of the corner of your eye you could see Hazel giving Josie a thumbs up. 

“Well, Since you’re fresh blood let's see what you got,” PJ says while smiling at you. 

“Okay,” you shrug. “I really don’t know what I’m doing though so don’t expect much.” 

PJ just brushes you off, “Don’t worry. It’s mostly just instinct.”

You nod and step into the center of the circle of girls. Okay, maybe this was a stupid fucking idea. 

“Let's see…” PJ looks around the circle, trying to decide who to pair you up with. “Hazel- why don’t you hop in.” 

Hazel looks nervous, but she still nods and enters the ring, giving you a small smile and nod. 

You look at her blankly, “Now what?” you ask.

“Now you hit each other.” PJ claps her hands together, “Fucking beat each other the fuck up!” 

“What-” You can’t finish your question because Hazel deals a hard hit right to your gut. “Fuck!” you double over in shock before gathering yourself again. “What the fuck.” 

Hazel looks a little confused but motions to herself, “Hit me now- that's how this works.” 

You give her the best “what the fuck” look you can convey before settling into a fighting stance. You thought there'd be a little lead-up or something.

You swung and got in a decent hit to the side of Hazel's face. It left a stinging sensation on your knuckles but you tried to shake it off. 

The two of you exchanged a few more punches and kicks back and forth before Hazel managed to catch you completely off guard and- 

BAM 

Your ass hit the ground hard. “Fuck!” you couldn't help the curse from leaving your lips. You let yourself unfurl onto the ground and stared at the ceiling. The girls around you clapped as you tried to catch your breath. 

“Good fight,” Hazel said, reaching one of her hands out towards you on the ground. 

You just looked at her, “Yeah. Good...” Suddenly your head hurt a lot more than it did a minute ago. “Fight.” This was definitely a stupid fucking decision. Maybe this is what killed you. RIP the girl who got her lights knocked out but the girl who was both the love and hate of her life. 

You tried to sit up but the world was kinda spinning. 

“Hazel, how hard did you hit her?” Josie asked as she joined Hazel looking down at you. Hazel looked like a lost puppy. 

“I didn’t think it was that hard- are you okay.” 

You laughed not handling the embarrassment of the situation well, “I am so good actually.” You went to stand up but stumbled before your legs gave out putting you back on the floor. 

Hazel tried to grab at your hand to help you up but you retracted your hand on instinct. “Hold my hand.” 

“Absolutely not.” 

Silvie barked out a laugh- “damn rejected!”

Hazel looked at you- her big blue eyes filling with hurt. Fuck. You didn't want to have to see those sad puppy dog eyes. You took hold of her hand and let her pull you up. If you thought the world was spinning when you were sitting, now it was like you were on a tilt-a-whirl. “Shit.” you couldn't keep yourself upright and leaned into Hazel so you didn't fall back to the ground. 

“Uh- I’m gonna take her to get some water.” Hazel sounded very concerned but you giggled. This was so embarrassing. Not only were you weak in front of your enemy- but also your crush. “Oh my god, I think I broke her!” 

PJ scoffed, “You just gave her like a concussion- she’ll be fine.” You nodded to agree with PJ. 

“Oh my god oh my god oh my god…” Hazel mumbled as she walked you out of the gym.

“I’m so so sorry.” She continued to apologize to all the girl's bathrooms where she propped you against a sink. “I didn’t think I was that strong.” She gathered some paper towels and got them wet, dabbing them to your forehead. 

In all honesty, you feel fine now. The dizziness was gone and replaced with a dull ache. But you were kinda enjoying Hazel being all over you. 

“It’s fine. Don't worry about it.” 

“If you want to hit me I get it- I deserve it.”

You laughed, “Yeah you can say that again.” You needed to practice biting your damn tongue. 

“I’m so sorry- I can’t believe I did that- I always do something stupid around you. I didn’t mean to hit you that hard- I just can’t like to focus with you around and I’m sorry-” Hazel continued to ramble and you started to zone out a little before saying the only thing running through your mind. 

“You stole my table”

Hazel stopped talking and looked at you. “No, I didn’t”

“Yes, you did.”

“What are you talking about? I’ve never stolen anything let alone a table- I don’t even know where I would’ve put-”

“No Hazel, my seat. In the lunch room.” 

She just stared at you and blinked. 

“You stole my spot- where I have sat every day for the last and you spilled coffee on my backpack and hit me in the face with volleyballs and… and… and now you gave me a concussion with your fists.” 

Hazel groaned and moved away from you holding her face in her hands, “Oh my god you must think I hate you.”

“Well yeah!” 

Hazel just groaned again. “I just like you.” 

“Oh yeah sure- wait- what did you just say?”

“I just like you okay,” She kicks the floor and starts to pout, “You’re just like really cool and like always around and you make me nervous.” 

“Oh my god.” 

“I know- i’m sorry- I knew you hated me cause of all that stuff”

“Oh my god-”

Hazel made more inhuman nosies as you started to laugh.

“Hazel what the actual fuck- you like me? You like me? For how long?” 

Hazel stopped with the noises “I don’t know? Like freshman year? Why?” 

“Despite all of the mishaps, and how much they pissed me off- I could not stop crushing on you… since freshman year.” 

Hazels jaw literally dropped, “What, no way?” 

“Yes way. Why didnt you just like talk to me?” 

“Well everytime I did I would somehow manage you hurt you.” 

You shook your head and laughed lighty, “thats actually fair, I can’t blame you for that.” 

She cracked a bit of a smile, relief from the last few seconds flooding over the both of you. 

“This is crazy.” 

You laughed, “it is. And to think all it took was you punching me to the ground.” 

She groaned, “god I really am sorry-”

“It’s fine- definitely worth it.” 

She smiled, “now what?” 

You shrugged, “I don’t know- we’ve wasted almost four years it seems like so theres no point in wasting any more.” 

She gave you a dopey look and figeted with the rings on her fingers.

“Hazel come here.” She followed your instructions obditally and stood in front of you- close enough that you could feel the gentle wind of her breath. 

You placed your hands on her shoulders, not entirely sure the right way to go about this- and maybe this was moving a bit fast and the common sense had gotten knocked out of your head but at this point you were kicking yourself for not making a move over the entrieity of your highschool career. 

Her eyes were open, glued to your lips. 

“Gotta start making up for all that lost time.” you leaned forward, barley brushing your lips together, when you pulled back Hazel stood completely still with her eyes shut tight. You smiled to yourself. “Do you want to..” Hazel keep her eyes shut but nodded. 

You leaned again, this time trying to add in some movement. It was painfully obvious that neither of you really knew what you were doing. Hazel seemed to have a sudden surge in confidence after accidentally (maybe?) bitting your lower lip which drew some type of sound from you. She stepped forward, pushing you aagint the bathroom sink and putting the two of you in a much more intainte position. 

Despite the awkwardness and surprise, it felt nice- or good? Something like that. You stopped anazlying everything and instead focused on the fact that their was a very attractive girl running her hands down your back and letting your shirt cover her finger tips as she explored you. 

The second you started to thank whatever god was a above that it was after school hours so the building was essentially vacant- the door brust open, followed by two very loud “fuck”s. 

Hazel rushed back away from you, her face already blushing a bright pink. 

PJ and Josie stood in the doorway- matching faces of shock painting their features. 

“No fucking way Hazel is getting puss before us.” PJ rolled her eyes. 

“Uh- sorry we just uh- you know- wanted to make sure you were good.” Josie was doing a horrible job hiding her uncomforatbleness as she questioned you with a thumbs up. 

You bit your lip to stop from laughing and gave her a thumbs up back, “Doing great in here. Thanks- but if you wouldn’t mind leaving-”

“Oh yeah! Yeah! For sure- we’ll let you two lovebirds get back to it.” Josie did a half bow before turning and pushing PJ out the door. 

You laughed as hazel just looked mortified, “we’ll continue this later, I think we should get back to the club though- kinda wanna see you lay some bitchs out.” 

She took a deep breath and patted down her shirt, before looking in the mirror and fixing her hair. 

You gave her another thumbs up before the two of you left the bathroom to go back to the gym. 

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

Send me requests please 🙈

#hazel callahan imagine #hazel callahan x reader #bottoms x reader #ruby cruz x reader

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 24

part 1 | part 23 | ao3

cw: alcohol, throwing up, brief reference to canonical character death

"Oh, my god!" Robin barks, nearly throwing herself off-balance again with the force of her laugh. "This is too good, man. You truly cannot escape your babysitting duties."

"Can I help you?" Max seethes.

Help him? Help him? "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" She gestures to the guy she's holding onto, some fluffy-haired kid with a cut-off vest covered in safety pins that Steve sort of vaguely recognizes as one of Eddie's friends. Oh, shit. Is Eddie here finally? Has he seen him?

"Wait, where's Lucas?" Steve asks.

"Who cares?" she bites back.

The guy gives a nervous chuckle and loosens his grip on her waist. "Uh-h. Did you say babysitter?"

"He's not actually, Jesus. I'm fourteen; I don't need a babysitter. And he was just leaving, anyway, right?"

Her glare feels like a slap. Girl's got daggers in her eyes, holy shit. It's like she's hoping some of El's powers magically transferred to her; like she's picturing him flying ten feet into the air and landing with a splat on the far side of the concrete, and he doesn't need this. He did not come out tonight to be bullied by a teenager. "Okay, that's it, I'm taking—"

"—me to the punch bowl!" Robin interrupts, putting her hands on Steve's chest to stop him from grabbing Max and hauling her back to the car.

"Robin, what—?"

"Yep!" She shoves him hard, pushing him to the edge of the dance floor. "Silly me, just dying of thirst, ha ha. Okay, cool, see you both later!"

—

"What the hell was that?" Steve demands when they're safely on the far side of the pavilion.

"An intervention."

Oh, my god. May he never hear the word 'intervention' again in his life.

"Un-ruffle your Mother Hen feathers for two seconds and think, would you? One: it would look really, really, seriously weird for you to be seen dragging a dead jock's kid sister kicking and screaming to your car."

A dead jock’s kid sister. Jesus, tipsy Robin has no tact.

"Two: you said we were going to go out and have fun and get, and I quote, 'very drunk.' Take your babysitter hat off for one night. She's a high schooler, and this is a high school party."

"Yeah, I know," he sulks. Doesn't need the reminder that he's technically past the age limit.

"Okay, so then let her have fun! It's not like you weren't out drinking and smoking by her age."

'I'm always so right about everything. I'm, like, cosmically correct.' Goddammit. Steve needs another drink. "I just don't want her to do anything dumb and get hurt."

"She won't. We can just, like, keep an eye on her from a distance, right? Let her come to us if she needs anything."

"So we should just act like your parents?" Steve snorts.

"My parents are amazing, thank you!"

"Your mom offered me mushroom tea once."

"Like I said: amazing."

Steve huffs a laugh, flips his hair out of his eyes and snags a handful of tortilla chips. "Okay," he says around a crunchy bite, "so what's the third thing?"

"Third thing?" Robin asks. She’s not even looking at him anymore, her eyes eager and distracted as she scans the crowd.

"You're biting your lip weird, there's clearly a third thing."

She turns to him, and the smile springs free from its containment, spreading all over her flushed, ecstatic face. "Vickie just showed up."

—

Steve’s hammered.

Whoops.

Didn’t mean to do it; feels a little bad about it as he tips his head up to the sky and all the stars go raining in bright streaks across his vision. Reminds him of the ceiling at Starcourt, nauseous and spinning under a swirl of bright fluorescence. He hopes Rob’s flirting is going well.

He meant to get politely drunk.

A socially appropriate amount.

But then Robin ran off to flirt with Vickie, and Steve was doing his best to just lay low, steer clear of Max and maybe find a way to casually run into Eddie if he could find him, when he spotted the girl he went on that disaster of a date with instead and realized his options were either: stay there by the beer coolers while she came over with her new date and subjected him to the most painful small talk of his life, or retreat to the dark edges of the party with as much booze as he could carry, so.

He's slumped on top of a picnic bench downwind of the bonfire, bad ear ringing, belly full to bursting, trying to remember when one beer became… more than one beer.

Five?

Six, maybe?

Fuck.

“‘M gonna puke,” he confesses to the splintered wood beneath his feet; to the pine bough overhead, the smoky fire at his back.

“Wow,” someone says, an amused lilt to their tone, and Steve knows that voice, he—

Oh, no.

Ohhhh, no.

Now? Really?

Steve whips his head around, opens his mouth to ask ‘Eddie?’ and barfs all over his shoes.

—

part 25

tag list part 1 below the cut, let me know if you want me to add you tomorrow (21+ only, please confirm your age if you're asking to be tagged)

@a-little-unsteddie @ahsokatanoss @aliea82 @alyelf @anne-bennett-cosplayer @aol19 @awolfstudio @bambibiest @bananahoneycomb @bookbinderbitch @bronwenmarie @cheonsazu @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @courtjestermunson @cuips-not-cute @dauntlessdiva @dawners @dontwasteyourchances @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @eriquin @estrellami-1 @fandomfix8 @gregre369 @griefabyss69 @grtwdsmwhr @hallucinatedjosten @hellion-child @hiimlevi @honoragreyskull @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @kas-eddie-munson @kingelyx @lifeisacrisis @littlebluejane @marvel-ous-m @melonmochi @messrs-weasley @milklechee @mrsjellymunson @mugloversonly @munsonslure @nburkhardt @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notsopersonalcharlie @novelnovella @nuggies4life @phoenixtheone @questionablequeeries @runninriot

#trailer park steve au #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #robin buckley #max mayfield #gareth stranger things #vickie stranger things #my writing #my fic

[miyatcha]

paper cranes | suguru geto

naw...its so lowk quality. oh welll :( | fluff | suguru is a canon manspreader LMFAOO

you catch suguru geto folding paper cranes- and that’s the first time you meet him. he sits in the middle of the bench as if he owns the whole thing, a stack of patterned origami paper with a paperweight on top on the side. 

it’s spring, and against the blooming flowers, you think he’s the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen. 

“you’re taking an awful lot of space on that bench.” your teasing tone snaps him out of his concentrated task, quick to grab the paper and scoot to one side. 

“sorry- bad habit.” he’s sheepish, and instead of manspreading like before, he sits upright, fumbling with the craft in his hands. you laugh at him, taking a seat on the other side. 

“what’s got you folding cranes in a park?” you take in the stranger next to you.

“helps me take my mind off things. and you?” he glances up, and his dark eyes meet your gaze. 

he’s…breathtaking.

the stranger raises an eyebrow, and you realize you haven’t responded. “reading- and maybe some drawing. I don’t know yet.”

you sit down beside him, not really sure how to continue the conversation, but thankfully, there’s nothing between the two of you that makes things awkward. 

“what are you reading?” showing him the cover of the slice of life/romance book you were halfway through, he smiles. “the ending is worth it, don’t worry.” 

“you’ve read it?” 

he nods, placing the crane in his bag. “i might’ve reread it a couple times.” 

your interest in him grows the more you find out about him. “really? i’ve heard it’s a sad ending.” 

he hums, lost in thought. “well, yes, it’s sad- but good. do you think the main characters should stay together?”

you pause for a moment, mulling over his question. while you were a sucker for happy endings, it just wouldn’t make sense with the type of people they were. 

“no. she was going in a different direction than him- even if they were good for each other, they wouldn’t be happy. so does this mean they don’t end up together?” he shrugs, finishing another crane and adding it to his growing pile. “are you making the cranes for anything?” you change the subject. 

i don’t have the cranes for anything specific, no, but they’re pretty, aren’t they?” he holds a finished one in his palm, with meticulous folds at every edge. you nod, and he smiles, satisfied.

"do you know how to make any?"

"it's honestly been so long- i might know a few steps, but that's it."

he pauses, smoothing over the crane's neck. "i'll teach you the next time i see you around." it's his signal to leave, and as he gathers his things, you finish the page of the book you were reading. when you feel the seat shift, you glance up at the stranger, hoping that deep down, something more would happen.

"it was nice to meeting you..." you realize. “i never got your name.”

“suguru geto. you?” the boy smiles, and his eyes crinkle at the edges.

“___ ___.” you wave to him, ready to tell your friends all about the encounter with the pretty stranger.

when he's no longer in sight, you notice a green crane on the seat, and you’re quick to pick it up and search for him, but he’s disappeared. 

you fold down the wings for him, and find something written on the flaps. it’s his number. 

‘call or text :)’

#suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #suguru x yn #suguru x y/n #geto x yn #geto x y/n #geto x you #suguru x you #suguru #suguru geto #geto #geto jjk #jjk #suguru jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #jjk fluff #suguru fluff

[konigbabe]

like real people do

Pairing: ID!Leon Kennedy x fem!teacher!reader | single dad AU

Word count: 5.8k

Tags/warnings: no y/n; fluff; eventual smut; p-in-v; slice of life; gendered female reader; gendered female anatomy; original kid Kennedy character

Summary: He's the sun, and you're the earth, drawn into his orbit; yet, he's your student's father. Handsome. Confident. Alluring. But off limits–at least he should be.

a/n: Inspired by @yeyinde’s ask. Also, canon ID!Leon is around 29 but Leon in this '"universe" is aged up to be in his 30s (age won't be specified but I imagine him to be in his mid-to-late 30s).

divider by @benkeibear [source]

series masterlist • masterlist • navigation • faq • AO3 • ko-fi

The voice in your head keeps telling you to be professional, the thought of spending an evening with this man hard to resist; his confident, easy-going demeanor, the way he doesn’t give up easily– “So? It’s just dinner.”

The innocence of children always manages to brighten up even the darkest of days, their smiles and eagerness to learn contagious; filling your heart with positivity. It's a feeling that's hard to come by as an adult; life's challenges tend to chip away at your soul and slowly rob you of that childhood magic.

As the clock strikes five and your shift comes to an end, the school falls into an eerie silence. A lingering sense of relief washes over you when leaving the building; you've done your part in shaping young minds.

Walking out the front door, the warmth of the sun caresses your skin, its rays sliding around your bare arms like silk.

Twisting the key in the lock, your eyes catch a glimpse of slight movement from the corner of your vision. Turning your head, you see a little girl perched on the concrete steps below, her delicate features illuminated by the warm glow of the sun.

Her hair, a cascade of light brown waves, frames her chubby cheeks and the crown of her head is adorned with blonde highlights that shimmer like golden threads.

She turns to you when you address her, slowly stepping down to her level.

"What are you still doing here," you sit down, her small backpack creating a wall between your bodies.

As you sit side by side with the little girl, basking in the comforting embrace of the sunlight, she kicks her legs up; eyes up front, both of you watch the cars pass by on the street.

The Washington Spring air’s filled with the sweet scent of blooming cherry blossoms, carried on a gentle breeze that rustles through the trees. The distant sounds of children playing in a nearby park mingle with the honking of cars and the chirping of birds, creating a symphony of noise that signifies the arrival of spring in the bustling city.

"Waiting for daddy," she says with a hint of excitement in her voice.

The little girl looks up at you, her eyes full of wonder and innocence. You can't help but wonder about the mysterious Mr Kennedy and his absence; an enigma surrounding his name.

Like a forgotten toy left on the shelf, the girl's father remains absent from any involvement in her education. Despite several months passing since her admission to your class, there has been no sign of him. No parent-teacher meetings, no Father's Day celebration, nothing.

An enigma.

"Speaking of," your voice trails off for a moment, "How’s your daddy doing?" you question her. You shouldn’t; it goes beyond your job description to put a kid in situations like these. But still–

Her eyes, a vivid shade of cerulean, sparkle like sunlit water as she gazes at you; smile wide upon the mention of her father, the young kid toys with the straps on her bag.

"He’s busy."

A pang of understanding pinches your heart.

–his presence (or rather the absurd lack of it) keeps gnawing at your brain.

"He fights monsters," the girl adds after a moment of silence; her tone more serious. It's as if she's describing a mythical hero, fighting off beasts in some far-off land.

"He seems to be busy quite a lot," you smile to ease the topic; well aware that the girl, as bright as she is, surely catches on as you keep asking the same question every week, "is your mom coming to the parent–teacher meeting?"

The girl shakes her head before she speaks, "I don’t know my mom."

Oh.

You know you shouldn’t push more; well aware of the unprofessionalism you’re displaying.

"The woman who picks you up–"

"–aunt Claire," the kid corrects you, "I’m sorry for interrupting, miss teacher."

You smile, trying to put her at ease. It's clear that she's been brought up with good manners.

Lost in how to answer her, you almost don't hear the sound of a car approaching. The girl jumps up, her face alight with excitement. A low rumble reverberates through the air as a sleek black SUV glides up to the curb, its shiny exterior reflecting the warm rays of the sun.

The tinted windows obscure the view inside the car, adding an air of mystery to the vehicle. As the car comes to a stop, the quiet hum of the engine fades to a gentle purr, and the driver's door swings open.

The girl grabs her backpack at the same time a man steps out of the car; you’re able to only see the light brown hair decorating his head.

"Daddy," the girl yelps in excitement. You stand up, dusting the invisible dust from your jeans.

He stands tall, his broad shoulders stretching the fabric of the crisp white shirt, tucked tightly into the blue dress pants. A single button undone on his collar, revealing the curve of his clavicles. The sun glints off his aviator sunglasses, hiding his eyes from view. He approaches the little girl with a warm smile as she runs into her father, you presume; standing still, watching the situation unfold before your eyes.

Lowering himself to her level, he extends his arms, inviting her in. She eagerly accepts, wrapping her little arms around his neck in a welcoming embrace.

"Hey there, pup," you manage to hear his voice; low and soft. Gentle. "Sorry I’m late; got held up by paperwork. Y’know the drill."

The kid chuckles before pulling away, a sound so pure and innocent it brings a smile to your face.

Standing back up, his face turns towards you. You're struck by his imposing presence, the way he commands attention without even trying. His chiseled jawline is dusted with a light stubble, giving him an air of ruggedness. He moves with confidence towards you, one hand enclosed with his daughter’s.

The girl tugs at the sleeve of his shirt, introducing you before he even reaches your standing point–to which he smiles gently.

"Well, nice to meet you," his hand extended in greeting, "I’m Leon Kennedy. Her dad," he nods towards the girl.

"Mr Kennedy," you murmur, taking his hand in yours; noting the callouses on his palm.

As your eyes travel up his arm, they catch sight of a fresh bandage peeking out from under his slightly rolled up sleeve. But it's not until you look up at his face that you see the true extent of his weariness. Small scratches mark his jaw, subtle hues of purple and yellow decorate his cheekbone like a watercolor painting.

It’s clear that he's been through a rough patch. Makes you wander back to the girl’s words–

("He fights monsters.")

–and maybe he does. In some twisted sense.

"I actually wanted to speak with you," you release his hand, feeling the warmth of his skin lingering on your fingertips., "are you free next Tuesday? Around one PM?"

"Am I in trouble," he chuckles; the stretch of his lips exposing a slight scar on his lower lip.

The girl tilts her head, eyes studying you intently. You can't help but notice the slight beauty marks across her neck, the softness of her features, the way she looks up at her father with curiosity.

"Not really; I just need to discuss some matters with you."

"Okay," he responds, a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his lips, yet he remains stoic. Posed. "Sure."

"I’ll see you then," you nod and take your leave, but not before stealing a few glances at his back as he turns away from you. It’s impossible not to notice how his broad shoulders strain against the fabric, or how his hair cascades over his forehead; tousled yet somehow perfectly in place.

The weekend flies by, the days blurring together until suddenly it's Tuesday.

Despite his daughter's reassurances from yesterday that he'll be here, the uncertainty of whether he'll actually show up still grips you tightly.

A knock on the open door disturbs your grading.

"Mr Kennedy," you remark upon his arrival. The pen falls onto the desk with a clunk; back straighten, you invite him to sit on the chair prepared for him beforehand.

He’s dressed more casual–the black, expensive looking leather jacket squeaks against the wooden chair as he sits down after a simple "Hello". The faint but distinct aroma of sharp, citrusy notes wafts from his collar; the refreshing and invigorating aroma that catches your attention before your eyes trail to the bandage on his wrist.

Clearly seeing the way your eyes subconsciously linger on the piece of medical tape, Leon puts his other hand over it, shielding your view. Silently focusing your attention back on his eyes; the same blue hues as his daughter’s.

Sitting before you, legs spread apart, the undeniable similarities between him and his daughter are glaringly apparent. The way he holds himself commands respect, his posture erect and confident.

"Mr Kennedy, there’s something I wanted to discuss with you in person."

Fingers interlocking as you lean on your elbows, his gaze following your every movement like a predator stalking its prey; almost as if he’s sizing you up. His eyes watchful.

"Okay," he responds casually, a hint of question behind the simple word.

You clear your throat before continuing. "Your daughter is a remarkable child," a small smile accompanying your words. "She's well-behaved, intelligent, and often surpasses her peers."

Leon nods, lips pressed together.

"Got that from her mother, probably," he remarks. Almost bites back. Jaw tightening.

Leaning back, your fingers drum a quick rhythm against your desk.

"But we’re not here to evaluate your daughter; but you, actually, Mr Kennedy."

Leon’s brows arch up, highlighting the soft surprise that flashes across his face. The subtle shift in his expression does not go unnoticed by you.

"Didn’t know I was being evaluated," his voice trails off.

You nod in acknowledgement, sensing the man's confusion.

"You’re aware of our school assemblies, right?"

His face remains stoic, so you continue.

"Father's Day, parent-teacher meetings, career days, sports day," you list a few, hoping to spark the idea in the man’s mind.

"So," he leans back against the chair, arms folded on his chest.

With an exhale, upon your failed attempt to make him take the hint, you resolve to explaining the school rules to him.

"Our school mandates that the child’s parent or legal guardian be present at at least three of those assemblies per school year. You haven’t been present on any of them, not even last year."

He lifts his chin slightly and raises his eyebrows, eyes fixed on you with a look that suggests he's waiting for more information or an explanation.

"There’s actually a policy within out school that allows teachers to prohibit the child from participating in certain activities or events if a parent is not present–"

"–you’re kidding," Leon interjects, his tone laced with disbelief.

Raising your hand, you stop him from continuing, "and your daughter is a great student, so I don't expect that to happen to her. But with your continuous absence, she's at risk of being excluded from certain activities."

"My job keeps me busy. And I don’t really have a say in it," Leon retorts.

Arms still folded across his chest, his brows furrow in frustration. Defence sets inside his flesh; jaw slightly twitching, his eyes bore into yours.

"Maybe her mother could–"

"–not an option," he stops you before you manage to finish the sentence.

You nod in understanding. Leaving forward, you hope to appeal to Leon’s sense of responsibility a little more.

"In that case; we’re having a sports day this Friday. If you could just show up to support your daughter, I could mark it as you being present."

Leon chuckles, his voice smooth. Looking out the nearby window, he stares into the field right next to the school for a moment, deep in thought. The sunlight filtering through the window casts a warm glow on his sharp features, highlighting the intensity in his eyes.

Silence passes before he speaks up, "Wouldn't a dinner suffice instead?"

You clear your throat and try to compose yourself, feeling your heartbeat pick up at the unexpected request. "That's not very appropriate, Mr Kennedy, " you say softly, attempting to hide the fluttering in your chest. "Let's see each other at the soccer match."

"Sure. I’ll see what I can do; is that all?" he asks, head turned to the side. You gaze upon the now exposed wound on his jawline, vaguely resembling a cat’s claw scratch. The bruise colors on his cheek faded over the past few days.

"Yes," you assure him.

"Y’know, this whole thing could’ve been an email."

You smile wryly, "Would you react to that email?"

Looking back at you, there’s a flicker of mischievous dancing in his eyes. Leon's gaze holds yours for a moment longer, and you find yourself drawn to the subtle crinkles at the corners of his eyes, evidence of his amusement.

"You got me there."

The sun blankets the field in gold, casting elongated shadows of the children as they scamper around in pursuit of the ball. It’s still quite early. The air’s crisp and fresh, carrying the scent of freshly cut grass and; sound of excited cheers and shouts echo throughout the surrounding area.

It’s comforting. Soothing in a way.

With a group of teachers, you watch the little girl darting across the field, her movements resembling that of a graceful gazelle as she expertly maneuvers the ball. She weaves in and out of the other players, a look of determination etched on her youthful face.

A chorus of her name echoes across the field, drifting like a wispy trail of smoke. The other kids cheer her on as she makes her way towards the goal, her tiny frame seemingly defying the laws of physics with her quick and nimble movements.

A round of applause erupts when the ball meets the back of the net. You watch as the little girl’s teammates rush to congratulate her.

"And who is that," a woman’s voice tears your gaze away from the cheerful moment, hands stopping mid-clasp.

Curious, you look at her. The other teachers already gazing to your right. To the parking lot.

Leaning against the sleek car, its design demanding attention; even from further away, he exudes an air of quiet confidence that's impossible to ignore. Eyes covered by another set of sunglasses, the same leather jacket strains against his folded arms.

Mr Kennedy.

Leon Kennedy.

Something about him always seems to draw attention; to captivate anyone who catches a glimpse of him.

It’s odd. Uncanny–

You should know better than to think in such a way about your student’s father.

–and you wonder if it’s just you who feels that way.

As the group of teachers chatter, a voice pipes up, "Is he someone's father?"

"He has to be," the conversation carries on, "or he wouldn’t be here–"

"–or he’s a creep."

Turning to face the person who said it, you scoff at the teacher before speaking up.

"He’s her dad," You nod in the direction of the girl with a beaming smile on your face, as she energetically waves at Leon. His response, though polite, is less enthusiastic, evident by the restrained movement of his hand.

Escaping the gossip, you follow the white boundary lines of the field towards your target, the soft grass crunching beneath your feet. Leon's eyes are fixed on the field, his sharp features softened by the spring glow.

But he's quick to notice your approach, turning his head ever so slightly to the left. It makes you feel naked as he shamelessly watches you coming closer.

"Mr Kennedy," you greet him.

As you approach, the warm spring breeze ruffles your hair, the sweet scent of blooming flowers mixing with his heady aroma. Posture relaxed, his broad shoulders almost blend with the darkness of the car behind him.

"Just call me Leon."

Eyes back on the field, a tinge of carelessness in his voice, a small tug on his lips. Hesitating momentarily, you put your hands in your pockets.

"I’d rather stick to being professional."

It makes him chuckle; voice rumbling with amusement–

"You’re making me feel old," he teases.

–making your chest tighten. His words brush against your ears like the gentle rustling of leaves on a cool autumn breeze.

The lightness in his tone, the hint of playfulness, stirs something deep within you.

It’s your turn to return the light laugh. The sound mingling with the chirping of birds in the distance.

"It’s good that you’re here. Your daughter seems to appreciate it as well."

Leon's eyes flicker to his daughter, still surrounded by her teammates; a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

"Yeah," he says, the warmth in his voice evident, "she’s been talking about this game for a week."

"She’s really talented in sports."

A cool breeze brushes against your skin as he removes his sunglasses. Eyes reminiscent of the clear waters of a mountain lake–the color seems to deepen and intensify as he looks at you, drawing you in.

"That she got from me," the corners of his mouth curve up into a charming smile. His voice deep and smooth, like a glass of well-aged whiskey. You can sense his confidence, the way he carries himself with ease, and it's hard not to be drawn in.

It's alluring. The way he exudes a sense of self-assurance.

Smiling lightly, hand resting on the cool hood of his car, you both watch the children race each other. Cheers fill the soccer fields.

Even in momentarily silence, it’s comfortable–

"Well, she certainly inherited some good genes, Mr Kennedy."

–there’s no awkward cluster around the two of you. It’s natural.

It draws Leon’s attention back to you. Arms folded, his fingers sneak around his bicep, gripping gently as he shamelessly looks at you. His face a canvas of chiseled features and sharp lines. reminiscent of a Greek statue carved out of marble. A faint scent of musk and cologne lingers around him, blending with the sweet aroma of blooming flowers in the air.

"Just so you know, miss teacher," his voice soft melody that lingers in your mind, "the dinner invitation still stands."

It’s tempting.

The words hang in the air, tantalizingly close.

A whistle cuts through the sounds of the soccer field, interrupting the moment. Leon’s attention briefly flickers towards his daughter, checking as the little girl sprints towards the two of you, before returning to your face.

"And I should remind you, Mr Kennedy, that it’s not very appropriate to ask your daughter’s teacher out."

The voice in your head keeps telling you to be professional, the thought of spending an evening with this man is hard to resist though. His confident, easy-going demeanor, the way he doesn’t give up easily–

"So? It’s just dinner," his tone is almost conspiratorial, as if he's sharing a secret with you.

–it makes you feel alive.

(Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. It’s not strictly forbidden.

Only frown upon. Harshly.)

It's like he's the sun, and you're the earth, drawn into his orbit.

"Daddy," his daughter doesn’t hesitate, jumping straight into her father’s arm; yet Leon isn’t phased at all, hoisting her into his arms, "Did you see my goal?"

"I did, pup," arm sneaking underneath her knees, you notice the bandage gone, "you killed it."

"Miss teacher," the kid addresses you, hand sneaking into her dad’s hair to hold him tightly while looking up at you with bright, curious eyes, "Did you see me? Did you see my goal?"

"Of course," you answer with a warm smile, "you did great. Seems like you got good genes for it."

The little girl beams with pride, hugging her father even tighter. Leon chuckles, the sound low and rich, and nods his head in agreement.

"I’ll see you on Monday then; pleasure seeing you, Mr Kennedy," as you turn to leave, you can't help but feel a twinge of regret.

The low hum of chatter fills the air, punctuated by occasional laughter and the clink of glasses. The dim lighting casts a warm glow over the wooden booths and bar, giving the place a cozy feel. The smell of fried food and beer lingers in the air, adding to the ambiance of the traditional American pub.

From a corner, a live band plays classic rock tunes, and the patrons nod along to the rhythm, singing softly under their breaths. It's a perfect spot to unwind after a long workday, catch up with friends. Or even make new connections.

Your little freedom.

Away from responsibilities. From the stress of daily life.

This is your escape, your sanctuary, where you can let loose and just be yourself.

Coming to the bartender, you order another round for the group you’re with, only to be taken back by a familiar voice saying your name.

Turning to look at the man by your right, the white stripes on his jacket contrast against the dim, warm ambiance of the room. Fingers tapping on the rim of the glass of whiskey, he takes a sip, his gaze fixed on you; the amber liquid catching the light, casting a glow across his features.

"Mr Kennedy," you exhale, almost in disbelief by the sudden situation.

Mind whirling with surprise and curiosity; the bar is chill against your exposed arm as you lean onto it, turning to look at the man by your side.

"Wouldn’t expect a teacher to be in a bar on Friday night," he smirks, the corner of his lips curving up in amusement.

"We’re not as frigid as people have us to be," you replied, feeling a smile tug at the corners of your lips.

Voice like a smoldering flame, waiting to be ignited, he tilts the glass towards you, "Oh, really."

The allure of his presence tangible.

A gravitational pull.

"Well, Mr Kennedy," the words roll off your tongue smoothly, "I suppose we all have our ways of letting loose after a hard week."

He chuckles, the sound deep and throaty; making your pulse quicken, heartbeat pick up. "I couldn't agree more," he says, taking another sip of his drink.

You study him for a moment; taking in the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles, how his hair fal across his forehead in a disheveled yet stylish way. There’s something undeniably attractive about him, something that draws you in against all odds–

–like a moth to a flame.

Life has a funny way of working out.

You should stop.

But ‘should’ doesn’t exist in the moment of impulse. In the realm of desire. Pure, unblistered passion. The temptation to follow desire is too strong–

The world falls away.

–and all thought of 'should' dissipates.

Leon's hands slide around your thighs, gripping the flesh firmly as his body pushes against yours. Pinned to the wall; his lips trail the pulse of your neck. The tip of his tongue leaving wet patches on the heated skin.

The sudden intrusion of reality makes you gasp,"What about—".

It’s Leon’s hand on your breast; squeezing, teasing the clothed flesh through the thin material, thumbing at the erect nipple, that earns him a moan. His daughter’s name spilling over into a sound so soft. Inviting.

Like a hummingbird.

A content hum echoes in his chest; pressed tightly against yours. Feeling the muscles contract beneath you, respond to your movement; to the way your hips press against the growing bulge in his pants.

"—she’s stayin’ at my friend’s," he mumbles against the curve of your collarbones, teeth grazing the firm area.

With a strong grip, your fingers entangle in his hair. The texture soft and silky, like running your hands through fine threads of spun gold.

"Isn’t she young for sleepovers?"

It makes him look at you. Eyes glazed over; hungry. Primal–

He pulls you into an embrace, arm wrapping around your back, his palm cupping your ass. The heat of his body seeps through your clothing, searing your skin with its intensity, his breath ghosting over your lips as he whispers, "I really don’t wanna talk about my kid right now."

It’s a command rather than anything else.

Followed by your clothes.

He has you bare before you make up your mind.

–causing your skin to crawl.

With every touch, every whisper, every breath, he leaves you feeling more exposed, more vulnerable.

Limbs tangled together, lips pressed against each other; there’s no beginning and no end. When one begins, the other follows, like an unbroken circle of passion and desire.

Utter consumption by the fire inside you.

Leon’s hands feel scorching. Each stroke branding your skin.

He splits your apart, fills you to the brim. The head of his cock kisses the innermost parts of you as you stay seated on top of him. Nails scratching the firm muscle of his breastplate; he grips your sides. Digs his fingers into the soft, plump flesh there.

Teeth nip at your chin. Gently nibbles accompanied by your hips circling on top of him.

Cascade of groans, grunts and moans echo throughout Leon’s bedroom; each sound building on the other to create a crescendo of pleasure. The mattress beneath you creaks and strains under your knees.

Lost in the feeling.

His words a salacious melody; sung in a sultry whisper followed by his teeth, nibling at your earlobe; securing your grip on his shoulders feeling the strength of his muscles as he guides your moves.

Up and down. Up and down.

Circle your hips when your pelvis meets his. When your ass touches his thighs; when his fingers dig into the round flesh.

The rhythm builds, the tension mounting with every breath. The ache of desire deep inside, a longing that can only be sated by him. With each movement, you feel closer to the edge, your body aching for release.

Leon whispers encouragement, his voice like a caress against your skin. Head buried in the crook of your neck, your arms tighten around his shoulder. Face buried in the top of his head, the scent of him fills your senses; a heady, intoxicating aroma that envelops you in its warmth.

You breathe him in, savoring the subtle notes of bergamot and spice, the rich undertones of musk and earthiness.

Leon’s name leaves your lips in a soft, breathless moan, a prayer to the god of pleasure.

His lips brush against your collarbone, lingering there for a moment before trailing lower, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Skin erupting in goosebumps as his breath tickles your chest, your body bows like a taut bowstring, a supplication to his touch. Offering yourself up to him completely.

Hands roam over your body, tracing the curves and planes of your skin with reverent fingers. As if he knows just where to touch you.

With a strong pull and push, your back meets the hard mattress. His hands move over you like a painter's brush, each stroke bringing out a new hue of pleasure. Hips grinding against yours.

Pressing your body closer to his, chest to chest, he rocks against you. The intensity of his movements leaves you gasping for air, a low moan escaping your lips as you feel yourself getting closer to the edge. His hands grip your hips tightly, fingers digging into your skin as he continues to rut into you.

Long lost is the slow motion–

Your pelvis meets his in a harsh, demanding thrust.

–now he’s chasing his own high. His own release.

His hand slides to cup your jaw, grip your shoulder, eyes boring into yours; intense and unwavering, as if he’s trying to read your thoughts through the depth of your eyes. Consumed by the heat of you.

Head thrown back, you close your eyes; unable to match the fire in his as he grinds against you; his breaths ragged gasps, the only sound in the room the soft rustling of sheets and the slapping of skin against skin.

Leon knows he won’t last long. Not with the way your mouth remains agape, nails digging into the firm tendons of his biceps; heels digging into the flesh of his ass, pushing him deeper. Demanding him to go harder.

You just look so pretty underneath him.

Fingertips trace the warm flesh of your curves. They move slowly, mapping the supple contours of your body with precision; each touch deliberate, a way of committing the curves of your form to memory.

The sensation is electric, every nerve ending on high alert.

His thumb finds your clit, circling it with teasing precision, a feather-light touch. Pushing your hips into his, he obliges your silent demand – adding a bit more pressure with each pass. The slow, steady rhythm of his touch in bright contrast to the sharp thrusts.

Building the tension inside you, until you feel like you might burst. But he doesn't let up, not yet. He's savoring every moment, enjoying the way you writhe beneath him.

Your breath hitches, body tensing as he works you with an almost clinical precision. The ache between your legs grows, spreading through your entire body. He watches you, gauging your reactions, and adjusts his touch accordingly.

The way he focuses on you, with a singular, unwavering intensity, is both thrilling and terrifying.

As for Leon, every movement, every sound, is calculated. He wants to make this last. He wants to make you lose control.

His muscles tense as he drives into you, each thrust bringing him closer to the edge. His breaths come in short gasps, matching the rhythm of your moans. The heat between you intensifies, a physical force that binds you together.

With one final push, final flick of a thumb, he takes you over the edge, his name on your lips.

Clenching around him, walls fluttering, his thrusts grow slow. Leisurely.

As if he’s tantalizing himself. Savoring the feel before he lets go with a groan; a guttural sound that echoes through the bedroom; body spasming. The two of you entwined in a moment of pure, unadulterated bliss.

There should be some sort of regret.

Standing by the foot of Leon’s bed, still searching for your clothes amid the scattered chaos of the apartment, covered by a random shirt you’ve found on the ground (that’s definitely not the one you’ve come with), you can’t help but be drawn to the sleeping man lying before you.

The sheets barely cover the curve of his lower back, and even in slumber, the muscles of his back remain visible; the outline of his physique remains defined and sharp, even in relaxation. The memory of his back muscles beneath your palms lingers on your skin, as if he were still present with you in that moment.

There’s no regret.

Exiting the bedroom, you walk past the kitchen into the hallway. The emptiness of the space is palpable, with nothing adorning the plain white walls; no family photos or decorations to add personality. Only the essential pieces of furniture remain. The floor creaks beneath your bare feet as you open the door closer to you–

(It’s almost like he doesn’t have anyone.

A sense of desolation creeps in you.)

–and are met with a blinding contrast to the rest of the apartment. Rainbow colored sheets neatly tucked into the small bed, pillows in shape of various animals. Light furniture covered in school supplies; and a photo decorating the nightstand.

You pick it up, immediately recognized the two people. It might be the first time you’re seeing Leon actually smile, wide and bright. Happy; with his daughter tightly wrapped in his arms. Faces pressed together, smiling at the camera.

"I hope you're not trying to steal anything," Leon's voice interrupts your reverie; low and husky, still laced by the morning sleep, "I don't have much, y’know."

As you pivot to face him, you can't resist noticing how his bare feet stand out against his fully-clothed form. Hair tousled and messy, only adding to his rugged appeal.

An irresistible wave of attraction washes over you as you scrutinize his appearance, and his playful tone only adds fuel to the fire.

"Don't worry, I'm not after your prized possessions," you reply with a smirk, feeling emboldened by his proximity.

Leon's eyes twinkle mischievously as he steps closer to you, his warm breath brushing against your cheek. "Well, in that case, what’re you after?"

"I was just looking for a bathroom."

Leon's gaze lingers on you, lips curled up in a half-smile. "The bathroom’s down the hall to the right," he points with a nod of his head.

You nod back, trying to ignore the electric sensation that courses through you at his proximity. "Thanks," you say, stepping past him towards the direction he indicated.

As you walk down the hallway, you can't shake off the feeling of emptiness that you felt earlier. It's clear that Leon lives a minimalist lifestyle, but the lack of personal touches leaves you with a sense of melancholy.

Entering the bathroom, you take a moment to splash water on your face, trying to compose yourself before facing Leon again.

His voice echoes through the small apartment as you make your way towards his voice, entering the kitchen; you're struck by how immaculate it is. Everything’s in its place, and there isn't a single dish out of place. The countertop is spotless, the sink free of any debris, the stainless-steel appliances gleam in the light.

The scent of freshly brewed coffee fills the air with the morning sun streaming through the windows, casting a warm glow over the room.

"I’ll pick her up in an hour," Leon stands in front of the refrigerator, two mugs in one hand, bare feet making a soft thumping sound against the linoleum floor. His hair’s still tousled from sleep, his t-shirt is wrinkled, clinging to his muscles as he holds the phone to his ear.

There’s a certain charm to his disheveled appearance that you find appealing.

Looking at you, he makes no effort to stop the call, instead a playful undertones his voice as he hands you a mug and motions towards the coffee machine, "yeah, just woke up. Had a long night."

Shaking your head at his words; he watches you with a small, amused smile, the corners of his lips twitching upwards.

"See you then. Bye, Claire,” he ends the call, turning his full attention to you.

"Y’know, miss teacher," he pours himself a glass of water, "if you just wanted to skip the whole dinner thing, you should’ve just said."

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #leon s kennedy x y/n #moni writes #resident evil imagine #leon kennedy imagine #leon s kennedy imagine #leon s kennedy fluff #resident evil fluff #leon s kennedy fanfiction #leon kennedy fanfic #resident evil fanfic #smut #leon kennedy smut #fluff #leon kennedy fluff #resident evil leon #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fic #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil #resident evil x reader #resident evil imagines #single dad Leon #leon s kennedy x teacher!reader

[jobean12-blog]

In It for the Long Ride

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader (Biker!Joel AU)

Word Count: 1,656

Summary: Joel is out for the night and when he returns early and wants you to leave work and come home you know something isn't right.

Author's Note: Just because I love him and missed him and this seems like something that could really happen when you're with a biker. PS our sweet little black kitten Ink is here too- she's getting big and just loves Joel of course! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: soft and sweet fluff, little angst sprinkled in here and there, mentions of blood but very light

Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist

“Joel just text me that he’s here.”

You look at your friend Jade with worried eyes.

“What’s wrong? Isn’t he going to come in?” she asks.

“He said he can’t come in. He wants to know if I can leave now.”

“Of course you can babe,” Jade says quickly. “Dan and I will be fine tonight.”

“Are you sure…I don’t know what’s goin…”

“Don’t worry,” Jade assures you. “Just go to him. I’m sure everything is fine.”

You nod with a hard swallow and rush to the back to gather your things, texting Joel as you go that you’ll be right out.

Your legs are slightly shaky as you approach the door, a feeling of dread weighing you down with each step.

At first you don’t see him but then you hear the rev of his engine and your gaze is drawn to his bike. He’s parked across the street with his headlights off.

“Joel?” you question when you reach his bike.

He holds his arms out for you and you rush into them, burying your face in his neck.

“What’s going on?” you mumble into his skin.

“Let’s go home,” he says quietly.

You pull back to look at him and let out a gasp.

“Oh my god, what happened? Are you ok?”

“I’m fine darlin.’ Really I am. Just need a little help gettin’ cleaned up.”

Your eyes instantly well with tears and you lift your finger to gently brush it across his bruised cheek.

“Aw angel, no tears. I promise it’s nothin’.”

“But Joel…you’re bleeding and bruised…”

The tears roll down your cheeks, hot and wet, and his hands cup your face, thumbs sweeping across your skin to wipe them away.

“Are you ok to drive? Should we take the car? Do you need a doctor?”

Your questions come out in a rush and your voice is high pitched with worry.

He shakes his head no and the side of his mouth twitches with a smile.

“No. Just need you.”

You study him, your eyes lingering on his face until you whisper, “ok, let’s go home.”

He takes his helmet from the handlebars and secures it on your head before unzipping his leather jacket and draping it over your shoulders.

“Let’s zip this up. It’s chilly tonight,” he says.

“Shouldn’t I be taking care of you?”

“You always do darlin’.”

He kisses you softly on the side of the mouth and then helps you onto the back of his bike.

The ride home is short, less than ten minutes, but in that time the wind picks up and sky opens up with rain.

As you near the house the headlights from his bike reflect off the growing puddles on the street and you shiver against his back.

He pulls over and kills the engine, holding out his hand for you to hop off. He tucks you protectively under his arm and walks you to the door.

“I hope you didn’t get too wet angel,” he says.

“I’m fine,” you say as you walk in and turn on the light.

You turn to him and fresh tears fill your eyes.

“Let me just get us towels and the first aid kit. Don’t move.”

You rush off to the bathroom just as Ink hops off the ledge of the front window. She meows at Joel and then starts to rub between his legs.

“Hey, you,” he says as he picks up the small black cat.

Her tiny pink nose delicately explores his chin before she reaches up with a paw and softly presses it to his cheek.

“Don’t be worried like your mama. I’m fine,” he tells the cat.

“She knows you’re hurt,” you say when you return and find the two of them standing by the door staring at each other.

You take his free hand and walk him toward the couch.

“You might have to set her down for a minute. I want to get your wet shirt off.”

He puts the cat down on the couch and then grabs the hem of his shirt.

“Wait,” you say quietly. “Let me. Please.”

He drops the material and looks at you with big brown eyes.

“Ok angel. Whatever you want.”

“Lift your arms,” you instruct him as you start to peel his shirt up and off.

Inch by inch his wet skin is revealed, his tattoos along with it and you find yourself inspecting every inch of him for more injuries before gently pressing the towel to his chest. You do nothing to hide your shameless perusal of him and he’s clearly enjoying it, his eyes sparkling and his lips turned up into a boyish smirk.

“Anything else hurt?”

“Nah, but you can keep checkin’ all ya want.”

He winks at you when you look up at him with narrowed eyes.

“Ok sit and tell me what happened.”

He sits with a plop and extends his arm to pet Ink while you start to work off his boots.

“I can do that angel, it’s no…”

When your eyes meet his he clamps his mouth shut, only opening it again to explain that some out of town biker gang had started some trouble with him and the boys. No of the boys were hurt more than some bumps, scrapes and bruises but the other guys weren’t as lucky.

“Thank goodness it wasn’t any worse,” you sigh. “I got so scared when you said you wanted me to come home and all. I figured you would come in and have a drink…”

“I know darlin.’ I’m sorry I scared you. I knew I couldn’t go in the bar lookin’ like this though.”

“It’s ok. Just promise me you’ll always be careful.”

“Always,” he whispers.

After you have his boots off and dry socks on you stand and straddle his lap, settling your knees on either side of his waist and taking a smaller towel to run through his hair.

You then comb your fingers through the wet strands and give it a slicked back style. He raises a brow when you smirk and drag your teeth over your bottom lip.

“What?” he asks.

“Looks really good.”

“Yeah angel? Even with the blood?”

“Somehow it makes it even hotter…but I’m still so upset you’re hurt.”

“I’m ok.”

“You keep saying that.”

“But I am darlin.’ Honestly, couldn’t be better at the moment.”

His hands slide along your thighs and then settle on your waist. He pulls you closer and runs his nose along the column of you neck to breathe you in.

“Don’t you dare,” you gasp. “I have to patch you up first.”

“Mm hm,” he murmurs as his lips press to your skin and his fingers dance higher.

You flatten your palms on his chest and give him a light shove, giggling when he looks at you with pouty lips.

After a soft kiss you get the first aid kit and start to clean the cut above his eye and the one on his lip. When you press the antiseptic to the wound he winces, leaving his eyes closed as you continue to carefully wipe each spot.

You inspect every area of his face, especially focusing on the skin beneath his beard, lovingly caressing the gray spots as you go. He relaxes into your touch and you let your fingers gently trace his features.

“All clean,” you whisper.

You hand him the small ice pack you got from the freezer. “Hold this on your cheek.”

“But my hands are busy,” he sighs.

His hands graze the skin beneath your shirt, calloused thumbs caressing the softness before they inch higher.

“You only need one hand for this,” you lightly chide.

His eyes pop open and he gives you a stern look. “Fine.”

You bat your lashes at him and wait until he has the ice pack pressed to his cheek.

“Just until I finish up.”

You put medicine on the cut above his eye and one butterfly stitch then clean up the dried blood on his knuckles.

“You must have gotten a pretty good punch in.”

You can see his muscles tense when you press the pad to his bruised knuckles.

“You bet I did angel,” he boasts. “And that’d be plural…punches.”

When you meet his eyes he winks again and throws you a smug grin.

You kiss it right off his lips then smudge some medicine on his knuckles. He immediately puts down the ice pack and places his hands back on your body.

“That could probably stay on a bit longer,” you tsk.

“Later,” he murmurs.

Ink walks along the back of the couch and sits herself down right behind Joel. She blinks at you several times then starts to swat at the curls of hair at the back of his neck.

“She likes them almost as much as I do,” you tease.

“She’s just wantin’ attention,” he grumbles. “Gets that from you too.”

You shoot him an incredulous glare and then give him one more once over.

“Think I did a pretty good job,” you state.

“I feel brand new,” he says as he drags you closer and smooths his hands along the curve of your back.

When your lips meet you’re mindful of his cut but he doesn’t seem to care at all and dances one hand higher until he grabs the back of your neck and kisses you harder.

He moans into your mouth and tugs at the hem of your shirt. Your hands delve into his damp hair and then slide down to his shoulders. His bare skin is warm and when you feel the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingers you ease away and battle with the reminder of what happened, your eyes glassy.

His large hand cradles your cheek and he smooths his nose along your jaw, bringing his lips to your ear.

“Darlin’,” he coos. “It’s all right. I’m fine…let me prove it to you.”  

@hiddles-rose @lorilane33 @littleseasiren @blackwidownat2814 @kmc1989

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #biker!joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #biker!joel x reader #biker!joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #pedro pascal #joel miller imagine #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller x female reader #biker au

[drvscarlett]

About You Pt5

Sebastian Vettel x Webber!Reader

Summary: Everyone knows about the history of Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber. But there's a well kept story within the paddock about Sebastian Vettel and another Webber. This is that story.

About You Series 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

A/N: and its a double update!!! im showcasing a lot of side characters that will eventually be a huuuuge part of the plot (winks). also the brewing tension. let me know what you folks think about this

Taglist: @spideybv28 @randomcuboidshape @mehrmonga @casperlikej @cliosunshine @honethatty12 @randomgirlnumber-13 @sugyomama @ririyulife @skywalker1dream @vicurious28 @cristianovettel @callsignwidow @gothicwidowsworld

2010, Istanbul Park

The necklace sits heavy on Y/N's neck. She had been fiddling with it the whole morning. There was something about the internal and unspoken pressure happening in the Red Bull garage ever since both of their drivers tied their points for the championship. She have heard more conversations here and there about who would Red Bull side with, their older driver or the rookie.

It was very stressful for Y/N to spend time with the two drivers involved with the discussions.

"Nervous?" Sebastian noticed.

"Can't help it" she gave a weak smile.

"For me or for Mark?"

Y/N had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. As if she hasn't had enough of this whole which driver would you pick to side on. She just gestured that her lips are sealed meaning that she won't take anyone's side.

"Stop trying to get my sister on your side" Mark apparently overheard the conversation "Blood runs thicker than water, am i right sis?"

"I'm not gonna comment on that"

"See what you are doing to my sister, you are ruining this family Seb" Mark overdramatically reacts

"Your sister is my bestfriend, get over it" Sebastian rebutted.

Bestfriend.

And just like that, there was a pang in Y/N's heart. Maybe another factor of the heavy feeling is that she has been doing her best to bury her feelings for Sebastian. But after the whole Monaco pre-birthday thing, every effort that she has to bury her feelings is thrown out of the window. She was hopelessly inlove with the man and Sebastian was very blind about it.

"Just have a good race, okay?"she reminded the two.

"I think we will score some good points today" Sebastian confidently stated.

"That's the fighting spirit" Mark cheered on.

It was moments like this that Y/N was reminded that the two Red Bull drivers are not fighting each other as the team pictured them to be. They may showcase competitiveness during the races but that's just normal. Outside the track, the two share a very friendly atmosphere with each other.

Soon, the two set off to go their respective cars. Y/N watched the race outside of the driver's room for a change. Ever since, she started to hear the gossiping of the Red Bull crew about Seb and Mark, she opted to be more around them. She wanted to know what they are saying to warn the drivers or make a possible plan on how to resolve if ever the situation escalates.

The race started out well with Mark leading comfortably. Sebastian was behind and Lewis was next. It was going really well for Mark and if Y/N have to say it then he might win another race. Sebastian, on the other hand, has been challenged by the two McLarens of Hamilton and Button.

Then it happened all so quickly.

Y/N let out a gasp as the two Red Bull drivers crashed with each other. One was sent down to the gravel while the other managed to push back to the track. Y/N was too focused that she didn't notice that the cameras were pointed at her.

'Y/N Webber

Mark Webber's sister and assistant, Sebastian Vettel's bestfriend.'

The whole garage was in shambles as the radio messages from Sebastian sounds really angry. The amount of swear words in the radio was a stark difference from the jolly Sebastian that she was speaking to a couple of minutes ago. Y/N looked worriedly as Sebastian goes to the stewards.

"It was Vettel's fault"

"No, Mark Webber wasn't looking and giving him space"

"That's stupid, it was clearly Sebastian Vettel's fault"

Watching the replays, Y/N hates to admit it but this one is on Sebastian. She could hear the discussion even becoming more rampant as Sebastian reaches the garage.

A permanent scowl graces his face as he talks to Helmut and Christian about the incident that occurred. Y/N followed to check up on him and she can't help but overhear the conversation.

"That was not right, this shouldn't have happened" Christian lectures "It will cost us a lot of points with the two McLaren looking for two podium finish today"

"Don't look and point fingers at me, I'm not the only one who crashed" Sebastian clearly not thinking his words through.

"Sebastian this should never happen again, understood?" Christian firmly ordered

"But it isn't right to blame Sebastian, the boy is right there were two of them there" Helmut comes to the defense of Sebastian "It was clear that Mark did not make way for him resulting to the crash"

Y/N felt herself getting red. It was clear as a day that the crash was not caused by Mark. It was getting clearer for her that someone has been playing favorites.

"See, you better have word with Mark" Sebastian said.

"Unbelievable" Y/N muttered.

She was taught that if she couldn't say anything good then she probably shouldn't say anything at all so she walks away. She decided not to show herself even after Mark got a podium finish.

Her sudden disappearance did not go unnoticed but Sebastian just let her be.

2010, Silverstone Circuit

Things at Red Bull garage has gone from bad to worse. It was difficult now to hang out with Mark or Sebastian as the two drivers have intended everything to be a competition. Y/N didn't want to see any part of this which is why she is currently doing babysitting duties at Mercedes.

It was a weird set-up seeing how one of Red Bull's employee is staying at the pristine white facility of Mercedes—she sticks out like a sore thumb. But Mick Schumacher only wants Y/N to be with him as he watches his father race. It has always been that case ever since Y/N met Mick when he was around 4 years old.

"Y/N, are you not scared for your brother and Seb?" Mick asked as the two of you watched the cars go out for the formation lap.

"I used to be scared" she still is "But its something that they love"

"Mama says Papa gives her a lot of stress when he races. I hope there is no aksident"Mick's tone was with a slight worry.

"Your Papa will be okay, he is a legend"Y/N assures.

The cars are now slowly lining up to the starting grid. Sebastian was on pole while Mark was the 2nd one so they were sharing a Red Bull front row. It only made Y/N worry even more because race starts are quite chaotic here in Silverstone.

"Mark and Seb must be really lucky to be at the front"Mick commented

"I sure hope so"

The lights started flashing and the infamous lights out and away we go went off. It was indeed chaotic at the start with Sebastian and Mark neck to neck with each other. They were both trying to take the lead even if it means pushing the other off track.

"OH FUCK" Y/N immediately covered the ears of Mick as the collision was broadcasted.

Mark managed to go through but Sebastian had puncture. The German was obviously mad for losing crucial places.

"What happened Y/N to Mark and Seb, I thought they are teammates" was the confused question of Mick.

She sighs. Her thoughts are echoing what Mick just said. What happened to them.

"Mick,they are still teammates its just that they also have to compete with each other. Its a sports and sometimes we lose,sometimes we win"Y/N tried to explain it to 10-year-old Mick.

She could already imagine the chaos in the Red Bull garage. She hears the commentaries that maybe this was Webber's revenge for Istanbul. The headache that will emerge for her after this whole race will be very difficult to ignore.

"Y/N if I become an f1 driver,would you come see me?"Mick asked

Its like heaven sent an angel in the form of Mick for Y/N. When she hears him talk it feels as if the world is slightly a little simpler and better. How she wish she lives in that same bubble as Mick.

"I won't crash, I promise"Mick added

Young Mick is still very young but he really dreams to be a Formula 1 driver like his father. Y/N could feel grey hairs developing if she sees Mick in an F1 car.

"Of course Mick"

"Good"Mick grinned "Oh look Y/N your brother is leading! Go Mark Webbahhhhhh"

The cheers of the little Schumacher made Y/N grin. She will deal with all the Red Bull stress later.

2010, Hockenheimring

Usually, Y/N likes getting her coffee at the catering but she doesn't feel like interacting with any Red Bull team for this morning. This is why the Webber girl is seen queuing up in a local Starbucks.

She was just about to sit down and wait for her coffee when a random man bumped her. It sent all her paper flying and Y/N could only grumble since the man didn't even look at her to help.

"Some people these days lack manners"she huffed in frustration.

It was a good thing that someone was helping her picking up the paper. She looked at the bracelets adorning her wrist and the long blonde hair tied up into a bun, thank God for a woman.

"Thank you so much for helping me" Y/N started "You really didn't have to"

"Nonsense, it will be rude to just stare at you picking up your papers"the woman has a thick German accent, similar to Sebastian.

She is probably local, Y/N thinks.

"Still thank you" Y/N politely insisted "Do you want to sit with me, the whole cafe is full"

"Of course"

Y/N wasn't usually chatty but the woman is very comfortable to talk to. She mentioned that she was a local but she lives a bit far from here and that she was only here for the weekend. Y/N shared how she is also here for the weekend.

"Wait are you going to watch Formula 1?" she quizzed

Y/N was about to answer when she heard the call of the barista. he quickly picked up her coffee and went back to her new friend.

"No way, you are Y/N?THE Y/N Webber?" the girl repeated.

Y/N chuckled. It wasn't usual that she has been recognized by formula 1 fans. She felt red as she admits that she is a bit flattered that she knows her name.

"I didn't know I am famous around here"Y/N joked

"Sebastian always talks about you, I was really looking forward to see you later at the garage"

Oh? Y/N thinks there is only one Sebastian that she knows.

"My name is Hanna, Hanna Prater" she introduced "I'm Sebastian's childhood bestfriend"

2010, Circuit de Spa-Francorchamps

Sebastian was bitter. He felt as if he lost a golden opportunity by not being able to score any points today. He is so bitter that he choose not to celebrate with the team tonight and he intended to stay holed up in his hotel room.

However, after a while,he grew tired of the hotel room walls so he ended up walking at the rooftop of the hotel.

Only,he wasn't the only one there.

"Hey stranger" he called out "I haven't seen you in Red Bull garage for a while"

Y/N turned around and she smiled when she met his eyes.

He doesn't understand how she does it but everything seems to melt in the background when she does this. It felt like he was back in his rookie days when they met up at the rooftops and talk for hours. It was much more simpler back then.

"I have been busy.. socializing" Y/N replied.

They both know that was a lie. Y/N was obviously using socializing as a front when in truth is she doesn't like to mingle with the toxicness of the Red Bull garage. But, Sebastian lets it slide.

"Is it bad that I missed you and I want you to stay at the garage?"Sebastian popped the question out of the blue.

"I'll be there as Mark's sister and his assistant, I don't think it will work well with the situation" Y/N informed.

There it goes again. This was that line that Sebastian has been hindering him to confess or ask her out.

It felt so stupid that he can flirt with anyone with ease but when it comes to Y/N, its so hard.He shouldn't have been scared of Mark, he is never scared of Mark (and it shows multiple times on track). But the thing that Sebastian knows is that Y/N has high regards for her brother and Sebastian didn't want to put a strain in their family.

"How are you feeling with the race today?"Y/N asked, diverting the topic.

"I could have been better." Sebastian sighs "Maybe I should train over and over again"

"Don't push yourself, you are still in the pool for the championship" Y/N assures

The championship. It's everything that Sebastian has ever thought of lately. Its within his reach and he really wants to extend a lead with it but somehow its not working. He really thinks that there is a high possibility that he can get his first championship this year.

"The championship must feel really nice" Y/N comments as she observes the smile on Sebastian's face

"I mean that's why were all racing dangerously" Sebastian chuckles.

No sane man would want to race in harsh conditions or beyond normal speed limit without any incentives.

"Just don't lose yourself"Y/N said "I worry about you Seb"

He acknowledges that. He is not dumb that the Red Bull crew has been pitting him and Webber against each other. In the end, it places a pressure on both of them to perform well because all that Red Bull cares about is who will bring the victory. The more likely victor will be the more favored one.

"We'll be alright" Sebastian comforts.

Even if this is all a lie, the two finds that comfort and repeat it to themselves. Maybe if they repeat it a lot then maybe it will end up coming true.

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel imagines #f1 fic #f1 angst #f1 x you #sebastian vettel x you

[daceydeath]

Oblivious

Pairing: Seungmin x reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Genre: Friends to Lovers

Warnings: Swearing, Suggestive Content

For my beloved @krishastumblernow who has never stopped supporting me xx

Watching as Seungmin made his way across the park baseball cap pulled down and walking like his normal happy puppy self, you couldn't help but smile. You had been close friends for years and despite the fact that you could always spot him from his height it was his walk that always gave him away. As he reached the spot you always met at he finally looked up and saw you, a bright smile crossing his face.

"Have you been waiting long?" he flopped down on the bench beside you giving you a haphazard side hug.

"Not really maybe five minutes" you smiled back taking in his face, you knew the crush you had always harbored on him was one sided but at moments like these where he was so close to you you couldn't help but admire his beautiful features.

"Did you want to grab some coffee then? I know a cool café nearby that does those character coffees you like" he suggested nudging you with his shoulder playfully making you laugh softly before you stood up letting him guide you in the right direction.

"I'm glad you had time to hang out Seung, it's been almost a month" you sighed feeling happy with the sun on your face and him at your side.

"I know, I've missed you too" he laughed as your eyes widened ready to start bickering with him "it does suck getting stuck without any of the outside world for so long".

"Oh yeah I don't know how you guys all do it, I could never spend that much time travelling and only seeing the insides of hotel rooms, venues and planes" you nodded knowing that although his life looked glamorous it usually wasn't.

"What have you been up to, I know we text all the time but anything going on? Met anyone yet?" he teased his fingers brushing yours as you walked beside him.

"Sorry to disappoint you Seung but I haven't met anyone to take me off your hands yet" you rolled your eyes making him grin at his own joke.

"I thought you had a date last week though?" he stopped fishing his phone from his pocket to go through your chat to make sure he had read them properly.

"I did but it didn't work out" you shrugged as he frowned slightly and started walking again.

"Do you want to talk about it? He wasn't mean to you was he?" Seungmin asked, still not looking totally happy.

"It's nothing too bad he just said that he thought we would be better as friends" you explained, sighing as he started looking skeptical "I'm pretty sure there is something that makes me best friend material not girlfriend material".

"Yeah that is bullshit and you know it" he said firmly just before you stepped into the café. He guided you through the tables to one that sat at the back of the room so he was less likely to be recognized or photographed. "I'll go order and then we are going to talk about all the ways he was wrong".

You watched him approach the counter and order for the both of you pointedly ignoring the look the pretty girl behind the counter gave him, even though you could fully understand her, it was hard to not gawk at how handsome he was. He smiled politely, paid and then retreated quickly back to you with a faint blush across his cheeks that you meant one of two things, she had asked for his number or she had tried to give him her number, he was bad at both scenarios.

"Was it your number or hers?" you snickered watching him sit quickly in his flustered state.

"Hers, and stop laughing" he sulked, screwing up his nose at you.

"You really should be used to this by now Seung, you are going to be gorgeous forever you know" you giggled as he tried to not blush further.

"Yeah well you should stop going on dates with idiots who don't know how lucky they are to be sitting across a table from you" he snipped back trying to distract you from what you had just witnessed.

"What does that even mean, Seung?" you raised your eyebrows at him expectantly as the girl from the counter came to place your drinks and a large piece of cake between you making you smile.

"You always go on dates with idiots who can't see how amazing you are, it's not hard to see how smart, funny or beautiful you are so they all must be morons or too self absorbed to notice" he explained casually waiving his fork before he stuck it into the cake to take a bite.

"You think I'm beautiful?" you whispered as your heart beat harder in your chest thinking that he thought that about you.

"Well yeah you're the most beautiful girl I know" he smiled through a mouthful of cake as your eyes widened at him making him get shy and look back down at his drink. "I thought you would like the Totoro one and I got the puppy one".

"They are really cute" you agreed, swallowing the feeling of nervous happiness back down as you picked up the fork he had gotten for you to share the cake with him, a simple gesture that you were used to that now felt more intimate than it should.

"Most of the guys are out tonight. Did you want to come over to the dorm and watch a movie?" he asked, suddenly making you cough a little on your cake. Taking a sip of your coffee trying to not destroy the art on top you swallowed down the murderous offering while he silently laughed at you.

"Sure, are you going to try to kill me with food there too?" you tried glaring but your eyes were watering which only made him laugh harder and cut through the tension that had been between you.

"I can see it now Stray Kids Kim Seungmin arrested for murdering a friend with cake crumbs!" he joked, still laughing.

"Reports say friend's last words were stop laughing and help me you dick" you grumbled back as you finished your coffee.

"But really you don't have to come over if you're busy" he added softly.

"I'm never too busy to hang out with you Seung" you smiled triumphantly, stabbing the last mouthful of cake and stealing it out from under him while he pouted.

"Come on then we'll head back now and order in for dinner" he rolled his eyes at your theatrics and helped you put your coat back on before following you out of the cafe and into the street.

"Sure Seung, did you have a movie in mind?" you chuckled while he brushed his hand against yours again as you got back to the park.

"Well we could either binge a new series or I was thinking maybe the new Marvel movie" he shrugged easily as he continued to walk at your side despite the fact that you always walked slower than him.

"I don't mind either, should we decide when we get dinner?" you mused as you approached the van that had dropped him off to see you. He helped you in before shutting the door behind him and letting the staff know you were wanting to head back to the dorm.

"What's so important that you actually manage to get the dorm to yourself?" you pondered looking to him for an answer as the van started moving, pulling into traffic and driving you towards the dorm.

"Minho and Felix are doing some kind of dance practice tonight and Innie is out with Hyunjin" he shrugged casually. "Any preference for dinner? or I will just order fried chicken".

"Chicken is fine but can we also get some dessert?" you grinned, turning back to look out the window of the moving van.

"Sure" he answered and you could hear the smile in his voice making you feel warm. It had been a month since you had seen him now in one day you were going to get to spend hours with him which was more than you would ever normally dare to ask from him, he was busy with his work as an idol and you knew at some point he would also find someone that he would want to date which would probably take up the rest of his free time, so you knew each time you saw him you needed to be grateful for the time you were getting because it probably would be finite.

"You are thinking way too loudly, are you still thinking about the idiot from last week?" he questioned as he frowned his brows knitting together lightly once again.

"No just thinking I'm lucky to steal this much of your time" you blinked shyly as his face changed to surprise then pleased while yours must have been pink dusted the tips of your ears.

"I'm the lucky one" he countered, clearing his throat "not many friends are willing to wait around for weeks to just hang out". He shifted in his seat slightly as the van pulled into the underground garage that the apartment building his dorm was in. The dim light made it hard for you to see properly for a moment while the van parked and Seungmin opened the door for you to follow him out.

His apartment was chaotic as always four grown men living together had made for interesting decor. It was part bachelor pad, part family home with random plushie pillows littering the couch and game controllers on the coffee table as well as jackets handing off nearly every chair but it was spotlessly clean and comfortably lived in. Putting your shoes away in the entryway you followed Seung into the lounge area plopping down on the couch as he continued to the kitchen.

"Did you want something to drink?" he asked while he stuck his own head in the fridge to find something for himself. "We have water, juice or beer".

"Beer please" you playfully answered throwing him an exaggerated wink when he looked over the fridge door at you. Grabbing two beers he opened them and walked over to the couch to sit next to you handing you a controller before smirking.

"Play until we order dinner?" he smirked knowing you would agree but would end up getting huffy at him for losing every round you played against him. You just nodded knowing Seungmin was trying to wind you up, you enjoyed playing video games but you were far from being any good at them, at least far from being as good as he was. It would end in a playful fight while you waited for dinner to arrive that would all be forgotten by the time you started the movie and ate until you were full and sleepy cuddled up next to him. Well that's how it used to go before he got as successful as he was now, before the fame and demand had him working almost every day, tonight turned out to be no different.

"Just order dinner Seung" you whined, flopping back against the back of the couch and hugging a cat pillow to your chest as he laughed at you.

"You are still so bad at losing" he laughed harder when you pouted and looked at the floor "but I'll order".

You grabbed the remote and flicked over to Netflix hoping you could at least find something to watch that the pair of you could agree on, scrolling through the recommendations you found a drama that you were wanting to watch.

"Have you watched this one?" You asked hopefully looking over at him to find his eyes already on you.

"Not yet, did you want to start that tonight?" He smiled lopsidedly as you grinned back selecting the first episode to start playing. You knew that Seungmin, Hyunjin and Han all watched dramas not necessarily together but they recommended them between themselves so it wasn't strange for Seung to get caught up in one. As the first episode played you watched the two lead characters fumble about in their storylines making cute mistakes or embarrassing themselves as you sipped the rest of your beer. Letting the second one start you were interrupted by the food delivery, by the third episode you were onto your second beer and righting all the wrongs in the characters lives while you sat sprawled out against each other.

"Come on that was obvious" you huffed, the female character intentionally acting cute for the male character.

"He's obviously distracted" Seungmin agreed, taking another mouthful of his drink. "She on the other hand is easily the most oblivious person ever, he's been flirting with her all episode and she just doesn't get it".

"His flirting is so clumsy she is never going to take it as actual flirting she just thinks he's being sweet or teasing her" you argued laughing as Seung pouted ridiculously

"How is it teasing? Plus if she doesn't confess her feelings he will end up with someone else" Seungmin shrugged watching the screen. Six episodes in and the characters were finally getting their shit together and the guy was about to do his dramatic confession in the rain scene.

"So romantic" you gushed, wide eyes on the screen.

"So cliche" Seungmin groaned next to you making you roll your eyes "I mean what girl wants a dripping wet guy traipsing through her house dripping water everywhere?".

"It's not how he confesses it's what he says when he confesses" you laughed turning to look at Seungmin. "They could be eating dinner in their pajamas and it would still be romantic" you finished turning back to the screen, not noticing the look on Seungmin's face, to find them kissing passionately in her apartment. The scene made you squirm a little, your face heating up as you watched them slowly undress each other.

"Are you ok?" Seungmin interrupted, his eyes still on you "You have gone all red".

"I'm fine" you brushed him off your voice a little bit too high pitched to be considered normal. "It's because of the beer" you covered hoping he wouldn't press you further.

"When was the last time someone kissed you like that?" Seungmin pressed, tilting his head at you and leaning in closer his eyes looking darker suddenly.

"No one has ever kissed me like that" you swallowed, your mouth suddenly dry unable to turn away from him and back to the screen. You could hear him pause the episode but couldn't tear your eyes away from him to check.

"No one?" Seungmin repeated, softly the distance between you getting even smaller.

"No one" you breathed. He closed the gap between you a little more, his breath now fanning across your cheeks and his eyes still gazing deeply into yours. Smiling softly he lifted his hand placing a knuckle under your chin to raise it, his eyes flicked down to your lips quickly, your breath hitched as he chastely pressed his lips to yours testing what you wanted him to do. You kissed him back softly, giving him all the permission he needed to kiss you more passionately, his lips soft and plush against yours.

Pulling you into his lap you tangled your fingers in his hair to hold him as close as you could. He ran his tongue along the seam of your lips seeking entry making you gasp, which he took full advantage of sliding his tongue against yours and taking the lead as your need for him became more evident. Eventually breaking away from your mouth for air he kissed his way along your jaw and down to your neck smiling as your breathing turned sped up.

"Seungmin" you mumbled fire burning under the skin his lips touched making you feel light headed.

"What if it's actions, my love" he murmured into your skin "instead of words".

Seungmin pulled your body flush against his, his hands sliding down your sides until they reached the back of your thighs which he squeezed gently before grasping firmly and standing up which made you wrap your legs around him instinctively. He smirked seductively before pressing his lips to yours again and walking you to his room kicking the door shut behind you with his foot. The drama and leftover food now forgotten in the lounge for the rest of the night.

A/N: Thank you for reading, your kind comments, reblogs and likes, give me so much happiness xx

Taglist (open): @christopher-bangnaldoskzz, @armystay89, @damnyouficc, @roamingpolar, @tara-skyhold, @bakedlilgoonie , @krishastumblernow , @mrsseals16 , @fawnpeaks , @leeknowinggg , @uno7, @tanzen-ist-gold

#Kim Seungmin x reader #seungmin x reader #stray kids seungmin #stray kids #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #skz fanfic #skz scenarios #stray kids fanfic #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fic #skz fic #friends to lovers

[doukeshi-kun]

omg i just had an idea…..nikolai tokyo drift street racer….he’s tatted and wears pressed on shirts….oh mygod..

𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙚𝙩 𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙚𝙧!𝙣𝙞𝙠𝙤𝙡𝙖𝙞 + 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚

replies ✥ *gasp* new character unlocked??? hello street racer!nikolai muehehehe

content ✥ fem!reader, petnames

You were left alone by the bar. Your friend has been gone for about an hour now, spending her time with her partner who is one of the racers here. You are self-conscious of the environment of this street racing gang and you have found solace in staying just by the bar.

The noise of cars, the screeching of tyres and road, the cheers and curses from the people, sexy ladies standing by expensive cars—Oh, this place is so not for your introverted self. You wish you could go home but you have no exact idea how to get back without your friend's guidance.

You sigh once again as you watch the race of three cars that are happening right now. The cars are so fast—like a bullet. But you do not find it fun to just wait until a car is approaching the same checkpoint.

“Hey, pretty.”

You hear someone say, but you don't turn around since you thought the call was not for you. Until the person pokes your shoulder multiple times, causing you to turn quickly.

And you see a smiling man standing right beside you—his smile is adorable and innocent, and yet his appearance is rough. He has his white hair tied into a small bun, wears a compressed black shirt with matching pants and his arms are covered in abstract tattoos.

Beautiful man.

“Hello, pretty.” He says again, propping his hand on the bar table, looking at you. You feel heat rushes to your face and your stomach is twisting. He is standing so close—close enough that his cologne is practically ingrained in your head now.

“H-Hi...”

“You alone?”

“Obviously.” You reply almost too quickly, your tone sounds sarcastic. And you are quick to correct yourself upon seeing his amused face. “I-I mean, I wasn't alone. I had my friend and she's... gone somewhere.”

He grins. “You look new. Is it your first time coming here?” You nod slowly, eyes scanning his face—he is indeed a pretty man. His skin is flawless, though there is a scar slit down his left eye. He smiles at you and offers his hand. “My name is Nikolai. You are?”

You look at his hand—rings and silver bracelets. You reach it and your heart makes a small jump upon feeling his touch. You mutter your name and Nikolai hums pleasedly.

“Nice to meet you, love. Now, I'm cutting to the chase here. I think you're really cute.” He says, not bothering to hide his flirtatious manner. He clasps your hand with both of his and says excitedly, “Since your friend isn't around, she doesn't mind if I steal you for a moment, right? Oh—Oops, silly me. I should've asked you if you're already someone else's. So do you have any partners or something?”

He talks so smoothly—but a little rambling. Something about his tone reminds you of a jester. Lively and witty. Humorous and theatrics. It is a complete contrast to his looks.

“No, I don't see anyone at the moment...”

He giggles. “Well, isn't that perfect?” He releases your hand, nudging his head to the parking area that has a fleet of racing cars. “Would you like to come with me? I can show you around. Besides, isn't it boring to just sit here and drink your third glass of cocktail?”

“Well... you are right, but—”

“Come on, baby. I'll show you fun. You gotta have some fun if you came here after all those troubles.” He tries to convince you again. You are unsure. You do feel bored, yes. And now that you have a company, it's not a problem to have fun a little, right? Your friend is gone and this man is being all buddy-buddy.

“I guess I could...”

Nikolai smirks as he gestures for you to follow him. You do, trailing him by his side. He asks you a couple of casual questions. Though you are getting comfortable with him, you cannot help but notice curious eyes from passersby.

Is he well-known here? Why do they look at me like that? Or am I kissing my own ass?

Timid by the unwanted attention, especially when you are finally entering the proximity of other racers, you cling your hand to Nikolai's tattooed arm, scooting closer.

“Ah, don't you worry baby. These people not gonna eat you.” He says. “No one's gonna bother you. If they do, I'm gonna shoot them.”

“What— That's not funny..!”

“Oops, my bad, darl'.” Nikolai grins, guiltless. He stops by a dark red racing car with black and white patterns around it. You scan the car, noticing a common occurrence of a theme here. This car must be expensive when you see the logo on it.

“You’re pretty rich.” You say when you touch the patterns. They feel like stickers and surprisingly, you see it is almost peeled off. Nikolai taps the car proudly.

“Uh-huh. Expensive car, cheap stickers. Don't get me wrong, I just love to dress her up frequently. Cheap stickers are easy to take off.” He explains. “Let's get inside. I decorated the interior more.” He opens the door, inviting you to get in. You follow him, getting into the passenger seat, and indeed, the interior of his car is much more flamboyant.

There are small decoration pieces of jester masks, the dashboard is covered with black and white stripes-printed fabric, and a few red pompoms are hanging on the rearview mirror. The backseat is covered with white fabric with black diamonds printed on them. There are two small cushions on the seat too.

“Phew, okay.” Nikolai enters the car after he is done talking with other racers briefly. He closes the door and starts the engine, turning on the AC and radio. You lean forward, looking outside. Colourful racing cars all around.

Suddenly the car is moving out from the parking lot. You turn to Nikolai. Your eyes cannot stop staring at his tattooed arms, trailing down to his body. You almost forgot what you wanted to say to him, distracted by his physique.

“Nikolai? Where are we going?”

He smirks and says nothing as he drives his car to the racing road.

“Wait. Wait, are you racing now? Wait, I thought you were just gonna show me around—”

“I said I'm gonna show you fun, didn't I?” Nikolai grins teasingly. More cars are approaching the starting line. The fierce noise of roaring engines is all around you. You look outside the window beside you, seeing that the spectators are all spirited up for another race for the night. You even see your friend among the crowd, with a beer in her hand.

A presence looms behind you and you feel his warm breath teasing your neck. Nikolai reaches for the seatbelt right next to you. His scent salivates you and you swallow nervously when you peek a glance at his bicep. Your stomach makes a funny twist when he is just too close.

Nikolai cackles at your face when you turn to him. He grins and stretches his arms.

“Buckle up, darling! If I win this race, I'll get your number!”

©doukeshi-kun 2024 — do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, more @/cherikolya

if you like my works, consider buy me a ko-fi!

#道化師-jest❃ུ۪ #nikolai gogol x reader #nikolai x reader #bsd x reader #bsd imagines #nikolai imagines #bsd nikolai x reader #bsd nikolai gogol #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader

[trashmouth-richie]

master list

Eddie x fem! reader

⚠️ TRIGGER WARNINGS ⚠️

Absolutely no minors, gtfo. Hopefully everyone has read the warning post from earlier this week regarding this chapter. it is extremely dark themed.

Heavy violence

References to past rape/ assault

Blood, gore

Domestic violence

Somnaphilia

Character death etc

A/N: please know your limits. I love you and let’s get into this chapter so we can move on.

The brown popcorn bag spun lazily in the microwave like an oily inflating balloon. The steady hum of the appliance kept you company as the countdown to the sad supper ticked to an end. The cheerful ding springing you from the staring contest you were having with the counter top. 

  The small radio you had purchased was sitting on the counter, the soft belt of Linger by The Cranberries was playing for what seemed like the tenth time today and you couldn’t help but feel the lyrics in your blood. 

  Unaware of anything out of the ordinary. A typical night after working at the bar. Showering and throwing on a pair of pajama shorts, tucked next to the pair of Eddie’s boxer briefs you had found last week. 

  After investigating why the washer banged all to hell when even the smallest of loads were in it, wedged tight under the plastic agitator were his underwear. 

  And you’d be a fool to say you hadn’t broken down and sobbed in the basement on the discovery. 

  You dried them and folded them neatly next to your delicates. The same drawer that held the worn and tarnished pig ring he gave you as a Christmas gift, and the envelope full of cash. 

  The water works started again. 

  Hot tears flooding your eyes, the simple act made you feel like he was home with you. But the nightmare always continued.

  You missed him so much. 

  “But you always really knew

I just want to be with you

  If you were a tiny bit more awake you might have caught that the door to the garage was locked even though you had no memory of locking it yourself. 

  ..And I'm in so deep

You know I'm such a fool for you

You got me wrapped around your finger

  Rustling the steaming bag from the microwave with burnt finger tips, you toss it on the counter hastily. Sucking your fingers into your mouth to dull the stinging redness away.

  Do you have to let it linger?

  And maybe it was then that if you weren’t busy nursing the premature burns, you would have noticed the odd set of keys on the counter next to the mail, pushed to the side by the buttery bag of popcorn. 

  Do you have to, do you have to, do you have to let it linger?

  Bending at the waist to the lower cabinet you reach around for the smooth plastic of the yellow popcorn bowl. Upon standing you feel dizzy. You hear it before you feel it, the loud thwap of something heavy against the back of your head. The pain is searing and turns your vision to black. You’re passed out before your head even hits the floor. 

  (1987)

  The November air whipped into reddened skin, striking out any heat you had left in the confinements of the peach sweater you borrowed from Nancy on your frozen walk to Forest Hills Trailer Park. 

  It happened again. 

  And this time it wasn’t an accident, no matter how much he begged, no matter how many times he said he was sorry. 

  He hit you with a closed fist. 

  You weren’t flirting with Dustin. He was your friend. Way before Chad had taken any interest in you. Most of your friends were guys, besides El and Max, and even though Nancy Wheeler was older and more popular— you considered her a friend too. 

  When she left for college this past fall, she insisted on making her room more stylish to your liking. And she never once minded the twin beds you both slept in, a night stand between them. 

  But when Mike sat next to you at lunch and was going over notes from Kensington’s class, Chad’s mind twisted it into Mike hitting on you. Which led to Chad hitting on you, but instead of compliments and doting behavior— he drug you out to his car, a bony grip on the back of your neck.

  He screamed at you with every vein protruding from his tan skin. Voice hoarse and throat stretched tight. 

  Apparently you were fucking people behind his back. Even though you were a virgin. The town whore! He had yelled loud for even some of the teachers to hear, all turning a blind eye to the obvious domestic abuse happening on school grounds. 

  Explaining yourself only made it worse. 

  He slapped your face hard when you opened your mouth to interrupt him. And when you stood your ground and raised your chin to him, calm and steadily telling him to go fuck himself, he swung a fist into your eye. 

  And that’s when you left. 

  His apologies trailing behind you and caught in the gut of wind to travel far away from your ears. He wouldn’t follow you, he had appearances at school to keep up. 

  Much easier to tell Aaron and Sean that you got your period and were being crazy then explain why he had left school.

  The gravel crunched beneath your feet, frozen from the last winter storm and holding pockets of ice amongst the rocks. 

  Pale blue and still holding the old television lawn ornament, you sighed audible when Eddie’s van was parked outside of the aluminum sided trailer. 

  You hadn’t seen him since graduation last May. The night Chrissy’s extra curricular activities with Rick finally came out when they were caught fucking in the shower upstairs, at Steve’s house. Both sporting pricked arms with needle marks. 

  A broken hearted Eddie drank all night long and puked into the hot tub.

  Your quickened steps up to the concrete stairs and a shaky broken knock on the screen door have you stepping back waiting for the door to open, awaiting Eddie’s stupid grin waiting on the other side. 

-

  Living with Eddie you had no reason to be afraid. Many nights the front door was left unlocked. And maybe it was out of habit. Maybe you had left it unlatched tonight too. 

  It would explain how he was there now. 

  Hovering over you, his blond hair coined perfectly slicked to the side, slightly feathered back with thick styling gel. A Ralph Lauren polo with the logo on the left chest. His cologne reeked of some designer brand, making your stomach queasy.

  The only difference between those years ago and now was that he had a small dusting of a flesh colored mustache wiggled on his sweaty lip. Same maniacal inky blacks to his blown pupils, laced with the piercing blue. 

  The realization ices your veins and stings your eyes with angry tears. 

  Chad Cunningham was in your home, his body over yours as you're pinned beneath him, the smell of iron invading your nose. Looking around with wild eyes you see the crimson streaks from the linoleum in the kitchen to the carpet where you are laying. Your head thumping with the rhythm of bloody drops against the fibers of the worm carpet.

  “Been a long time hasn’t it, honey bun?” 

  An eternity wouldn’t have been enough. 

  Pressing his body into yours, you can feel the stiffness of his starched shirt as you try to will your arms to fight him away. He chuckles at your feeble attempts to push him off.

  His weight presses deeper into you as he lowers his mouth to your lips, squeezing your face he almost sings,  “Told you I’d see you soon.” 

  His lips are harshly planted into yours, feeling like jagged rocks against your soft waters.

  “Fuck,” he groans, hard against your thigh. “just like I remember. I’ve missed you.” 

  The clink of his belt unthreading from the loops of his khakis finally renders your senses. But you wait with calculated timing. 

  Leaning back, he stares into your face with a quizzical expression burrowed deep on his brow. “What’s the frown for? Don’t you miss me? Aren’t you happy to see me?” 

  Evident that his delusions still ran deep, it’s showtime. You would survive this. One good hit, that's all it would take. 

  Pushing yourself up gently, your head is swimming with nausea and the steady dripping tick of blood down the back of your neck. 

  Placing a shaky hand to his cheek he moves into your hand, the same way Eddie had that night, your stomach somersaults at the memory. 

  When his eyes shut, you turn your fingers into a clawed position, and scrape the flesh from the corner of his eye down to his lip. 

  It happens quickly and with your blurred vision and pounding head it feels like it’s all in slow motion. He wasn’t expecting it. 

  A kick to his ribs hurt your bare feet probably more than it injured him but you needed the extra time to escape into your room. 

  The phone feels cool against your cheek, and weighs heavy on your shoulder when you realize it’s dead. The plan of you running in here, dialing 9-1-1 and holding him off until they came was foiled. 

  “BITCH! You can’t hide from me!” 

  Knowing you only have seconds before he finds you, you 

frantically look around for something to defend yourself with. Searching eyes land on the window. 

  Just need to get out and run to Mr. Griffin’s house. 

  Fingers on the frame you yank upwards, palms digging into the wired screen, pushing it out.

  Throwing your leg out into the darkness of the night, you’re one step closer to being safe. One step closer to ending this night of horrors before it could begin. 

  The noise of splintering wood and the crack of a door being snapped from its hinges join your erratic breath and piercing screams— a monstrous reel of symphonic sound. 

  Chad twists a thick fist into your scalp, freeing the hair from its follicles in a sickening pop as you scratch your nails into the window sill, trying to hold on.

  He’s stronger than you, no different than years before. And when your body crumbles onto the floor with a squelching thud, splinters of lacquered wood and nails that once held the door in place, pierce into your exposed skin. 

  But that is minor league compared to the shattering pain delivered from his fist into your face as he straddles you.

  “Think you can hide away with that freak from me?!” He rocks his closed hand into your other cheek, this time clipping your eye with a gold wedding band.  

  Your cries fall on deaf ears. Tears stinging and trying to drip from your swelling eyelids. 

  “Honey bun,” he purrs into your ear, “don’t tell me you’re that fucking stupid to think I wouldn’t find you.”

  His fingers move to brush your hair from your face, and he holds your head in place when you try to bite at his fingers. 

  His wicked smile could make the devil’s scaly skin crawl. 

  “Such a dumb whore, forgetting I have eyes and ears all over this town.” Placing his grabby fingers on his breasts, he continues, “Aaron and Sean may not be the brightest candles on the cake but they are loyal.” 

  Aaron…Sean. 

  You rack your brain for any recollection of those names.  and it finally clicks. Chad’s friends in high school, following him around like he was the King. A snap of his fingers and they’d move like henchmen. Fighting anyone who got in his way, putting themselves at risk just to say they had a friend from a rich family. 

  The realization swims in your eyes and scares your tears dry. 

  “No.”

  “Pieced it together huh?” Chad laughs wildly. “They work..” he grunts, hips rutting against you, pinching your perked nipples in his tight grasp, his fingernails digging through your shirt around the delicate skin, making you squeal, “..with the freak!” 

  His deranged cackle doubles when you yell out in pain. 

  “Small town bosses don’t lock their offices, and it was too easy for Aaron to find your address, even easier to find out that Eddie had left your ass here, unguarded, alone, waiting for someone to save you, and honey bun here I am!” 

  His sick twisted smile oozes fear further into your gut, brooding and feeding on any small amount of joy you had left. 

  “You need a fucking psychiatrist.”

  “Such harsh words for that sweet mouth, but don’t worry!” he reassures, eyes wide with delight and a psychotic expression on his face as he brings his voice low and secret-like, “I won’t kill you yet, the boys are looking for Munson and when they find him…” he lowers himself to kiss your lips, sliding his tongue against the split flesh. 

  “Fuck!” He bellows, licking his lips savoring your taste on his tongue, “when they find him they’re gonna bring him here, and it’ll be arranged to look like the freak killed you and then himself.. a lover’s quarrel gone bad.” 

  He rubs his face and grunts again at the warbled wails you let out, squeezing your breasts and bucking into your clothed crotch. “Goddamn,” he groans, his eyes rolling into his head at the sound of your cries, getting off on your distorted face, “I just couldn’t help myself, had to come here and do this first. One last goodbye.”

  You’d rather be dead at this point. You wish he’d kill you now and get it over with. But the thought of Eddie seeing your lifeless body haunted you. And you stop crying when his hands close around the hollow of your throat. 

  “Gonna be mine, one last time honeybun?”

  “Fuck you,” you croak beneath his hands on your throat.

  You’re weak and running out of time. Rolling your tongue against your teeth and cheeks, harboring a mixture of saliva and blood you wait until Chad is leaning over you, and when he’s close enough you spit the concoction into his face.

  Chad bellers out, letting go of your throat and standing abruptly to wipe his face. The split second he’s distracted you try to crawl away, but he kicks you down. 

  Delivering several soccer styled strikes into your stomach, his voice spewing insults with every jab of his white Nikes into your body.

  A raging shock of fury paints his face.

  “What did I tell you hmm? If I can’t have you— no one can!” You scream loud when his shoe propels into your crotch, shocking your pelvis with burning heat. 

  All noise is void when he rolls you over and crashes down on your beaten body, clobbering your tear and blood streaked face, blow after blow.  Your eyes are swelling shut and you’re surprised when you see Eddie’s face, before your eyes shut. 

  It feels like home. 

  -1987-

  The warm smile you missed so much was not there to greet you. A cold calloused “what?” finds you instead. 

  “Eddie?” you ask with a scratchy throat, clearing it once, twice, to answer him against the wind. 

  Grumbling and stomping in the trailer is heard. Along with two separate giggles. 

  The door is yanked hard inward revealing a version of Eddie Munson you’d never seen before. His skin was sunken in on his cheeks, dark circles rimmed his eyes. His once soft features were sharp and lackluster, brooding with ashy shadows and skin that looked like it hadn’t seen sunlight in months. 

  He looked gaunt and hallowed out, his ribs poking against the cindery color of his skin. The warm whiskey eyes that once danced when he laughed were now gaping blacked marbled, polar and dull. 

  He speaks but you are too busy holding your breath from the stench of rotting clothes and unwashed bodies. 

  Stumbling over an apology for not hearing him, you are startled when he barks back,  “I said, what the fuck are you doing here, Tooty?” 

  You look to the floor and notice he’s wearing a heavily stained sock with a hole in the toe, the other foot bare, next to a pair of work boots are three pairs of women’s shoes:, heels, keds, and pink reeboks. Your toes wiggle in your worn converse. 

  “I’m.. I uh..” 

  Eddie rolls his eyes, “oh for fucks sake spit it out! You selling raffle tickets or something for school? Pep team need new Pom-poms? Or maybe the chess club is looking for a new board?” 

  Shock stealing your speech you stand on frigid feet digging your fingers into the yarn on the Nancy’s sweater. Tears bite your lashes and fall on cold cheeks. 

  Eddie! Where’s your lighter? A sultry voice coos, padding feet getting closer to the threshold. 

  “Listen kid, I’m fucking busy, I don’t have time to haul you around because twiddle dick and dum forgot you at the gas station again.” 

  He has barely looked at you since you got there. The guy who held more merit to you than your own brother was gone. 

  When you wipe your eyes on the sleeve of your sweater  he lets out an exaggerated groan. 

  He thrusts dirty fingers into his sweatpants pockets. Pulling out a perfectly rolled twenty dollar bill, he flattens it smooth. He smears his finger along the length of the bill, collecting remnants of a fine white powder, which is quickly shoved into his greedy mouth and rubbed on his gums like he’s brushing his teeth. 

  “Here,” he grunts, shoving the drugged money into your pocket, avoiding your eyes at all cost, “now get lost.” 

  The blinds on the door are still swinging as you stand there dumbstruck and watery eyed. Low voices are murmured through the thin walls as a lighter flicks and sizzles.

  Who was that baby? 

  Nobody. 

  And that’s exactly who you were to everyone you knew, nobody. 

  And ironically enough— that’s exactly who you could rely on. 

  One thing was for certain: Eddie Munson was a stranger to you. 

  The tears fell harder on the shameful walk back to Chad. But you weren’t sure if you were crying harder because of the sudden loss you felt from an old friend or because of the pain in your eye.  

-

  Heart hammering in his chest, Eddie jiggles the door handle, it’s locked and he panics and realizes he still has his key. Fumbling with the key ring, Eddie finds the short brass one and unlocks the door. 

  The sight of the mostly empty house is jarring, causing his stomach to drop , a small recliner rests in the living room where his couch once sat. Wine is spilled from the kitchen to the living room, smeared like it was swept poorly with a mop. 

  You never drank wine.

  Maybe you started drinking heavily after he left. He did. It only made sense. 

But a second glance at the claret colored stain embedded into the carpet and his worst fear was realized. 

  Blood.

  The sound of something wet and thwacking settles into his bones and shakes his spine. Someone was hurting you.

  Heavy docs lead him to the corner of the house, your room and his old room. Where his door was intact, yours was shattered. Like Jack Torrance took his ax to it in The Shining. Stepping on cracked wood, Eddie sees the most horrific thing he’s ever been a witness too. 

  And suddenly he’s six years old again, helpless. Watching a woman he loved lose a battle she didn’t even know she was in. But instead of his mother’s lifeless body crumbled by his father’s feet, instead of her dark curly hair matted with pooling blood and a gaping bullet hole— It’s you underneath a guy he doesn’t recognize.

  Your face is battered and covered in blood, the once plush lips he held so warmly between his own were split and slack. Your eyes were swollen, lacking any shine to them they normally held. 

  His eyes connect with yours for a brief second, and when they close he doesn’t know if they will open again. 

  Fury radiates through his entire body, masking the pain of heartache at the sight of you slipping from him. 

  Before he can acknowledge the thought of you being gone, he lunges at the catalog Dad dressed asshole. Knocking him off your body and landing on top of him, colliding into your dresser. The tangle of body parts wrestling for purchase tumble into the hall. Ringed fists land home on every surface of this guy's face, and when he stops to take a breath— he realizes the face he is hitting is Chad Cunningham’s.

  How did he find you? Had he been stalking you both since that day at the grocery store?

  Didn’t matter all that he cared about was throwing this mother fucker the biggest ass kicking of his life, and he wouldn’t stop until either Chad or himself was dead.

  “I’ve waited years for this day,” Chad spit, after getting a punch in when Eddie was in his own head, knocking Eddie’s jaw to bite down on his tongue, filling his mouth with blood immediately. “Trailer trash Munson finally came to play.”

  Taken by surprise, Chad shoves Eddie from him and stands up, looking through the doorway at your limp body. 

  Eddie stands slow, using the bathroom doorknob to help, he reaches for the knife kept in his back pocket. 

  Chad spins to face Eddie, his hair sweaty and face ballooning out from Eddie’s rings. “You should have left my girl alone Munson, would have saved your uncle the heartache.”

  Eddie flicks the blade open on the knife, grip tight around it, he breathes through his nose his throat tight and stretching around his words, his leather jacket creaking when he moves his neck around in a stretch, confident in his delivery, “she’s not yours.” 

  The hysterical laugh that leaves Chad’s lungs could resemble bats screeching in the night, he’d make a great clown in a haunted house. 

  “Dead or alive whether I’m married or not— she’ll always be mine.”

  Like alley cats, they stare each other down, waiting for the opportunity to pounce.

  Chad licks his lips and looks your way again, “listen, I get it, she’s hot. And that tight little pussy..” he licks his lips and grabs himself over his denim jeans, stained with your blood.

  Eddie’s blood is boiling, he’s seconds away from snapping but trying to hold it together long enough to make a perfect attack.

  Chad leans forward, gesturing a mockery secret with his hand held around his mouth, “It’s even better when she’s fighting you,” he inhales deep, like he’s wishing he was in a past memory, “screaming really tightens her right up.”

  Knife out, Eddie charges forward. And is struck dumb when the knife is kicked from his hand. Another kick this time to the chest that he wasn’t expecting sends him stumbling into the living room, air gone from his lungs. Chad follows and swings into his diaphragm making Eddie choke out on nothing, gasping for air. 

  “Oh come on, Munson,” Chad taunted, leaning down to kiss Eddie’s cheek, “Thought you would have some trailer park moves to throw at me.”

  Raising a heavy boot, Eddie stomps on Chad’s toes, and mule kicks his kneecaps. A ringed fist meets his cheek, adding another forming bruise to his winter tan skin. Shoving him backwards into the counter in the kitchen, the cabinet doors bust on the impact. 

  The punches Eddie is landing have his knuckles bloody and swelling but he doesn’t care. Each punch is a testament for the years you held yourself together, acted like nothing bad was going on, when in reality you were experiencing hell on Earth and he never knew. 

  This was his payback. His way of righting a wrong. A wrong that should have never even began.

  He doesn’t know what he was hit with just that he was stumbling backwards again. Temple throbbing and without reaching up he knows he’s bleeding. His back hitting the corner of the fridge he slides down onto the linoleum.

  His head is heavy and his vision blinded with hazy clouds of black and white. He hears Chad but doesn’t see him, just feels his head being slammed in the fridge and a grip in his hair. 

  “Could have saved your uncle funeral costs you stupid bastard… clearly you don’t care about him, or Tooty for that matter, leaving her all alone like that,” Chad sucks through his teeth, splitting blood onto Eddie’s shirt, “thought the raccoons usually stuck together.”

  He chuckles low and slams Eddie’s head one more time with such force it leaves a dent in the fridge. “Now if you’ll excuse me,” he says, straightening his shirt, walking towards your room , “my girl is waiting.”

  “Don’t touch her!” Eddie roars, pushing himself up to stand with all his might. Pounding head and nausea thick in his mouth. Raising his head he looks at Chad with blurry sight, trying to see clearly. His voice is low, catching his breath and taking all of his strength to utter out the words. Balancing around the mark of deranged, “I’ll fucking kill you.”  

  Chad swivels on his heels, head cocked at Eddie, he grabs under his chin holding it firmly in place. His breath fanning over Eddie’s cheeks and he smiles maniacally, blood painting his teeth. 

  “Don’t flatter yourself.” A heavy fist to the gut has Eddie doubled over. Gripping the counter with white knuckles and wet blood smeared fingertips. 

  He had failed again. He wasn’t able to stop his own father from killing his mother. And now Chad was on his way to desecrate your lifeless body. He’s a fuck up and a failure. 

  Always. 

  A low guttural choking sound breeches Eddie’s ears. And he turns to see you covered in your own blood, barely standing and wielding a bat with nails protruding from every which way. 

  The nails are claret colored and dripping thick drops onto the carpet, fibers of Chad’s jeans hang in shreds from the sharp edges. A scant look towards Eddie and your eyes swim with relief and mourning. 

  He’s here. Blood is smeared down his lips and his hands look tight and swollen. 

  But he’s alive. And so are you.

  Eddie’s vision is doubled and he blinks rapidly unaware if he is seeing you or not. He swallows hard and almost chokes on tears.

  But that is short lived.

  And it happens fast. 

  The yelling rage from Chad’s lungs over power your screams. His hands are tight around your throat before you can blink, your spine snapping into the nearest wall, feet dangling off the ground. 

  Haziness bleeds into your eyes and your breath is expelled from screaming— now gone when your windpipe is crushing like a pixie stick under Chad’s grip. 

  Desperate to fight back you jam your thumbs into his eyes. Victor Creel style like the Urban Legends passed down that you were told as kids. 

  If you were going to die, at least he would be blind, a forever reminder of this day etched, literally, into his face. 

  You prayed Eddie would know how much you loved him.  

  Should have’s taking over the last puffs of oxygen in your brain, popping like bubbles. 

  Should have told him sooner. 

  Should have said it every day. 

  Should have kissed him more. 

  Should have let him love you. 

  The guilt wraps around your mind as the cold hands of death welcome you. But you’re not afraid. Knowing Chad always kept good on his word, Eddie would join you in the afterlife.

  Hand in hand. 

  Strolling along the pinked cotton candy clouds and the pearly gates. 

  You are his and he is yours. 

  Lovers together finally at last. 

  The last breath on your lips is a silent devotion to him. 

  I love you, Eddie.

-

a/n: my asks are always open ♥️

#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #fic recs #eddie munson angst #stranger things

[ohnonononononono567]

Carry me - Simon "Ghost" Riley x m!reader (angst)

Games

Bit by Bit

(This was made after 1am and I projected my OCD onto a fictional character so that's on me guys, my bad. Any bad writing can be blamed on the fact I was watching chernobyl with my cat and eating the saltiest fried chicken sandwich known as i wrote this)

"Simon-"

"Don't." He grunted, leaving his position in your bed. Never his. 

The day he admits it's his bed as well, is the day he has the ability to sleep peacefully. And God knows when he'll be granted that right. 

He awoke to the sound of screams, his ears ringing. The feeling of water and blood rapidly running under his skin, as if his flesh begged to be free. 

You had rolled over to hold his midriff, and Lord help him with how much he's grown attached to you, with how much he wanted to pin you down as if you were nothing more than another enemy in his eyes.

He shot up, just to feel the familiar sting of a hook in his rib as he had sat on the bed.

Stepping out onto the patio with a grunt, a tank top and some joggers on with slippers. The apartment's patio serving as the perfect place to have a smoke, the dog yawning to join. Big fella, she was, nudging snout onto Simons leg.

Sitting down, he grabs a light, lighting the cigarette he had hiding cheekily in his pocket, when he had swore up and down he wasn't smoking anymore less than 8 hours ago.

Burn your wrist.

Shut up Riley, you know better than to act on that.

Do it now.

No.

He leaned back, allowing the nicotine to enter his system, and the tobacco to leave a lasting smell on the rough pads of his fingers. He watched you from the corner of your eye. Silent panic. Wanting to help him. But you can't. All he can do is lie to a therapist and come home to you.

He made this worse. Leave him. You're nothing, but he's worse. 

Stop.

He saw you at your worst. Why stay? 

Because he saw me at my worst. And he stayed.

He shouldn't have.

Stop.

He knows nothing about you and he goes to sleep saying bull crap about loving you.

"STOP!"

He yells, grabbing his hair in two fists on the side of his head, the cigarette between his fingers, lingering in the night air as the sound of the city stand beneath him.

He looks at you, and you seem to just be staring. Frozen. 

It spitballs, as he meets your gaze;

"Stop fucking staring at me like that yeah? You can't fucking help me! You deal with me, or you kick me out. Should've done that by now if you've ever known what's good for you!" He says, throwing his hands up in the air out of exasperation, the dog yelping a bit as she backs away. He heads back inside, putting out the cigarette, and snatching his blanket, heading towards the couch.

You gave him a look as he left. He knew that look. You've set boundaries, he was trying to be healthy for you. Honest. You wouldn't stand for verbal abuse, nor disrespect. But he was weak. Useless in the presence of a man like you.

He knew better than to immediately go to you. He left earlier for the gym that morning, called off work, went to one of those shitty manmade parks with more dog piss than a fire hydrant, and sat himself down. Right in the grass, watching a single dandelion. It was weak. But it still stood in the grass. It moved with the wind, even when it lost it's soft white petals. 

And when it was stripped naked, bare, with nothing left to offer, there was another dandelion there. Planted from the wind carrying it. Ready to repeat the cycle. 

Why is he doing this? He'll repeat what his father did. He was the end of it. No relatives to fall back on. God knows how much he's begged to bring his brother, Tommy back. 

But that's just it. He's the end of the cycle.

Get up. Nobody is coming to save you.

He stands before you now, with nothing to offer, but the willingness to move with you if you'd allow him. If you'd allow a weak man like him to remain with you. He'll continue to lose his petals, but you'll help him plant new flowers. To utter the words, 

"I can never truly tell you how sorry I am, love. You are the man I want. You are everything. And it's not enough. But I am trying."

Looking up at you, his bones brittle, his eyes heavy.

He wants to sleep. To feel his flesh settle, his mind quiet.

And as you embrace him, he can feel every molecule in his skin burning. 

And if you ever let reality hit that you deserve someone who could think like a bloody normal human for once, would he continue to survive for as long as he could without you to carry him. Until he allowed the world to end what it started. 

You are everything.

Laying in bed, your hands hesitantly rubbing his back in soft circular motions as he keeps his head in your tummy, soft breathing as the dog nuzzled into the crook between you two, soft kisses lingering on his tongue, it leaves him before he can chase after it;

"...Would you ever marry me?"

@tabloid-junki3 i dont think i cooked but i did heat it up in the microwave so

#cod fanfic #cod fluff #fluff #simon riley imagine #trans friendly #simon riley x you #lieutenant ghost #simon x reader #y/n #call of duty x y/n #call of duty x reader #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #cod x male reader #male reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x male reader #ghost x you #ghost x reader #ghost fanfiction #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #cod x reader #ghost #cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #call of duty modern warfare 2

[augustjustice]

Sharing Smokes Outside the Snow Ball

AO3 Link

It's the Winter of 1999, and Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson are standing outside the Hawkins Middle School Snow Ball, sharing a smoke.

Eddie can't believe he's back here, the whole thing feeling nearly as surreal as that nightmare, wayward Spring Break over ten years ago. He'd barely made it out of that hell hole alive, Steve himself practically having to hold Eddie together as they made their way from Forest Hill to Hawkins Memorial Hospital.

Spring had turned into summer, sweltering and oppressive as Eddie slowly, painfully healed.

There had been bright spots, though. Watching Lucas and Erica squabble during the one-shot campaign he had cooked up just for the party that June. Evenings out beside the Harrington's temperature controlled pool, beer bottle sweating in his hand as he traded a joint back and forth between Argyle and Jonathan, the sound of Robin's cackle loud and bright as she managed to hipcheck Steve into the pool. Steve's own blinding smile--a longtime feature of Eddie's secret high school fantasies--being turned on him the first time he made it from the front doors of the physical therapy clinic to the passenger side of his BMW, without needing any help at all.

But then summer had ended, and Eddie, finally back together again like a character out of a children's nursery rhyme, had packed up his van and headed straight to Chicago, not looking back.

Sure, there'd been post cards sent, phone calls to Dustin and the other Hellfire brats, promises to see everyone soon. Promises that Eddie couldn't keep, even if he wanted to.

Not when he didn't dare set foot in Hawkins, not ever again.

Then, over a decade into his second life as a struggling guitarist by night, record shop employee by day, his cousin Brooke had landed on his doorstep, looking too tired and too young all at once, a bruise around her eye. Behind her, her eleven year old son was studying the apartment hall's tiling.

"I left him." Eddie didn't need an explanation for that one. Her good-for-nothing husband, Nash. "Jake won't be any trouble, he just...needs a place to stay, while I get back on my feet. Somewhere his daddy can't find him. Just for a little while."

Eddie thought of his Mama. And then he called Wayne.

"Shit, Uncle Wayne, I--don't know what to do."

"Come on home now, boy," Wayne said, easy as anything, like Eddie had left only yesterday. "Come on back home."

So Eddie had.

That had been six months ago. And now he was standing in the aforementioned middle school parking lot with Steve 'the Hair' Harrington, while their kids--and wasn't that just a fucking head trip and a half--danced the night away.

"I keep half expecting Click to round the corner screaming my name," Eddie admits as he gives Steve a light. "Remember junior year, I sold to you in the alley behind the gym? Old bat nearly got me that time."

"Remember? I literally had to shove that joint down the front of my shorts, dude," Steve admits, which draws a snort out of Eddie to match his own chuckle. "Most of the guys on the basketball team couldn't move half as fast as you did that day. You practically vanished into the woods before she even made it to the stadium. Totally shoulda gone out for the track team, Eds."

Eddie clutches his chest, as though he's been shot. "Don't speak such blasphemy to me, Harrington."

"Yeah, well, you can quit worrying. Pretty sure she finally retired," Steve tells him, taking a long drag before he's passing the cigarette back to Eddie, even that brief touch enough to send sparks of electricity up Eddie's arm. Then he shoots Eddie that charming, infamous Harrington smile, boyish and cocky, the one that says he's used to getting exactly what he wants. "Even if she's not, I'm head of the PTA. If Higgins tries anything, I'll just threaten not to bring cupcakes to the next bake sale."

"Harrington, my hero," Eddie fakes a swoon, collapsing for a brief second against Steve's shoulder, an excuse to get close.

The theatrics get no rise out of Steve beyond an amused smirk. Even after all these years, he's still used to Eddie's antics, it seems.

"You know, it was total déjà vu," he nods to the middle school gymnasium, all decked out in blue and white, "dropping Sam off here."

Though he's actually gotten to know the Harrington offspring in person since he's been back, Eddie had received the rundown from Dustin and the others on Steve's journey to dadhood in their scattered calls over the years.

The December after Eddie had left, Steve had met a girl, taken her out on a few dates, and accidentally gotten her pregnant.

With Samantha, a name Dustin had proudly persuaded Steve into as the little girl's godfather. Every bit as adorable, now that Eddie had seen her, as the gushing picture the party had painted for him, all big blue eyes and wavy chestnut hair just like her father's.

Steve had gotten down on one knee long before she was born, determined to tie the knot and do right by her mother nearly as soon as he'd heard the news.

The pair had been divorced not even two years later.

"I don't think they were ever really in love," Dustin had informed Eddie one sunny afternoon impromptu of nothing, as always blunt in his honesty. "But you know what Steve is like. He's a hopeless romantic."

Eddie didn't, not exactly. But he's gotten enough glimpses, both back in '86 and much more recently, that he's starting to put the picture together.

Steve draws Eddie out of that particular reverie with another bright laugh. And then he's recounting the memory of Dustin's hair, done up in the infamous Harrington 'do, as Steve pulled up in front of the '84 Snow Ball playing chaperone in his trusty Beemer, long since traded in for the much more affordable sedan he's driving now.

"I demand photographic evidence, Harrington," Eddie insists, smile crooked, that distracting dimple appearing in his right cheek, "you can't conjure up an image like that and then not fork over the goods."

"Hey, man, talk to Dustin. Mrs. Henderson took like...a million pictures that night," Steve laughs.

But he's already mentally going through the album tucked away on a bookcase back at home, positive he's got his own photo to show for it. It'll make for a nice excuse to invite Eddie over for dinner one night.

The subject turns then to their own checkered experiences with school dances.

"Class of '85, baby! That's when they made your 'King Steve' title official," Eddie crows, teasing as he taps Steve once on the nose.

Steve goes a bit cross-eyed, following the movement of his finger.

"Yeah, well, talk about a total let-down of a night. I didn't even bring a date," Steve admits, tone blasé. The truth is, his entire senior year had been something of a disappointed trudge towards graduation, a walk he had taken mostly alone. There had been bright spots--the little band of miscreants he'd fallen into babysitting, for one--but they had all been far outside the walls of Hawkins High. "I'm guessing you weren't around for that? Not really your scene, especially with the Munson Doctrine's strict rules about 'forced conforming.'"

He puts Eddie's words in deliberate air quotes, his turn to give him a teasing smile.

"You're wrong about that one, big boy. I saw them, adorning your glorious locks with the crown." That mischievous smile is back. "We're not that old, dude, don't tell me you already forgot the whole 'prom streaking' incident?"

Eddie shoots him a loaded, deliberate look.

"Wait a minute, wait a minute." Shaking his head with a laugh, Steve waves his arms in front of him, like he's calling a time out. "You've gotta be fucking kidding me. That was you?"

"The one and only. What can I say, Jeff and Gareth dared me. Besides, by that point," Eddie shrugs casually, "I already knew I didn't have a shot at graduating anyway, so. Thought I'd close out the year with a bang."

"You've seriously never considered doing anything halfway in your life, have you, Munson?" Steve asks, giving Eddie's shoulder an almost exasperated nudge, smile fond in spite of himself.

"Absolutely not, Stevie boy. Life's too short. Where's the fun in playing it safe?"

Eddie swings into Steve's space, then, dark eyes sparkling. Goading and flirtatious. Just like when they were teenagers, thrown together in the worst of circumstances but making the best of it, before time and pain and trauma put all that distance between them.

And if Steve's eyes drop down to Eddie's lips as they share air, slow enough it can't be anything but deliberate, and their fingers brush just a tad too intimately the next time they trade the cigarette back and forth...well. They've got a lot of lost time--and shared smokes in school parking lots--to make up for.

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #my writing #my stuff #my things #i watched the end of season 2 for the umpteenth time this evening #remembered i always wanted a steddie scene parallel to the jopper smoking scene outside the snow ball #and then wrote this in a fevered haze over the past two hours #so apologies for any mistakes and messiness

[vanfleeter]

Revelation

Summary: Going on a platonic date and being mistaken for being a couple, but things might just change. Characters: Jake x Fem!Reader Warnings: 18+ as always. Language. Fluff. Light Smut. Kissing. Heated make out. Angst (if you squint really, really hard). Allusions to sex.

Valentine's Masterlist

It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for Jake to invite you to go to dinner with him. It was usually when he wanted to get out of the house after going completely out of his mind.

So here you are, standing outside your apartment building and waiting for him to show up. And just on time, when he’s usually running late, his car pulls up to the side road. He parks it and gets out to open the passenger door for you.

“Oh how gentleman of you.” You giggle as you climb up inside.

“Don’t get used to it.” He smirks before shutting the car door and jogging back around to his side.

“So..” You say, breaking the comfortable silence in the car. It was never awkward between the two of you, if anything the you two enjoy the silence and just soaking in each other’s presence. “Uh… You already had this planned?”

Jake nods his head. “Had it planned since the new year. It’s a nice place, it's kind of hard to get reservations.. I didn’t want to cancel so I thought why not ask my best friend to join me?”

“Aw, how thoughtful.” You say, making him chuckle. “But you should know, I-”

“-Never liked her.. I know,” He smirks.

“Well..” You shrug your shoulders. He laughs and turns on the turn signal to make a right turn at the intersection.

–

Parking the car in the lot of the restaurant, he gets out and comes around to your side to open your door. “You know you don’t have to do that.” You say.

“I’m being polite.” He says as he closes the door when you get out.

With his hand on the small of your back, he guides you through the open door of the restaurant. The simple touch from him on your back sent a warm feeling through your middle, making your heart race just a little more than usual.

“Good evening!” The hostess smiles. “Do you have a reservation for tonight?”

“Yes,” Jake responds. “It's under Jacob Kiszka.”

The hostess hums as she looks through the book. “Yes, Kiszka. Party of two. Right this way.”

As she leads the two of you through the restaurant, Jake glances over at you, a small smile tugging at his lips as he watches your eyes grow in size as how fancy this place is. You don’t go to places like this. Your idea of fancy included cooking at home with a small glass of wine, maybe two if you were feeling yourself. This was way over what you’ve been to.

“Here we are.” She says with a smile, placing a couple menus down on the booth table. “Your waiter will be over soon to bring your drinks.”

“This place is insane..” You say, still looking around the room. “There’s chandeliers here, huge ones.” Jake smiles from across the booth as the awe still clouds your eyes. “And there’s a live jazz band?”

A young man walks over carrying a couple glasses and an expensive bottle of wine. “Compliments of the chef for the happy couple.”

“Couple?” You question.

Jake’s face falls but he quickly plays it off by clearing his throat and flashing the waiter a smile. “That’s very kind,” He says. “Please give him our thanks.”

The waiter pours the wine before retrieving a notepad and pen to write your orders. With Jake’s insistence on you getting anything you would like, you end up ordering a steak with all of the sides and he ends up ordering the same thing.

Once the waiter is gone, you reach for your wine and take a drink. “I’m sorry about that,” Jake awkwardly laughs. “I forgot I had put a note on the reservation that I’d be bringing my girlfriend–not knowing that we’d..break up..before this..”

You give him a warm smile and shake your head. “Don’t apologize.. Besides, free wine? I won’t turn that down.” You say with a giggle and take another drink of your wine. Hearing the music change, you can’t help but smile again when you recognize what song is being played. Standing up from the booth and receiving a confused look from Jake, you hold out your hand to him.

“It’s just a dance,” You say. “They already think we’re a couple, why not play off of it?”

He reluctantly slides out of the booth and straightens his jacket before taking your hand in his. You weren’t sure if he had felt it too, but there was a slight jolt of electricity as your hands connected. To which you chalked up as static after he ran his hands over his suit jacket.

Platonic.

That’s all it is.

Just friends.

Friends who are apparently having dinner at a fancy restaurant, dancing like a couple because that’s what the whole restaurant staff believes you are.

His hand rests again on the small of your back, but that’s as close as he will let himself get to you.

“Jake..” You say. He hums in acknowledgment, looking down at you. “I’m not gonna jump your bones should you decide you want to get closer.”

“Oh uh..” He clears his throat. “Okay.”

Stepping closer to close the two inch gap between your two, his pelvis rests softly against yours and his hand slides from your back to your other hip. He bravely pushes closer until he can feel your chest rising and falling against his suit. The contact alone sends a blood rush to his cock and he’s praying-to whatever higher power is out there-that you can’t feel it.

He hasn’t ever been this close to you–and that doesn’t include hugs.

He can feel the sweat perspiring on his palm and his heart begins to race. Little does he know that you’re feeling the exact same way. Even the flood of arousal between your legs.

When the song finally ends, you quickly excuse yourself to the bathroom, claiming to touch up just a little before the food comes out. He stammers a little before nodding his head and giving a soft ‘okay’ and a smile.

Stepping into the bathroom, you head straight for the sink and rest your palms against the edges. Taking in deep breaths, you work on calming yourself down, easing your heart rate and your nerves.

Once you feel calm enough, you straighten out your dress and run a hand through your hair and walk back out to the dining area. Approaching the table, you find that your food has already been brought out. Jake had yet to touch his food, him stating that he wanted to wait for you.

“It’s only been a minute since they brought it out,” He says.

“Oh, wonderful.” You slide back into the booth and retrieve the cloth napkin to spread over your lap. “This looks amazing.” You say before taking your fork and knife and cutting off a bite.

–

Dinner continues to go smoothly, small talk taking place between bites of food. A few laughs shared, mostly over stories of his brothers, to which you don’t mind. As your plates are cleared and you both agree to dessert, the waiter comes back with a single dish with a single slice of chocolate cake with a scoop of vanilla ice cream nestled beside it.

They still believe that you’re a couple. But just like the wine, the dessert is free, more compliments of the chef.

It all comes down to the last bite of chocolate cake. You both lock eyes with each other and he smirks, readying his fork. “Bring it on, Jacob.” You say. And so the fight begins for the last bite. Of course he wins. He giggles and stabs the piece with his fork but instead of stuffing it into his mouth, he leans across the table and lets you eat it off his fork.

Again the rush of arousal floods to his cock again as he watches your lips close around his fork and take in the piece of cake. He gulps and pulls away and places his fork on the table.

For fucks sake, Jake. Pull yourself together. She is your friend. Your best friend.

The waiter comes back with the check and Jake hands over his card to pay for the dinner.

–

“I really enjoyed tonight,” You say as you unlock the door to your apartment. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“Well it would have been pretty awkward to go with Josh,” He chuckles. “But you’re welcome.”

You smile and push open the door. Do it. Just ask him. “Do you, uh.. Do you want to come in?” You ask. “Unless you think it’s too late.” You quickly add.

He smiles and shakes his head. “I’d love to come in.” He says. Stepping inside, you hold the door open allowing him to come inside.

He instantly makes himself at home by slipping off his loafers and leaving them by the door and hanging up his suit jacket on the coat rack. He plops down on the sofa and crosses his legs on the coffee table. Slipping off your heels, you walk over to the couch to join him.

“I think the perfect way to end this night is by watching a movie.” He says as he reaches for the remote. You agree and snag a blanket off the back of the couch and cover the both of you.

–

As the movie ends, you both get up from the couch to stretch. His left arm swipes around your waist and pulls you into him. “Hi..” He smiles.

You smile back. “Hi..”

He takes in a deep breath before uttering his next words. “I’m about to do something that could potentially ruin everything but it’s a risk I’m willing to take because all night I’ve been dying to know..”

“To know what?”

He takes your face in his hands and plants a kiss on your lips. It took you by surprise initially but you allow yourself to lean more into it, both figuratively and literally as you press your waist against his body.

“How soft your lips are..” He chuckles when he pulls away.

“I..” You’re unable to form any words. You sigh at your inability to do so and he nods his head.

“You don’t have to say anything.” He says, his head dipping. “That was probably not the right call.” He clears his throat and pulls away before swiping his keys off of the coffee table.

“Woah, wait..” You grab his wrist, pulling him back and pressing your lips back onto his. “It was definitely the right call.” You kiss him again and wrap your arms around his neck.

He grabs your hips and pulls you as close as your bodies could possibly get. His one hand rests on your hip while the other tangles within your hair. Your lips move in sync as your tongues battle one another.

Wrapping his arms around the back of your thighs, he picks you up and lays you on the couch. He rests himself between your legs, hovering over top of you before diving in to attach his lips to your neck. You can feel his now hardened length rub against your center and arousal begins to pool again in your underwear.

As he continues sucking and now licking at your skin, you work to undo the buttons on his shirt, exposing his chest and torso. His skin is already starting to glisten with sweat. You press the palms of your hands against his chest, feeling how it expands with each breath and moves fluidly with each movement he makes.

He moans against your neck, the vibration tickling your skin and making you giggle. He smiles against you before pulling away only briefly to shimmy off his shirt and toss it to the floor. He starts back on your neck again before moving down to your collarbone and eventually down the exposed skin of your chest. He teases the valley of your breasts with a gentle sweep of his tongue and kissing back up to your collarbone and coming back to plant a kiss on your lips.

Being a little risky, you slide your hands from his chest and down to his crotch where you gently cup him in the palm of your hand. His breath hitches in his throat and he looks at you, his eyes darkening and a smirk appearing on his face. He grinds his length into your palm, creating the much needed friction he’s been craving to satisfy the aching feeling in his cock. But he moves back, pulling you with him.

“Everything okay?” You ask.

Jake nods his head. “Yeah..” He runs a hand through his hair. “But if I don’t stop myself now, I’ll want to take you right here.”

“Would that be a bad thing?”

“No! No, it wouldn’t be a bad thing but…” He sighs. “Y/N, listen.. Tonight did not go as planned for either of us.. I didn’t see myself coming home with you, or kissing you. Nor did I see myself doing this.”

“Oh..” You shift your legs on the couch and drape them over the edge before planting your feet on the floor and moving to stand up. “Now I just feel confused..”

He looks up at you from the couch, his brows pulling together. “All I’m saying is that tonight was not at all what I had planned..” He stands up from the couch. “Something definitely shifted tonight.. I felt when I picked you up.. Seeing you in this dress–I don’t know, it showed you to me in a different way. Normally I’d look at you and think of you as just my best friend. But not tonight. Tonight I looked at you in this dress and my heart stopped. All fucking night I was a sweating mess and goddamn nervous to be around you.”

Reaching out for you, he pulls you back to him and presses a delicate kiss to your lips.

“I so badly want to fuck you,” He says. “But I also want to make love to you.”

“Make love to me, Jake..”

–

Walking your fingers up his bare torso and up his chest, you watch as a smile slowly grows on his face. His eyes flutter open and he looks down at you. “Hi..” You say with a smile. He chuckles and wraps his arm around your shoulders to pull you closer to his body.

“Hi..” He responds before kissing you. “Tonight was perfect. I’m glad that I made the decision to invite you out tonight.”

“I’m glad you did too.. Or else I’d be here–alone… I never liked Valentine’s Day.”

“Eh, it’s okay..” He shrugs his shoulders. “You haven’t missed out on much..”

You giggle and turn over so that you’re resting on top of him. “You, Jacob Thomas, are a beacon of light that I get the pleasure of seeing every day.”

“Will you be my girlfriend?” He blurts out.

You smile and eagerly nod your head. “I thought you’d never ask.”

__________________________________________________

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