#I started playing a few weeks ago this is canon right

[fallenasleepyetagain]

#I started playing a few weeks ago this is canon right #I had this image in my head for DAYS and I’m so glad it came out perfectly #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland mc #twst mc #malleus draconia #lilia vanrouge #haha jonathan #yeah #snrk #suggestive #? #idk

[honeyhoshi]

you do it naturally

summary: the hiding, the secrets, and staying back to watch him shine has never been an issue. until today.

it’s the night before the biggest show of his life, but it’s soonyoung's turn to show her that he’s her biggest fan.

this is a part of the playlist universe

genre: social media au/trad fic hybrid, solo idol au, celebrity x non-celebrity

wordcount: 4,606

pairing: solo idol!hoshi x afab!reader

warnings: discussions about self-esteem issues, body image/weight, feelings of jealousy, plenty of frustrated tears, afab reader, female anatomy, fingering, squirting, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, crying during sex (good!!), dirty talk (lovingly), pussy drunk hoshi (canon), implied chubby/bigger reader

author's notes: unfortunately i am horribly in love with hoshi so this is my humble contribution to his smut tag

As someone whose life revolved around sugar, butter, and flour, this was a new world. The tension in the air is palpable and the flurry of activity is so different from the kind of rush you’re used to. You’re nearly tripping over your feet trying to catch up to the member of the staff who's been sent to assist you. This must be so out of their scope of work, it's almost embarrassing how clueless you are to all of this.

It’s been three years since you started dating Soonyoung, and while you’ve never missed one of his shows in Seoul, this is your first time attending one of his rehearsals. He’s notorious for being laser focused and demanding of his team, making sure everyone remembered their collective goal of an amazing show. You never wanted to get in the way of that or to be considered a distraction. 

In fact, that’s always how you’ve operated as his girlfriend. You understand where you stand, what your role is, and when it’s time to work, you will stand back and let him shine.

But when you make it to the front of the stage, taking a seat close to Soonyoung’s managers after giving them a friendly smile, you can’t help the wave of pride that comes over you as you take everything in. The stage is massive, the largest Soonyoung’s ever had, and over thirty dancers are on stage with him as he adjusts the blocking and tweaks steps.

Then he catches your eye.

His eyes disappear as he smiles and you can’t help but do the same. You fight off the urge to wave, wanting him to get back to what he’s doing knowing full well they have limited time to go over everything before resting for the evening. You can’t take your eyes off him though. Preparations for concerts usually take him away from you for weeks at a time, and with the scale of this one, you hadn’t seen each other in the flesh for a month.

Just seeing him in front of you now already makes you feel sated.

“Can we do another run of the new song with the pair choreo. We just want to see which works better,” the director calls from the tech booth.

“Nari-ssi, please come up. Everyone else, take 5,” the choreographer on stage with them calls into her mic.

Soonyoung had mentioned he was debuting a new song at the concert. It was something he and Jihoon had worked on last minute that he couldn’t stop talking about, wanting to drop hints but also saying he wanted it to be a surprise for when you would see it at the show. He had dropped the topic dead a few weeks ago.

Nari bounds up the stage with a glorious spring in her step, bare faced but glowing. Her practice clothes fit her like a glove and her overall vibe gives off the energy that she herself was an idol.

That ugly feeling starts to simmer in your stomach as what you suppose is the song starts to play. The intro is slow and sultry and the sweat in your palms starts to grow uncomfortable. Only an idiot wouldn’t understand the sensuality of this song from the get go.

The love of your life is standing right there but you can’t take your eyes off of Nari as she finds her blocking before the verse starts. Nari smiles at Soonyoung and makes a comment you can’t hear from your seat. You feel sick.

Soonyoung and Nari are facing each other with one of his hands on her chin, lifting her gaze to him. His other hand is resting on her slender hip and in a three count from their choreographer, they move in unison.

“Three, four, five, ‘oh baby, cause I’ da, da da!”

The MR only covers the backing vocals but still you know that’s Soonyoung’s crooning and matched with the way his and Nari’s hands and bodies move, you’re transfixed. Horribly.

You avert your eyes, unable to focus and try to play it off as replying to an urgent message, but you’re startled when you hear a loud “SOONYOUNG FOCUS!”

Your head flies up to find Soonyoung staring you down from the stage, eyebrows furrowed and looking, dare you say, nervous.

“We need to see how this is actually going to look like tomorrow, so please let’s put more effort into this. Poor Nari’s giving it her all, Nyoung-ah.”

Soonyoung tries to communicate with you wordlessly but your unwillingness to keep eye contact makes it difficult for Soonyoung to get whatever it is across.

The music plays back again and they return to their starting positions and you know he’s turned it On.

The look on his face, the focus in his eyes. This is what he looks like when he’s locked in, and when his body starts to move, everything falls away.

But Nari.

They move seamlessly, sensually, and just Right. She matches every beat, wave, and touch he gives her. And gives back that same sultry energy with a flick of her wrist, dip of her hip, and when she leans her head back on his shoulder, allowing him to move her body to the music.

You could never move like that. You could never fit in his arms like that. 

The song ends and the dancers around them hoot and jeer and Nari blushes as she and Soonyoung finally break their grazes, breathless.

They would never cheer for you like that.

This has never gotten to you this badly. Usually, the distance between the two of you allows you to compose yourself when things get muddled in your head, able to piece yourself together when the fear and insecurity claw up your throat. But your usual proximity is nonexistent and the gap has been closed.

Being with an internationally acclaimed artist meant busy schedules and only being able to squeeze in the littlest dates every now and then. You had time to prepare for those, give yourself the pep talk of It’s been three years. If he wanted you gone, he’d have said something by now.

In preparation for the show you two had made prior plans you would stay with him, an impromptu long weekend “getaway” you had put in at work almost 3 months ago. But now it feels like you’re trapped. You’ve been short with him since his rehearsals wrapped and you’d met up with him in his private dressing room. You could only stomach to say surface level good jobs and you’re always so amazing!

There’s no way he hasn’t picked up on it yet because the air in the car was nonexistent. It was stifling and you could feel the waves of anger simmering underneath Soonyoung’s skin, just waiting to burst forth the moment the two of you were alone.

He knew something was wrong. He always knew. 

The ride up the elevator to his unit felt like the longest and shortest elevator ride of both of your lives and the second Soonyoung had let you into his place and locked the door behind him, you wanted to cry.

“Can we finally talk about this?” He starts. 

“What?”

“Babe.”

“Soonyoung.”

“Are we really doing this?” He sighs, exasperated.

You feel bad. But the sadness is gnawing at your head and heart and neither are working correctly.

“We’re not ‘doing’ anything, Soonyoung.” You say as you toe off your shoes and put down your bag before facing him.

And what a glorious face it is. He’s always been the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. He looks best like this, you think. Soft and free of makeup and tired and home.

“I’m sorry,” you start, face beginning to crumple and the sting of hot fresh tears threaten to spill.

“No, no, no, baby. Come on, come here,” Soonyoung’s scrambling to pull you into his arms, “Hey, hey, shhh. Look at me, talk to me.”

He pulls her face into his hands and tries to lift her gaze towards him. But she fights and tries to keep her head down.

“Baby, you have to talk to me, okay? You have to talk to me and tell me what I did wrong, hmm?” He respects your refusal to look at him and instead hugs your head to his chest, resting his chin atop the crown of your head.

Soonyoung wraps his other hand around your shoulders and maneuvers the two of you to lay on the couch, You’re still sobbing, large tears falling from your eyes and dampening the shirt he’s wearing.

When he moves to lay down on one of your favorite spots to cuddle in his home, you freeze in his arms, sobs stopping and shoulders going rigid. You push yourself off of him, hands going up to brush the tears off the face.

“No, no, I’m too heavy, I'll crush you.” It is almost business-like how you snap back into this cold tone.

Soonyoung stops, sits up straight, “What are you talking about?”

You groan, “Soonyoung, I don’t want to get into it. Please, you’ve had a long day, tomorrow is going to be—“

“No,” he cuts you off, “We don’t get to talk about tomorrow until we talk about today. Until we talk about what’s going on right now.”

“Soonyoung—I just. I don’t know how to talk about this. I’m just blowing things out of proportion. It’s nothing, I swea—“

“It isn’t nothing, though, is it?” He says, softer now. He reaches up for your hand, “You’re upset. You’ve been upset since I saw you after rehearsals. We have to talk about this, baby. We promised each other we’d talk things through.”

Your eyes sting again, a fresh batch of tears ready and threatening to make their appearance. That sharp feeling in your nose is there, any second now.

“Tell me how I can make it better, baby.”

The dam breaks and you fall boneless into Soonyoung’s embrace. You straddle his lap and wraps your arms around him, pressing the two of you chest to chest.

You bury you face in Soonyoung’s neck and let out a shuddering sob.

“I’m sorry, I’m being so, so immature and so unreasonable. You didn’t do anything,” you say, still slightly unintelligible from the tears.

“You’ve never done anything that’s made me sad or angry, Soonyoung. It’s me, it’s me and my stupid brain.”

“Hey, hey, no. Please please don’t say that, hmm? Let’s work this out together,” Soonyoung coos.

“I-i-i just felt so horrible, Soonyoung!” You finally cry, “She looked so beautiful and perfect and just so RIGHT in your arms and God, the way you two moved and how everyone watched the two of you.”

Soonyoung pulls away, grasping you face in his hands and finally locking eyes with you.

“I know I said I’m okay keeping this a secret and keeping everything simple and under wraps, and it’s fine! I promise, it really isn’t that.”

“Then what is it, baby?”

You’re quiet for a bit as Soonyoung traces the path of your tears with his thumbs, wiping them away.

“I’ll never be able to do what she can. Nari. I’ll never look like her or act like her or move like her. I can’t even dance with you without looking like a fool.”

Soonyoung feels his heart sink. His own eyes start to grow bleary and when he blinks a tear falls to his cheek. He drops his head to your chest and breathes you in.

“I’m sorry—“

“Oh no, Soonyoung it isn’t yo—“

“I’m sorry that things have gotten this far that you’ve grown to feel that way. I’m sorry because I know in some way or form all of this has become that and I didn’t catch it.”

When he lifts his head, tear tracks mark his pretty face and his nose is red.

“But you have to know,” he starts, eyes very serious, and not daring to look away from you, “You have to know that you are everything. You are everything to me. You’re even more than that.”

“And we are going to dance. Oh we are going to dance all the time. I am going to dance with you in the kitchen when we’re waiting for focaccia to bake, we are going to dance in the bedroom when we change the sheets, and we are going to dance when I marry you. And everyone will have their eyes on you and they will clap and cheer because just look at the woman I love.”

“Soonyoung—“

He stands with a start and you instinctively wrap your arms around him, elbows hooking over his shoulders. His hands are under your thighs, fingers pressing into the soft flesh. He’s carrying you into his room.

The lights automatically flicker on as he enters and kicks the door closed behind you, “In fact, baby, why don’t we start now hmm?”

“What, start what?”

He grins and any semblance of sadness has vanished from his face. He smiles and something in your heart is elated.

“Dancing, of course.”

Soonyoung is known in the industry as an ace — able to sing, rap, compose, choreograph, and above all things, dance. And dance with you he does.

The way he can make your body move is unexplainable because once he placed you at the center of his bed, he’d strummed at your body, mouthed at your pulse and had gotten you out of your top and jeans before you could even fully comprehend.

His mouth is hot on yours and he breathes in your air as soon as you exhale and you’re growing lightheaded as his hands continue to undress you. In an attempt to get some air in both your lungs, he pulls away to frantically tear his shirt over his head, not daring to take his eyes off you. He flings it over his shoulder unceremoniously, not a care in the world where it lands and makes quick work of his sweatpants. 

“What, you thought you’d get lucky tonight?” You quip at him, “Even when you knew I was feeling tilted?

He’d gone commando.

“Good mood, bad mood, whatever the fuck mood, I want you,” he laughs as dives back in to kiss you.

His hands are everywhere, like he doesn’t know what and where to touch, wanting to feel you everywhere before settling on the thickness of your thighs. He spreads your legs slightly so he could slot himself in between them, cock pressed perfectly to your center. 

And then he grinds. The head of his cock nudges perfectly at your clothed clit and you let out a mewl.

“There you go, let me hear you,” he groans into your ear, “Y’sound so good for me, sweetheart.”

“Soonyoooouung,” you can’t control the drawn out moan of his name. After everything you’re pent up and everything feels too much already.

He lets his mouth trail wet, open mouthed kisses from your jaw to your neck as his hands busy themselves undoing the hook of your bra. He scrambles to get it off of you and immediately pulls one nipple in his mouth, nipping and soothing it with a slow lave of his tongue.

He grips your other breast in his palm and squeezes, biting his lip at how your flesh molds to his touch.

“Fuck your tits are fucking perfect.”

This man was groping and grinding against you, and you blush as he compliments your breasts.

He continues kissing down the valley between your breasts and you hold your breath as he starts pressing his lips onto your stomach. It dips and springs back as he moves and your eyes zero in on the deeper colored lines of your stretch marks. There are more on your thighs to match.

But he makes no comment. 

He instead groans whenever he stops to suck a bruise and to run his tongue over the mark he’s made. 

“You’re so,” he starts, almost breathless, “You’re everything.” He laughs at his own inarticulate thoughts before hooking his thumbs into the elastic of your underwear.

He pulls them off and moves back up to press a deep kiss to your mouth, “I want to make you come three times, love.”

“What?” You’re dazed.

His right hand moves down to trace your ass and hook under your knee so he can spread you open.

“First, I’m going to fuck you open on my fingers,” he breathes, “then when you’re nice and wet and open for me, I want you to sit on my face, alright?”

With all his talk distracting you, you’re suddenly startled when you feel his thumb on your lower lips, starting to spread you apart.

“Then when you’ve come all over my face, I’m going to fuck my come into you, just how you like it. Right, baby?”

He slips in two fingers into you with no warning and you keen, high and wanton and uncontrollable.

Soonyoung is rough and quick when he fingers you and no matter how slow and sensual the lovemaking is, this will always be fast, hard, and messy.

While one hand is busy pumping two fingers into you, the other pinches your clit and quickly rubs, wanting your first orgasm to come as quickly as possible.

Your lower lip is close to bleeding as you try to keep your voice down but Soonyoung only chuckles when he sees your attempts at restraint.

“Baby we’re soundproofed in here. Make all the noise you want.”

You want to slap at his chest playfully at least, get him to feel some semblance of shame, but just as you try to make some quick remark, his fingers brush that spot inside of you and he presses down hard.

You’re unable to hold in the scream that rips through your throat as his arm flexes and he roughly thrusts his fingers in and out of you.

You clench your eyes shut as you finally let him have your first release. It’s almost explosive and you spill messily all over his fingers and arm, his other hand making a bigger mess, spraying drops of your release letting them fly further.

Breathing comes hard but he’s already pulling out of you and moving your body around until you’re on your knees.

Soonyoung lays on his back and tugs at your hands to grip at his headboard, “Fuck I’ve wanted this for so long.”

“Soonyoung, what if—“

“If you want to stop, we’ll stop. Just say the word,” he says, propping himself up with his elbow.

“You have to do the same,” you say shakily, still trying to get your bearings after the mind blowing first orgasm.

“Unlikely, but you know I’ll tell you everything, love.”

And just like that he lays back again, looking more eager than you could have ever imagined. You kneel over his chest and slowly inch upwards before lowering yourself over his mouth.

Soonyoung’s always loved eating you out. He loves when sex is wet and messy and loud. He loves the taste of you and making so much noise while he’s pressed up against your pussy it almost seems like he’s the one getting release.

Every flex and curl of his tongue has you whimpering and you can’t help the way you throw your head back as his nose nudges at your clit, still sensitive from your first orgasm.

He coaxes this second one slower but it hits you just as strongly as he continues to mouth at your core even when you’re crying and shaking from the sensitivity. You almost topple off the bed as you climb off Soonyoung to lay back next to him on the bed.

You turn your head to Soonyoung and the entirety of his lower face is wet with your release and your face burns. But Soonyoung is aglow with arousal and just so much love.

He coaxes your mouth to meet his own and it is a reprieve from how quickly he moved for you to reach your high twice in such a short period of time.

You can taste yourself on his mouth but it makes you groan as his tongue pushes its way to mingle with your own.

Despite the desperation at which you both moved, this is slow and quiet. Just you lips moving against each other and the sheets rustling fills the space.

Soonyoung pushes himself off the bed cautiously, desperate to keep his lips on you as he positions himself between your thighs.

Just like that a switch flips and the urgency to have him starts once more. He pressed his cock against your entrance and let the underside slide against your wet cunt. It offers you little relief, the friction hardly enough to get you there.

He pulls away and brings one hand to your face as the other holds him over your body.

Soonyoung’s hooded lids and glazed eyes are a sight to behold. His hair is damp and the shorter strands that frame his face are plastered onto his forehead. There’s a bead of sweat that’s clinging to the cut of his jaw and you ache to press your mouth to it. 

His thumb traces the curve of your cheek, the plumpness of your lower lip, and slowly he’s pressing the finger between your teeth. You press your tongue against the pad of his thumb and wrap your lips around the finger, and suck.

God, I love this man. I will always only love this man.

“I love you,” he gasps as he finally presses in and sinks into you.

Any other day and it would be embarrassing how close you both are to the edge, but you both know that his evening was far from normal. Your heart is hammering in your chest so hard you feel like it’ll rip itself out of its confines. Everything feels too good and too much and you want it. You want this every single day if you could.

Soonyoung sits up and uses both hands to grip onto your hips and to brace himself. What he does next makes your head spin.

“I’m so close, baby. You gotta say it.” He stands on his knees, changing the angle slightly. Then he lifts your hips just right and the noise you let out as his cock sinks into you perfectly is completely pitiful.

“Say it.”

“Soonyoung!” you cry out. It’s a sob, really. Depraved, almost, in the desperation and the raw fucking feeling thats burning through your nerves.

“Just say it baby, you know the words. Say it and I’ll make good on the very last fucking promise I made tonight,” he says, the edge in his voice making itself known. He wanted to make this evening soft, slow, and for every movement to have meaning. But he has always been hungry.

Hungry for the stage, bigger venues, brighter lights, more challenging steps, and of course for you.

He breathes in through his nose sharply and tries to exhale slowly and paced, “Just say it baby, I know you can.”

“You’re mine.”

“That’s it. I’m yours. I’ll always be yours.”

The years of precise practice and this industry expertise has made the man you love into the most exquisite lover.

He thrusts quick and deep and the undulations of his hips have you seeing stars and tearing up once more. He’s everywhere, in your eyes, head, lungs, heart and you’ll be damned if you ever let him go.

The insecurities and the problems and the people will always be there, they will always cause uncertainties but this is one thing you will always be sure of. You will always be sure of him.

Soonyoung comes with a cry of your name and the most beautiful gasp against your mouth as he pumps you full of his cum, pushing you over the edge and he swallows the cry you let out.

He pulls away to press breathless kisses against your face and any other part of you he can get his lips on mumbling, “I’m yours, I’m yours. I’ll always only be yours.”

It starts slowly, warm, and comfortable. The rustling of the sheets and the hot wet press of his mouth slowly coaxing you into that soft space of barely awake, but able to slip back to sleep if you stayed quiet enough.

“I gotta go, baby,” is Soonyoung’s whisper, cheek resting atop your head. 

You hum in response, not fully coherent to put together words after he’d pulled endless strings of moans and cries from your lips the night prior.

He presses a kiss to your hair, “Didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye. I’ll see you tonight, gorgeous.”

You feel the way the bed dips and the blankets move as he goes to stand. He slips on his shoes and, unable to leave so easily, moves back towards the bed and kneels by where your head rests on a pillow.

“I love you, think about what I said last night, okay?”

You tried to keep yourself collected, keep the frantic energy sizzling in your veins at bay. Soonyoung had put on the show of his life, something that happens just a few times in a performer’s life, you’re sure. Pride had swelled so grandly in your heart. You had been so lovestruck watching him that it felt like he could see you whenever he had turned his head in your general direction.

Backstage is still abuzz from the end of the show. You’re sure people are still running around making sure the egress goes smoothly, that all the fans are able to exit the stadium safely. But everything comes second the moment you hear his voice.

“Has she been escorted from her se—“

You can’t help it. You’re so happy, so excited, and so in love with him. You’re running toward him. He’s changed out of his encore outfit and into a sweater—oversized the way he likes them— and sweatpants. He could slip into bed any second now it looks like.

“Soonyoung!” You call out, stealing his attention.

He turns to you and the most breathtaking smile spreads on his face and you throw yourself into his arms. He catches you and you wrap your legs around his slender waist.

“It was amazing, you’re so amazing. Congratulations, oh my god!” You’re blabbing, you can feel your mouth going a million miles an hour but you can’t stop.

You pull him into a crushing hug as he gently puts your feet back on the ground, keeping your arms around his neck.

“And that new song, Jesus you weren’t kidding, it’s so good and the choreo! The way you moved! You changed the choreo last minu—“ In a split second, his lips are on yours and you can’t help but smile against him.

You break away, breathless when you remember, “Soonyoung, everyone can see.”

He gives you a silly quizzical look, “Only thinking about that now and not when you jumped into my arms?”

You’re speechless. He’s right.

“I’d be happy if everyone knew,” Soonyoung says simply and pulls you in again for another kiss.

When you pull away, you suck in a large breath and say, “Okay.”

There’s a small smile that he can’t hide as he asks, “Okay…? To what, exactly?”

You blush and bury your head in his chest. You want to while, he’s so annoying.

“To everything. To everything you said last night,” you mumble into his chest, trying to muster enough confidence to keep going.

“Okay, I’ll move in with you. Okay, I’ll tell all my friends about you. Okay, let’s make us public.”

-`✮´- if you've come this far, thank you. if you’d like to drop a like or reblog this, it would mean the world to this new author!

#frizzy fiction #hoshi x reader #hoshi smut #hoshi smau #hoshi imagines #soonyoung x reader #soonyoung scenarios #soonyoung smut #soonyoung imagines #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #seventeen scenarios

[rottiens]

SHADE OF BLUE | GŌJŌ SATORU

✮ WC. . 2.6k

✮ tags. . canon au, yan gōjō, fem reader, blood, fluff (?), the descriptions could imply that the reader is depressed (tho I don't think so), suggestive. 18+ mdni. divider creds: cafekitsune.

Your vision is tinged with red, just like the sunset that paints the clouds above your head. However, this color is not as intense as the fresh blood that stains Satoru's hands, part of his arms and blue shirt. It seems that the violently inflicted wound caused some drops to reach his cheek, leaving a silhouette that would mimic the stroke of a wet brush. In the distance, as if planned, a bird squawked, causing your muscles to twitch as the cold breeze bites at your bare legs.

At first you fear for the blood being his but that doesn't make sense, you quickly cross out that idea.

"Wh-"

"May I come in?" his voice interrupts you, tired, raspy.

His white hair is wet like he's been running to get here or like he's been standing in the drizzle that started falling a few minutes ago.

"What happened?" Initially, the voice you hear is unfamiliar, echoing distorted in your eardrums.

"Please?" your fingers expose your unsure thoughts as you squeeze and cling to the doorknob. Satoru takes a fleeting glance at your chest made transparent by the pink fabric of the bathrobe hugging your figure, only to snap back into your eyes. "You're not afraid, are you?"

You take a deep breath of air; the rusty iron smell of blood stirs your insides. Finally, you exhale your doubts and push the door a little further to give him room and allow him to enter the cozy cabin, still with the thought hammering at the back of your neck that this is a mistake.

Satoru tilts his head down as he passes through the doorway, his long strides taking him straight into the heart of the cabin without pausing to look back. The cabin, which you rented to be close to the mountains and escape the horror your life had become a few weeks ago, has a rustic and cozy atmosphere, splashed with brown colors wherever you look.

The wooden floor creaks softly under Satoru's feet as they pause in front of the lit fireplace, while the dim light from the lamp overhead dances across his broad back and the walls.

Satoru turns to look at you. The tension from earlier when you opened the door seems to have disappeared from his face, his cheeks pale from the cold and his rose-tinted lips grateful that you have given him shelter.

"It's a cozy place." Satoru is playing with the silver ring on his finger as he holds your gaze. Your lungs empty, you should have known it wouldn't be so easy for him to explain what happened. With Satoru nothing is easy.

Your folded arms press closer to your chest, hiding your hard nipples from his all-seeing eyes.

"Thanks," is all you say in regards to his compliment because after all, why pretend this is a normal visit.

"That's funny. We could have both been here together."

A smile laden with irony stretches your lips. Your arms fall to either side of your body showing him your vulnerability. "It's funny indeed, considering it was you who broke up with me."

His laughter echoed with a sarcastic tone full of disdain, as if he was mocking the situation. "You know what…"

"Whose blood is it, Satoru?" You get right to the point and he grins now, combing back strands of hair that immediately take on the red color trapped in his fingers.

"I need a shower first." His long strides catch up to you as he slips past you, his eyes scanning you up and down undisguised before he turns his gaze back to the front. You call out his name turning on your heels only to catch up to see him disappear up the small steps that would take him toward the second floor and the bathroom. "Don't worry! I know where the bathroom is…after all, I was the one who sent you the pictures of the cabin, remember?"

You want to just sit there near the fireplace, feel its warmth on your hands, face. Sink your fingers into your forehead, massage your temples and finally wake up and realize that this is nothing but a dream… no! A nightmare. What was Satoru doing here? It was just one of dozens of questions bombarding your head, your temples beginning to throb with pain.

You command your feet to walk over the Persian carpet, its soft cells massaging your feet guiding you towards the steps previously trodden by your ex-lover. As you enter the hallway the rope that suddenly began to bind your temples like a rubber band tightens with more intensity, the floor is covered by the trail of his dirty clothes: shirt, pants, socks, boxers….

In front of the bathroom and thanks to the half-open door, you hear the water running. Your fingers push unwillingly the door relieving in front of you a completely naked man smelling the shampoo you had left on top of the sink, even without looking at you, Satoru could recognize your scent at least ten kilometers away so seeing him smiling when you stand still in the door frame is not a surprise for you.

"Satoru."

"I was missing hearing my name in your voice." His long eyelashes close as he utters these words, fluttering as he squeezes the bottle of shampoo to release the scent of coconut and vanilla. "Damn." Smells like you. His grip on the plastic bottle grows tighter before he finally sets it aside. He contemplates himself in the mirror for a moment before speaking again. "Come closer," he tells you, disguising his command as a request.

You don't know if it's because you don't feel like fighting that draws you toward him like a sailor to a siren's song, or if you really miss him and would be willing to do anything he asked of you to have his attention on you again. The only thing you recognize at this moment is his presence, which makes you feel overwhelmed and nervous, just like before when you were together.

Satoru turns to acknowledge your presence. "I asked you a question earlier." He stretches out his hand, and though your body tightens from the inside, you don't move a muscle. "Are you afraid of me, angel?" His fingers, which were hovering over your collarbone without yet touching you, descend along your sternum, brushing a nipple that hardens further by his presence as you try to pretend nothing affects you.

"No."

"Good." Satoru licks his lips. "Because I would never hurt you." As he continues to amuse himself with his fingers making circles you can't feel on your chest, your attention focuses on the details of his face; his pale skin and the red spot on his cheek that breaks the harmony of the color palette. "Now. Ask me."

You weren't prepared to hear what she had to say. Whatever his answer or justification, you could feel the weight of guilt of being complicit. Still, you dare to ask directly, "Whose blood is it?"

"I had to clean up," he replies with an exhausted sigh, then pulling his hand away from you and causing you to whimper almost like a wounded puppy. "The higher-ups," he finally adds, punching you in the lower stomach.

Immediately, something acidic pours into you, burning your insides, your esophagus, filling your mouth with saliva.

"Satoru?" you mumble barely audible, horror marking your frown and a brief pout warped by dismay. You needed him to tell you it was a joke. He took the hem of the blindfold and pulled it over his head like a bandana, only to let it rest beside you over the sink.

"Hm?" He's not looking at you, and you desperately look for him to continue the conversation.

"Did you kill them?" It's the question you don't want him to answer, even though deep down you already know the answer; you just need confirmation.

"Come with me."

Instead of answering your question, Satoru entwines his still-cold fingers with yours and guides you toward the shower that continues to spill water onto the tiles. You, on the other hand, don't move a muscle; your feet cling to the floor like roots as adrenaline floods through your bloodstream.

"Did you?" you insist.

"Just a few," he replies with the same relaxed expression.

"Just a few?! You can't…"

"Oh, but I did. I can, as a matter of fact. And I'll do it again if they dare speak to my future wife like that again."

In a matter of seconds, a lot happens. His fingers squeeze yours, proving to you that this was real; unlike the dreams and nightmares you've had about him over the past few days. His blue eyes finally stay locked on yours, burning your heated self with their icy presence as he tries to decipher what exactly is going on in your mind. You stumble over your own breath as you struggle to inhale deeply, rushing oxygen to your brain.

Something warm spills down your cheeks, descends into the depths of your belly and finally settles in your pelvis, riotous and intense, as subtle as the wings of a butterfly.

"I don't understand," is all you manage to say, your brain trying to process hundreds of stimuli at once. "Did you do it for me?" Guilt. Guilt.

You should feel guilty, your inner morale accuses you.

Once again, Satoru ignores you and pulls your hand to walk you towards the shower. This time you don't insist on standing still; your legs obediently respond by automatically moving toward the glass cubicle, giving his fingers permission to remove your clothing. Your tense body is grateful for the warmth of the water that immediately drenches you, for before he came to break what little stability you had managed to create, you were about to step into the shower.

For his part, he grabs the sponge and offers it to you, and it takes you a few seconds to accept it amidst the disheveled blinking that chases away the tears that threaten to spill. Then he drops a stream of the liquid soap and turns his back to you.

Moles and freckles hug it, from his broad, strong shoulders to the small of his back. Memories lash you; you remember tracing those moles when neither of you could sleep, you remember kissing them, you remember your fingernails creating red moons on it.

You carefully round his waist, your forehead rests right in the middle of his shoulder blades and the rain from the shower now falls directly on your head, making it a little difficult to breathe, but you stay there, tucked in your safe place. You remain silent like that for a while, feeling the warmth of the water wash away the dirt into the plumbing as everything he has said sorts itself out in your head like a jigsaw puzzle.

Last month, your life and everything you knew as stable came crashing down after a mission gone wrong. The bloodied faces of the civilians who died because of you haunt you every so often at night. This resulted in your demotion in rank as a sorceress and a six-month suspension. No missions. You couldn't set foot in the academy, which equaled no financial stability, not being able to help your parents pay for the house, much less pay for your own apartment.

You thought things couldn't get any worse until, a few days later, your boyfriend of two years broke up with you, leaving you adrift in a sea of unpleasant emotions that you couldn't control. So having Satoru here in front of you after days of not going out to see sunlight and having no contact with other human beings, feeling his presence under your body is overwhelming, almost unreal. You allow yourself to sob quietly, being cradled and coddled in his arms as he turns you to press your body much closer to his.

He cooing to you, murmuring sweet words that only he can say and that you long to hear.

"I'm sorry I left you when you needed me most. I had to pretend that the disappearance of a couple of higher-ups wasn't related to you. I would never put you in danger," he says once you've finished your shower and the jet of water has stopped.

Satoru holds your cheeks, looking at you as if you were the most precious thing to him. Inevitably, more tears spill down your cheeks and he hurries to wipe them away with his thumbs.

"Sh. I'm here now," he murmurs, keeping his gaze fixed on you, on your lips. "Can I kiss you?"

Your throat is still in a lump, but you nod slowly giving him the permission he needs and Satoru doesn't wait to place his mouth on yours taking you into a trance where you feel only his soft lips molding yours, purring as he pushes his mouth against yours. You feel him exploring every space, roaming every nook and cranny as the kiss intensifies accompanied by a soft chant of moans that grow louder each time.

Your ribs are pressed into his palms, his fingers defining the contours as he slowly pushes you against the wet wall.

"I missed you," he admits between kisses, finally pulling away to rest on the line of your neck and leaving a mark with his teeth.

. . .

Silently, Satoru guides you into the room, holding your hand the whole time. He helps himself by the dim light of the night lamp to move naked around the room. Seeing him act the way he used to, when everything was fine, fills your chest with nostalgia.

After a moment, he gets an extra towel from your suitcase along with essential oils that you always carry with you and with a kiss on the forehead followed by a brief giggle, he asks you to sit on the floor next to the bed to help you dry your hair. It's the first time in a long time that you don't have to worry about feeling guilty or sad, because all you can feel is him, his fingers, the way he interrupts his massages on your skull to kiss your face.

Satoru holds you against his chest all night. Your naked bodies melt as one under the silk sheets, he presses you against him as if he fears you will run away. His legs entwined like vines keep you safe.

In the middle of the night satoru turns his back on you releasing you from his prison and letting you be the one to protect him now, you circle his waist and hide your face in his silky clean hair, the strands tickle your face but you refuse to move away from the safety this moment brings you, the smell of your shampoo on him has never smelled so good.

"Satoru." You call out to him in a whisper so low you wonder if you've woken him. You don't want to interrupt his sleep and are surprised when he mumbles a Hm? Are you okay? "I didn't mean to wake you," you reply.

"I wasn't sleeping." This time he turns his body to look at you, holding his face with one hand while the other is on your waist, keeping you still. From the tired look and the slight dark circles under his eyes that begin to form, you wonder when was the last time he had a good night's sleep. "What's wrong?"

What you're about to say to him makes you embarrassed for some reason.

"You mentioned you wouldn't let anyone talk to your wife like that…" you blurt out the sentence, letting it float into the room unfinished. Hearing your words immediately makes him smile and you feel his fingers tighten on your skin.

"Yeah. I said that," he states proudly.

"You were serious?"

"There's nothing that would make me happier. So yes, you will one day be my wife when you're ready."

You are driven by emotion to throw yourself on top of him, pressing your body to his and melting into an embrace that neither of you wants to break first.

notes. yeah, he kills people but he's my little meow meow and have you considered that he's a good husband too? yeah that's what I thought.

#wr #jjk drabbles #gojo drabbles #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #cw yandere #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu Kaisen x

[haunt3dh3art]

Heyoo! If requests are open then can i ask for jealous yandere ghost with an s/o. Man would shred the person like chedder cheese😭😭

im so sorry for getting to this so late! it got buried lol but omg i don’t even want to think about what ghost would do🤭🤭 anyways here you are!! female pronouns used throughout

˚ . ✦ . ˳ · ˖ ✶ ⋆ . ✧̣̇☽༺♰༻☾✧̣̇ . ⋆ ✶ ˖ · ˳ . ✦ . ˚

| Carved | Jealous!Yandere Simon “Ghost” Riley X Reader

Synopsis: Ghost hears multiple rumours of you and an unknown recruit being seen on base together. He decides to act.

t/w's: death threats, graphic descriptions of violence, canon-typical behaviour, Ghost isn't really in the right headspace throughout the fic, obsessive and possessive behaviour throughout, FEMALE pronouns used, male lover, very brief reference to menstrual cycle, stalking, lil mention of sex, Ghost flat out refuses to call your lover by his name, calls him "it" most of the time lol

˚ . ✦ . ˳ · ˖ ✶ ⋆ . ✧̣̇☽༺♰༻☾✧̣̇ . ⋆ ✶ ˖ · ˳ . ✦ . ˚

Soap made a thoughtless joke at mess a few weeks ago about you and your new "boy toy" that made Ghost freeze at the table.

"She's a good lass, but working out her "play" muscles, wouldn't ya say, Gaz?" The Scotsman laughed, playfully nudging his friend's shoulder.

Gaz snickered while Soap had to clutch his belly. Price gave a disapproving look to the lads.

"Give it up, boys, leave her alone."

Soap looked at the Captain with an innocent look on his face. "Oh, c'mon! I was messing wi'ya!"

Price shook his head.

Meanwhile, next to him, Ghost went rigid. He had been keeping an eye on you for a while. How could he miss something as important as this?

Ghost's blood relentlessly pumped to his head, making him feel like it was going to implode. The world had started to turn upside down.

The soldier cursed himself for being so ignorant. He had your schedule committed to memory, your address back home, phone number, your family members and even was starting to learn the timings of your menstrual cycle, but he hadn't noticed a potential lover. It's the most significant things he had a fucking blind spot for.

Holding his plate, Ghost rose from the dinner bench.

"Where ya goin', Ghost? Ya barely touched your scran!" Soap called out after him.

Ghost waved him off, scraped his food into the bin and put his plate on a cleaning rack. He left the mess hall with a dark cloud swarming around him.

---

Ghost wasn't seen for hours.

He had infiltrated your room and stolen your laptop without you realising. He already knew your password and logged in.

Pictures upon pictures of you and this intruder were plastered all over the device and a photo of you two together was the wallpaper. Ghost felt sick to his stomach and could feel his throat start to burn. He stormed through every photo in your gallery, read all of your messages and even saw some.. photos that made his cock stir.

You made a different kind of heat rise to his belly every time he saw you, but actually seeing some of your bare body instead of imagining it made his hands shake a little. To feel his body against yours, his hands around your perfect tits, just the slightest graze of his teeth against your neck..

Soon. Not soon enough, though.

---

The next time he saw you, you were in the on-site gym, running on a treadmill with your new.. thing.

Ghost hadn't learnt it's name, knowing it wasn't going to be around for much longer.

He decided to lift weights for his session and stayed in the gym until you both left. When you walked past the silently raging solider, you smiled and waved.

Ghost felt himself become Simon for a brief moment, letting his heart feel like an inferno in his chest as you acknowledged him. He knew such a small amount of attention from you was pathetic to react so intensely too, but he couldn't stop himself.

When you finally both left, Ghost flipped like a switch and turned back to the cold-hearted bastard he was used to being.

He let you get ahead for a bit and then left the gym with a towel over his shoulder. He'd brewed up a plan while lifting that was guaranteed to get the creature out of the picture and move you closer to his arms.

As soon as nightfall came, Ghost shed every innate trace of his human nature and embraced the waging inferno inside him.

---

Ghost went to dinner the next day as usual.

The boys exchanged banter and swapped stories as they always did. Ghost ate everything off his plate to avoid suspicion and cleaned up after himself. Then, he walked over to where your partner was sat.

You weren't there by some grace of the gods and Ghost said a silent prayer.

The soldier was well aware how threatening he looked sometimes, but he lived up to his name. Ghost blended into the crowd effortlessly, and cleared his throat when he got to the table.

Your partner turned around and flinched, making Ghost supress a snide chuckle. The man had to raise his eyes to meet Ghost's and scoffed.

"What do you want?"

"I want to talk. Outside," Ghost gestured with his head, keeping his voice low.

The man laughed, rising from his seat. His friends started to laugh and made sounds like they were teenagers. "Fine, let's go."

Ghost led the unsuspecting soldier out of the canteen and down the hallway to a hidden cargo bay. He knew no one would be here and once the soldier had walked into the room, Ghost locked the door.

He slowly turned around, cracking his knuckles.

"Look," The guy said as he raised his hands. "I'm sure we can work this out, whatever it is."

Ghost took a step forward and it took a step back.

"Say a fucking prayer while I'm giving you the chance."

Ghost didn't give him a chance to say anything more; he didn't want to hear another sound but screaming and the flat packing sound of flesh hitting flesh.

The first punch Ghost threw made a sickening crack against the other soldier's jaw. One tooth was already on the floor, and Ghost planned for many more to fall out.

Ghost had the soldier on the floor within seconds, relentlessly smashing his fist into your lover's face, not stopping as he began to choke on blood.

Even through all of the animalistic violence, Ghost could saw flashes of your gentle, soft face in front of his eyes. You smiled sweetly in the haze.

The images only made him punch harder.

For you. You..

"For Y/N.. Y/N.."

He muttered your name under his breath constantly like a madman, like you were his lifeline, his call to arms. At his beck and call. You only needed to say the word and he would gladly do this over and over and over again for you, to anyone, for any reason.

The soldier gripped his arms onto Ghost's with a vice grip, leaving raw, bruising fingerprint marks behind. It would be the last trace of your lover and it would never be seen.

Ghost didn't stop punching even when his opponent was dead. He lay limp on the floor, but darker shades of red kept on creeping around the edges of Ghost's vision, spurring him on.

---

Ghost returned to the canteen hall with a fresh set of clothes on, but a distant look in his eye. As he sat down at his table, he saw you looking for your lover.

Eventually, you gave up and sat down.

He went on to visit you later that night.

---

Ghost knocked your door lightly, a foreign touch when compared to earlier.

You opened the door in a long t-shirt, obviously about to go to bed. "Ghost.." You started, but yawned. "Sorry, what's up?"

Ghost shed his skin, slowly becoming Simon once again.

"I know you're worried about your.. partner, but I promise you that it will work out. If you need me.."

Nodding, you leant against your doorframe. "I'm sure he'll turn up somewhere. Thank you for looking out for me, though."

You smiled and Simon felt his heart beat faster. "If you don't want to sleep on your own tonight, I'll sleep on the floor."

A stupid, stupid fucking offer. Who says that?

"I'd like that, actually. But I've got a chair you can sleep on, would be better than the floor for your back, I think."

Simon felt like he was floating as he walked into your room. It's not like it was his first time, but it was his first time with permission.

He shut the door silently behind him and watched as you fished a second pillow and blanket out of your wardrobe. "I brought these from home," You said proudly. "The chair I stole from the library, that's why it's got cushions. Soap helped me with the heist in the middle of the night."

Simon chuckled, taking the pillow from you. You started laughing too and he watched creases appear in the edges of your eyes. It was nice to see you forget about..

He shook his head and moved closer to you, touching your arm with his free hand.

"Y/N.."

You looked into his eyes, hypnotised. "Mm?"

Simon held on to your arm a little tighter and pulled you towards him. He threw the pillow onto your bed and leaned down by your ear.

"You have no idea about the things I would do for you, have done for you, even."

His voice went impossibly low and sent a shiver down your spine. The hairs on your arms stood up on end.

"You don't have a fucking clue of the things I have done to get this close to you."

Simon raised his mask with one hand and kissed the shell of your ear.

He spoke with deliberate precision and slowly, to burn his words onto your pretty head. He hoped you would never forget them.

"I am.. captured by you. The way you walk," He softly bit your ear and kissed over the mark it would leave. "The way you talk, the way you look, at me, especially."

He chuckled lowly, the sound reverberating through your soul.

"I am yours, and you are mine."

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#cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #simon riley #simon riley x reader #yandere simon riley x reader #cod ghost #cod modern warfare #cod mw ghost #cod x reader #cod x you #yandere ghost #yandere #cod

[whateverisbeautiful]

Hi! I just wanted to say that I discovered your top 30 Richonne list a few days ago and I've been down the meta rabbit hole you've so wonderfully crafted this entire week so far. I've cried and smiled so much reading them. Each post is just so beautiful.

I was reading one of your Reveling in Richonne posts this morning for episode 10 x 04 where Michonne talked with Ezekiel about how much she still misses Rick and loves him so much and that she misses his walk and now I can't get over it. Now I'm thinking about all those times when she looked at Rick walking towards or away from her pre- and post-canon where she would be thinking the man I'm crushing on, then eventually the man I love is so sexy. Is there any chance you can do a post speculating those moments where they are both checking each out specifically regarding Michonne checking out Rick's walk?

Also I cant wait for you to do a Reveling in Richonne continuation based on TOWL 👀? So excited! Lastly I just need you to know that my Richonne withdrawals have been pretty bad now that TOWL has concluded. So discovering your blog and your metas have been giving me my whole entire life and I just want to say thank you and that I really appreciate all the thought and beauty you put into your posts. You're amazing!!!! 👏🏽 👏🏽 🤩 💖

Hi @rct85 ! I'm so encouraged by your message, thank you so much. 🥰 I love that this richonne reveling rabbit hole could help with the richonne withdrawal. I’m feeling it too and really miss seeing them on screen each week. 🥲 Thank goodness we were spoiled with years of richonne content that I’ve just been playing on a loop in my head. The second I'm finally able, I'm looking forward to going all out and writing about every golden moment from TOWL. The towl thoughts and observations are abundant lol.

And I really like that thought of highlighting the times that Michonne was looking at Rick and thinking this man I'm crushing on and later in love with is so sexy. I can definitely speculate on those moments and I've placed my extra self’s speculation right below. 😊⬇

I focused on Michonne specifically for this one because if I were to make a list of times Rick was looking at Michonne and thinking this woman I'm crushing on/in love with is so sexy it would be wildly long because it's every single moment he and Michonne are on screen together. Like truly from TWD 3.06 at the fence to the TOWL 1.06 finale Rick looks like he's thinking that. 😋 While Michonne can be a little more subtle than Slick Rick, she's still head over heels for her husband and I think I pinpointed some clear moments where she was noting how fine her man is and appreciating that walk. 😏 Thanks again for reading my posts and for this kind message! 💗

Moments Michonne Was Checking Out Her Man’s Walk/Thinking Rick Is Fine 😋

Exhibit A:

It started real early if you ask me. 😌 At this point our Michonne had been abandoned by her only friend, unsuccessfully gaslit by the governor, chased down and shot by Merle, and passed out killing walkers at the prison fence. She’d been put through a whole lot in mind and body…but her eyes clearly still work just fine as she seems to be taking in this handsome stranger in front of her.

And sis is an observant person so I wouldn’t at all be surprised if she had a conscious thought that this man from the prison is attractive, even here in their first exchange. Thinking about how she described Maggie and the Governor based on appearances in this ep, I’d bet that had Michonne had to describe Rick this early, some type of good-looking adjective would‘ve been used.

(*Also the footnote for all of these bits of evidence is that Rick is absolutely captivated by her in each of these moments too 💯)

Exhibit B:

Clear is where that Richonne attraction was loud and on display from both of them. We don’t see Rick walk away in this scene at the end of the ep but uh Michonne does. 😊 And of course she likes what she sees with that lingering look and smile she gives. And all that car key shuffling - it’s giving Rick is pretty eager but maybe she is too 🤭

Exhibit C & D:

I put these two moments side by side because I love how similar they are in the way Rick walks up to her and the way Michonne smiles at him. To think one scene is during their early s4 crush era and the other is during their s7 honeymoon ep, just goes to show these two have been smitten a long long time and always will be. In both moments I know Michonne loves seeing his walk just like Rick loves seeing her smile.

Exhibit E:

As she observes Rick here, I think Michonne has a lot of thoughts going through her head, which naturally are deeper than just checking him out. On a larger level, she’s realizing that Rick has unique qualities that she loves and respects and recognizes in her own self. She saw firsthand the way Rick walks the walk when it comes to protecting his family and she’s fallen in love with him. But I think an appreciation for his literal walk can be included in those thoughts during this scene as she starts to slowly become more cognizant that she sees Rick as a lot more than just a friend.

Exhibit F (Pt. 1 & Pt. 2):

I may have forgot if this was a list of Michonne’s thoughts or mine with exhibit f lol. But I’m just gonna venture to say that she and I shared the same appreciation for Rick’s walk in that barn. It’s Season 5 Rick - of course Michonne was feeling a type of way about him. And she might not have agreed with him punching Aaron but I know she wasn’t mad at that walk.

Exhibit G:

Seeing Rick’s clean-shaven face for the first time was Michonne’s most blatant display of attraction towards him pre-canon and she was definitely noting how fine he is. And from my posts on the scene, it’s no secret how much I love this moment and it’s no secret how much these two were into each other. I also just added a later s5 moment of Rick seeing Michonne in the constable windbreaker for the first time because it gives a similar energy. It’s cute how Rick and Michonne both have such obvious attraction and intrigued reactions to seeing each other in ways they haven’t seen each other before.

(That’s also why I thought it was so funny and doomed that their plan was to pretend like they don’t know each other at the CRM because Richonne hasn’t been able to mask their blazing attraction to each other since season 3)

Exhibit H:

This is such a sweet moment and I always adore seeing the slightly bashful way Michonne can’t help but stare at her man and smile after their first night together. And the way Rick can sense her looking at him and then smiles and reaches for her. It gives me life. This had to make this list because I’m pretty sure “the man I love is so sexy” is one of the direct quotes from Michonne’s mind in this scene.

Exhibit I:

Even when injured Rick’s walk is hot and Michonne knows it. 😋 The scene above and a couple more in this episode were clear signs of Michonne admiring her man inside and out. They were both so cute and couply and in love in this ep and I’ll never get over it.

In The Ones Who Live…

Each of these towl moments deserves dissertations so I’ll wait to elaborate because dissertations are coming later on. But I still had to include them on this list because they’re prime examples of Michonne loving Rick’s walk and/or loving how sexy her husband is - with the last one being the pinnacle 😍

Exhibit J:

Exhibit K:

Exhibit L:

Exhibit M:

Exhibit NOPQRSTUVWXY&Z:

#richonne #richonne family #richonne list #thank you for giving me an opportunity to be extra again and go down memory lane 🙏🏽💖 #the ones who live #towl #rick x michonne

[suashii]

୨♡୧ SICK DELIGHT — dan heng x reader. vampire!dan heng. blood. reader has fairly long hair. suggestive. not canon compliant.

“are you sure you don’t want to go out? it’s dark now.” you look at dan heng over your shoulder. he’s stretched out across the mattress with an open book resting on his stomach, eyes closed and hands tangled in inky black strands of hair. he breathes out a sigh through his nose before letting his eyes flutter open. it takes no time at all for his vision to adjust. everything is sharper and more defined—even in the dimly lit room, it’s as if he can see everything. he’d think it was nice if the sensation wasn’t such an overwhelming change.

dan heng shakes his head lightly against the pillow; any harder and he’s sure he would be met with a fit of dizziness. it’s been some time since he last fed and the effects are beginning to catch up to him. his limbs feel heavy and he’s moving slower than usual but he tells himself that it’s preferable to the guilt that washes over him when you offer yourself as sustenance.

“okay. we can just watch a movie then,” you suggest, making your way from the dresser to join him on the bed. you plop down beside him, remote in hand, and start on your search for something to watch. 

recently, most of your nights have ended like this; dan heng declining your offer to venture outside the walls of your apartment and you finding an alternative way to entertain the both of you. you can’t blame him for his reluctance to leave. he hasn’t had much time to grow accustomed to his new circumstances.

it’s only been a few weeks since you found him curled up in one of the alleyways you pass on your way home from work. before that moment, dan heng was merely an acquaintance; someone you were familiar with but would barely consider a friend. still, seeing him in such a state pulled at your heartstrings. no matter how hard he weakly protested,  there was no way you could leave him there.

that’s how he ended up living with you.

he still can’t wrap his head around why you let him stay after finding out the truth.

after a couple more minutes of thoughtless scrolling, you turn on something similar to what you’ve noticed dan heng is interested in. music that accompanies the opening credits of the film fills the room once you press play. you glance over to the man next to you to find his eyes closed like they had been earlier.

“are you feeling okay?” you ask, a frown etched into your features.

your voice almost sounds far away despite your proximity and even though his perception of it is off, it’s enough to make him blink twice before meeting your eye. dan heng has to think back to what you said before he breathes out a reply. “hm? yeah.”

it wouldn’t take a genius to know that he wasn’t being truthful. looking back on the past few days, you come to realize that he’s been less mobile. even with the blackout curtains you installed, he hasn’t been wandering behind you like usual. the deviation from what he’s established as “normal” persists in this moment. it’s as if there’s a fog clouding his brain, getting in the way of his senses. there’s only one explanation that comes to your mind. “when’s the last time you fed?”

he turns his head on the pillow so that he’s looking at the ceiling. “i’m fine.”

“liar. and that’s not what i asked.” you’re almost positive that dan heng hasn’t left the apartment since you welcomed him and the last time he hesitantly accepted blood from you was more than seven days ago. “it’s been over a week, hasn’t it?”

you’re right, but dan heng doesn’t plan on telling you so, so he keeps his gaze locked on the ceiling. he may feel like shit now but isn’t willing to let some fatigue and lightheadedness lure him into leeching off of you.

even though you’re staring at him, dan heng refuses to look at you. you chew the inside of your cheek as you contemplate whether or not it’s reasonable for you to be so concerned for him. it doesn’t take more than a few seconds for you to decide to tell him what you’re thinking. “look, i don’t know a lot about vampires but going long periods of time without your life source can’t be good—especially since you’re so new to all of… this.”

you broadly gesture with your hands as if that’ll make your point any more apparent. either the motion or your words strike a cord in dan heng because he lifts his head from the cushion and sits up to face you. however, the uneasiness painted on his face is enough to tell you that he isn’t entirely convinced.

“i get that it’s probably uncomfortable,” you start, recalling the past times he’s fed on you and the way he would promptly apologize, rushing away from you in favor of holing up in the living room by himself. “ but i want to help any way i can if you aren’t feeling well.”

dan heng knows that you’re more than willing to be of service to him. it’s nice of you, nicer than he deserves. as much as he’s been trying to ignore it, the truth is that feeding feels good. it’s incomparable to the satisfaction that used to come from eating, it’s better—so much better. the metallic taste had been unpleasant the first time around but it soon turned into something sweet, made him feel like an electric buzz was coursing through him. now, it sets every nerve in his body ablaze and makes him feel warm—a warmth he hasn’t felt in what feels like forever.

you level him with a pleading look. “please, let me help you.”

he doesn’t know if it’s the sparkle of desperation in your eyes, the waver in your voice, or the nagging feeling of thirst that finally makes him nod his head. a relief floods over you with his agreement. 

the two of you have only done this a handful of times but enough that you know how he prefers the process. you scoot forward on the mattress so he can settle himself behind you. he favors it over being in front of you where it would be easier for you to see him. the bed dips as he comes to sit behind you. a cold air follows dan heng, cooler than usual. if you had to guess, you’d say it was due to the recent lack of blood in his diet.

you tilt your head, causing your hair to fall to the side which leaves your neck exposed. the punctures from last time have all but faded and are barely recognizable. despite the compelling scent of you wafting around him, tickling his nose, dan heng’s hands hover over your waist and he keeps a safe distance between his mouth and your throat.

“ready?” his breath raises goosebumps on your arms.

you hum. “go ahead.”

with your final prompting, he firmly grips your midsection. dan heng’s fangs shoot out as he drops his head to the crook of your neck. the sharp, pointed teeth pierce the delicate skin of your neck. you stifle the gasp that bubbles up at the discomfort of what feels like two needles penetrating you. the rest—when his fangs retract, that is—isn’t nearly as painful. the sensation is a strange one, draining you physically and mentally. it leaves you faint, but still conscious.

for dan heng, the experience is almost euphoric. any heaviness lingering in his muscles lifts as he swallows down the blood leaking from your neck. more than that, he feels like he’s awake—lucid—for the first time in a while. that electricity that seemingly always follows not long after the initial alleviation of the consumption sparks within him. 

he’s had his fill by now, but he’s greedy for more—more blood, more of you. he licks up the dripping lines of red, readying to latch onto you once more when he catches sight of the sheets balled up in your fist. like his rationality has been switched back on, dan heng recoils, almost scrambling from behind you. 

“sorry.” he wipes his lips with the back of his hand. when he pulls it away from his mouth, a streak of red is left behind. seeing it hits dan heng with a pang of the familiar guilt that comes after feeding from you. 

he whispers out another apology before moving to leave but your hand darts out to catch his wrist. dan heng turns to face you. he’s never met your eye once he’s finished; he usually makes a conscious effort to avoid looking at you after he’s fed. he expects to see the worst painted on your face—pain, disgust, fear. but they’re all absent. your expression is as normal as can be—the one you wear when you’re making breakfast or when you return home or when you’re watching a movie with him. it leaves dan heng frozen in his spot.

“you don’t have to go,” you tell him, your voice a little frail. your hand slithers down from his wrist to his palm, his skin smooth beneath your fingers. you interlace your fingers with his and gently tug him toward you. “just stay.”

dan heng thinks he has every reason not to. it can’t be normal and he can’t be sure that his overwhelming desire for more won’t resurface. but the feel of your hand in his and the hopefulness swimming in your eyes makes him reconsider. 

the final nail in the coffin is hammered in when you squeeze his hand and send him a small smile. he’s not sure why, but he can’t say no to you. “okay.”

thanks for reading! consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed ❤︎

#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: honkai star rail #dan heng x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #dan heng x you #hsr x you #dan heng fluff #hsr fluff #dan heng imagines #hsr imagines #hsr drabbles #honkai star rail drabble

[starryblueeyesandstarryblueskies]

You Don’t Go To Parties | R.C.

Read part 2 here

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: Rafe flashes back on moments in your relationship as he looks for you at his party, even though he knows that he won’t find you.

Based on the song:

A/N: This is the longest fic I’ve ever written and I think the one I’ve enjoyed the most. This definitely isn’t canon Rafe but it is the Rafe I dream of. Rafe and Sarah are actually close in this because they deserve that and Sarah and Topper aren’t dating cuz I just don’t like them together. Also it is very very very much not proofread like at all

As I am an adult, all characters I write for are written as adults. Any minor characters will be aged up to the general range of their actor’s age.

Warnings: drug and alcohol use, addiction, arguing, harassment, talk of ward being a shitty dad

Word Count: 6.5k

-

25 minutes. That’s how long the party had been going on at the Cameron house. 25 minutes. That was how long Rafe had been looking for you at said party.

He hadn’t even realized he was doing it. Scanning the party every few minutes, his conscious mind chalked it up to wanting to know who was at his house and he left it at that. He didn’t want to think about it any deeper.

Take a shot. Scan the kitchen.

Do a line. Scan the basement.

Play a round of beer pong. Scan the backyard.

“Right, bro? Rafe, have you even heard a word I said?” A shove from Topper brings Rafe back to reality.

“Huh, what? Is it my turn?” Rafe turns back to the card table covered with red solo cups.

“We lost like five minutes ago,” Topper deadpans, “which you would know if you had been paying attention.

Where is your head, bro? It’s like you’re not even here. This is your party.”

Rafe just shrugs in response, scanning the backyard again.

“Who are you looking for?”

Rafe turns back to his friend. “I’m not looking for anyone.”

“Yeah, sure,” Topper says skeptically, “You’re just searching the crowd every few minutes for no reason.” He claps him on the back. “Real convincing.”

Rafe starts to make a noise of indignation, but Topper is already walking away, leaving him to his thoughts.

As much as he doesn’t want to admit it to himself, Rafe knows exactly who he’s looking for, and he also knows he’ll never find you in the crowd. You don’t go to parties anymore, and he only has himself to blame.

-

(10 months earlier)

Growing up middle class in the Outer Banks was a weird experience. You weren’t a pogue and you weren’t a kook, and neither group made any attempt to claim you. You were just you.

You hadn’t wanted for much during your childhood, but you learned not to spend on needless expenses. Your parents taught you the necessity of hard work and they taught you how to budget. You didn’t go to lavish parties, but you weren’t going to bed hungry. As an adult, you worked two jobs, waitressing during the week and bartending on weekends, and your parents pitched in every once and a while to help you pay your rent. You weren’t rich by any means, but thanks to your work ethic and the kindness of your parents, you made it work.

Rafe Cameron grew up in a different world. He splurged endlessly, using up the massive allowance that his dad gave him. He didn’t care about price and he didn’t care about budgeting. Most of all, he had never worked hard a day in his life.

When he comes up to the bar one night while you’re pouring drinks, you don't spare him a second glance. He flashes you that crooked grin and calls you ‘darlin’’, but it doesn't matter. You know Rafe Cameron’s reputation and you don’t get tied up in the games of rich boys. You simply make him his drink and go on with your night.

Rafe on the other hand, is smitten from the moment he lays eyes on you. When the typical smile and sweet talk doesn’t have you falling at his feet like every other girl, he knows he’s a goner. He would make it his mission to catch your eye no matter what it took.

So he puts in the work, weekend after weekend he comes to the bar, day after day he comes to the restaurant. Each meeting is filled with flirty conversations and teasing looks, and despite your better judgment, you can feel him wearing you down.

-

(8 months earlier)

Two months after your first meeting, Rafe saunters into the bar, just like he did every Friday night, and heads straight for you.

“Y/N.” He greets you, the same crooked grin on his face.

“Rafe,” you reply, the same even tone you always use, “The usual?”

“You know it, darlin’.”

“You’re later than usual.” You note.

He smirks at that. “Worried I wasn’t coming?”

You give him a look. “Not a chance,” you retort, “just thought maybe I had finally scared you off.”

“Impossible.”

You can’t help the small smile that crosses your face at his reply, and you turn quickly so he doesn’t see, playing it off as helping another customer. When you refocus your attention back on him, you realize he hadn’t taken his eyes off you. He scans your face, the look on his face more serious than usual and one you can’t quite read.

He leans in, eyes locked on your face and murmurs under his breath, “Go on a date with me, please.”

Rafe has never blatantly asked you out before. You know that it’s been his intention all along, all his flirting building up to this moment, but you didn’t expect such sincerity behind his words. And you certainly didn’t expect him to say please.

You want to say no. You know better than to get involved with someone like him, but Rafe has a gravitational force that pulls you, and everyone around him, in. So when he gives you a small, hopeful smile, you can’t help that your body leans closer to him. And you can’t help but say yes.

-

He picks you up at 6:00 on the dot Monday night, looking about as handsome as you had ever seen him in dark jeans and a light blue pullover. He hadn’t told you much about what he had planned for the night, just to wear something comfortable and he would take care of everything else.

You aren’t quite sure what to expect from Rafe Cameron on a date, but as he opens the door of his truck for you, looking down at you with a smile and a soft look in his eyes, you realize you aren’t worried.

Rafe drives you to a small clearing that you had never seen. It’s a grassy spot that overlooks a quiet area of the beach, and is just secluded enough to give the two of you privacy. He pulls in carefully, angling the bed of the truck toward the beach.

Once he parks, you reach for the door handle, but Rafe puts up a hand to stop you.

“Wait right here for a second, okay?”

He grabs a bag from the backseat and hops out of the truck, setting up the truck bed to his liking. When he finishes, he jogs over to your side of the truck where he opens your door and helps you out.

You raise an eyebrow at the gesture, a small smile gracing your face. “Quite the gentleman, Rafe Cameron.”

“I was trained well,” he jokes back at you.

As you round the back of the truck, Rafe jumps up onto the tailgate, reaching down a hand to help you up the big step. You’re thankful for the help as you almost fall, not once, but twice in the process.

“Well, that was graceful,” you giggle and Rafe laughs along with you.

When he’s confident you're steady on your own two feet, Rafe takes a seat on one side of the truck bed, motioning you to do the same across from him. Between you, he’s set up a small picnic with a few of your favorite foods and a variety of drinks, alcoholic and non-alcoholic alike.

“I wasn’t sure which you would want,” Rafe offers at your questioning glance, “I wasn’t sure how much you drink.”

Your heart flutters a little with the thoughtfulness of his words. It’s not what you would’ve expected from Rafe. You’ve heard the stories, and know his reputation. Rafe drank a high volume and often. You’d expected him to want you to do the same. Then again, nothing about your experience with Rafe has been what you expected.

The night was everything you could’ve hoped for. You and Rafe spend hours talking and laughing while feasting on the picnic he had brought. The conversation never seemed to lull, and even the quiet moments between the two of you felt comfortable.

As the sun went down over the water, you let out a content sigh. “It really is beautiful.”

Rafe hums in agreement, leaning back against his hands as he looks between you and the sunset. He can’t believe how lucky he is to be here with you. How he convinced you to go out with him is beyond his comprehension, but he’s going to enjoy it while it lasts.

A light breeze blows across the clearing, and you can’t help but shiver slightly. It was usually pretty warm in the Outer Banks, but considering it was nearing November, sometimes the nights get a bit chilly.

Noticing your discomfort, Rafe reaches through the open truck window and pulls out a jacket. He drapes it over your shoulders gently, and you feel yourself leaning into his touch. You look up at him, the ‘thank you’ getting caught into your throat when you realize just how close he is.

You can feel his warm breath fan across your face, his eyes flickering to your eyes and your lips, gaze intense. He’s waiting for your permission to make a move, so you tilt your head up ever so slightly. Moving so your lips are almost brushing against his.

He takes this as his cue, pressing his lips against yours. The kiss is strong, but gentle, Rafe’s mouth moving in time with yours as if you were made for each other. You feel like you’re floating, and you don’t ever want to come down.

-

(7 months earlier)

A month into your relationship, Rafe takes you to a party at his buddy Dylan’s house. It’s your first real kook party. Sure, you’ve been to your fair share of parties while living on the island, but none of them have been in mansions owned by rich parents who just let their kids have free reign.

You can tell Rafe feels comfortable like this, surrounded by rich kids in a big house with loud music and expensive booze. You know he’s been to plenty of parties just like this one, but you can’t help but feel out of place, even by the kook king’s side.

Luckily for you, Rafe steers you towards the kitchen pretty quickly, not wanting to share you with everyone the whole night.

“Wow, this is quite the party,” you state, gesturing around the room.

Rafe pours you a cup of beer and then grabs one for himself, tucking an arm around your waist to pull you into his body.

“What do you mean? You’ve been to lots of parties,” he comments.

“Not in houses like this, Rafe,” you laugh, “they have two ovens, and a fridge that looks like a cabinet.”

Rafe chuckles at that. “Fair enough.”

“Yo, Rafe!” A loud, frat boy looking blond enters the kitchen.

Rafe gives him a quick bro hug before leaning back into your side. “Hey man, what’s up?”

“Where you been lately, dude? I haven’t seen you at a party in forever!” He gestures toward you. “I take it this is the girl who’s been taking you all your time?”

Rafe smiles warmly down at you. “This is Y/N. Y/N, Trey.” He gestures back to the blond.

“Nice to meet you,” you offer.

“Yeah, you too.” Trey throws out the quick reply, clearly thinking of you as nothing beyond a fling. He turns back toward Rafe. “Look you didn’t hear this from me, but there’s some of the good stuff downstairs. You know what I mean.” He taps the side of his nose.

Rafe feels you stiffen against his side at the comment. “I’m good, man. Appreciate the heads up.”

Trey shakes his head, giving him an incredulous look. “More for me then.”

He walks away not long after, but you still feel on edge. Sensing your continuing discomfort, Rafe leads you away from the commotion and out onto an empty balcony.

“Are you okay?” He doesn’t crowd you which you appreciate, leaving a few feet of space between you. “I can tell that conversation made you uncomfortable.” For having known you only a few months, he seems to be able to read you pretty well.

You nod. “It’s just not really something we’ve talked about you know? The drug use.”

Rafe nods.

“Look, I don’t want to tell you what to do. And I don’t want to issue ultimatums. But I feel like we need to have a conversation about it before our relationship progresses any further.”

Rafe’s eyes never leave yours as he nods again, encouraging you to continue.

“I know it’s a big thing on the island, coke especially. I mean I don’t live under a rock. But I’m not comfortable around it, and I’m not comfortable surrounding myself with people who do it.” You pause for a moment, preparing yourself for what you have to say next. “Addiction is pretty prevalent in my family, and a lot of people have struggled with drug abuse. It’s a big deal to me and I don’t think I can be with you if that’s something you’re taking part in.” You hold your breath, knowing this could be the end of your budding relationship with Rafe.

He steps closer to you, reaching out to intertwine your fingers. “I understand,” he says with sincerity in his words, “I know I have a reputation Y/N, and I know you’ve looked past a lot of it to give me a chance.”

You look away, finding it hard to meet the intensity of his gaze, afraid of what might come next.

“I want you to feel comfortable around me, no matter what. Would it make you feel better if I told you I’ve been clean since we met?”

Your eyes snap to his at the question. “Really?” Rafe nods in reply. “Why?”

“I knew I wanted to be with you from the day I met you, and I knew in order for that to happen I had to be the best version of myself that I could.” He shrugs. “You’re worth more than the high.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

-

(5 months earlier)

“I just don’t understand what you’re getting so upset about?”

“Rafe, I’m upset because we’ve had this dinner date planned for weeks and you suddenly canceled on me twenty minutes before you were supposed to pick me up.”

You’re standing on one side of your living room as Rafe paces across from you. Last night, the two of you were supposed to go to dinner at a nice restaurant. A date that had been planned two weeks ago when Rafe had first surprised you with the reservation. You had spent over an hour getting ready when he canceled on you with a text. No explanation as to why and a half assed apology. You don’t think he even realized you were upset about it until he showed up at your door this morning and saw the piercing glare you gave him.

“Look, there was nothing I could do about it, okay?” Rafe runs his hands through his hair. “Something just came up last minute.”

“And you won’t even tell me what it was.” His non-explanation does nothing to curb your anger. “How do you expect me to feel, Rafe?”

He softens when he sees the look in your eyes, realizing you're not so much mad as you are hurt. Hurt that he canceled, hurt that he won’t tell you why, hurt that he doesn’t seem to care.

“It was Sarah, and my dad,” Rafe offers in explanation, “I don’t know exactly what happened, but they got in this huge fight and I just needed to be there for her.” He moves closer to you. “I’m sorry, baby.”

All your anger fades away at his words. “Is she okay?” You and Sarah have gotten close since you started dating Rafe. You know all the Cameron kids have a strained relationship with their father, Rafe most of all. He’s never told you the full extent of his issues with his dad, but you know he’s very protective of his sisters when it comes to Ward.

Rafe nods. “She’ll be fine.” He wants to pull you into his arms, but he hesitates, knowing this conversation isn’t quite over.

You look at him with hurt eyes. “You could’ve told me you know. I would’ve understood.” You love how much he cares for his sisters. You never would’ve stood in the way of him being there for Sarah.

“I know. I’m sorry,” he repeats again, “I wasn’t thinking.” This time you move a little closer, opening yourself up to him. When he reaches out, you allow him to pull you into his body. “It won’t happen again. I promise.”

You nod into his chest. Rafe pulls you back slowly to look into your eyes. “I love you.”

It’s the first time he’s said it, but it’s how he’s felt since day one. When you smile up at him, eyes full of adoration, he feels like his heart could burst.

“I love you too, Rafe.”

-

The Cameron house is full of music, beer, and kooks. At this point in your relationship you’ve been to a fair amount of kook parties with Rafe and while it’s still not necessarily your scene, you’ve come to feel a lot more comfortable in the chaotic atmosphere by Rafe’s side. You understand the appeal more now, even if it’s not entirely your thing.

Since Rafe is hosting this party, you spend a lot of the night with Sarah, allowing him to mingle with his friends, pour drinks, and the like. The two of you are confident in your relationship and don’t feel like you need to spend every minute together. You don’t mind him doing his hosting thing as long as he checks in on you from time to time, as you’re having fun dancing the night away with Sarah.

“Hey darlin’,” Rafe pulls you into him from behind, sliding his arm around your waist while you sway to the music, “Not having too much fun without me are you?”

You turn to wrap your arms around his neck. “Oh absolutely. You know your sister might be more fun than you are. I might just have to reconsider which Cameron I’m dating,” you tease.

Rafe feigns shock with a hand to his heart, looking between you and Sarah. “I can’t believe what I’m hearing!”

“Oh believe it, big brother!” Sarah chimes in, “She’s my girlfriend now.”

He pouts at that, turning to you with over exaggerated sad eyes. You laugh at his expression, but can’t help kissing the pout off his lips.

“Don’t worry, baby. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

Sarah fakes a gag behind you as the two of you look lovingly into each other’s eyes. “Okay, you guys are gross. Rafe, leave us alone so we can dance!”

“What, now I can’t even spend time with my own girlfr–” A crash sounds from behind him. “Oh fuck. What the hell was that?”

He gives you an apologetic look but you wave him off. “It’s okay, go deal with the chaos.” You smile and he gives you one last peck on the lips before running off in the direction of the crash.

Sarah takes her place at your side again as you both watch his retreating figure. “I may give him a lot of shit, but I gotta admit, you two are really good together.” She loops her arm through yours. “Plus I got a new best friend out of the deal.”

The two of you laugh and turn back to the dance floor when you feel a hand close around your wrist. You turn with a smile, assuming Rafe has returned after dealing with the mess, but instead you come face to face with a guy you’ve never met.

“Um, hi,” you say to him, a little confused.

The guy flashes an over confident smirk at you. “Hey, babe. Wanna dance?”

“Oh, I’m actually dancing with my friend right now, but thanks.”

You try to pull your arm from his grip, but instead of talking your gentle brush off he just grips you tighter. Sarah turns back looking for you just as he pulls you hard, causing you to stumble closer to him. She gives you a worried look, but you shake your head at her. You’ve dealt with your fair share of pushy men at the bar, so you're pretty sure you can handle this yourself.

“Oh come on.” He speaks uncomfortably close to your face. So much so that you can smell the alcohol coming off his breath in waves. “It’s just a dance.”

“I said no.” You yank your arm stiffly from his grip. “Find someone else.”

Your defiance does little more than anger him as he lunges for you again, this time gripping both arms so tightly you’re sure he’ll leave a bruise.

“Hey!” Sarah jumps in now as this situation escalates. “She said no. Back off!”

In the kitchen, Rafe is finishing up dealing with the most recent crisis when he hears voices raising in the living room. Oh god, what now?

“Yo Rafe!” Topper rushes into the kitchen. “You better get out here man. Some guy is harassing Y/N.”

Rafe charges into the living room after his best friend, freezing when he sees you. Some guy has got ahold of both of your arms while you try to pull away, Sarah trying in vain to get in between the two of you, and the rest of the crowd looking around nervously, clearly waiting for the moment when Rafe finds out what is happening.

Sarah is all up in the guy’s face, practically biting his head off, but you can’t really hear what is being said at this point. You’re finding it a little hard to breathe at the moment, unable to concentrate on anything except how trapped you feel as you continue to pull against his strong grip.

You can feel your eyes welling up as your breathing shallows, but right before the tears can fall the guy is ripped away from you. You stumble back into Sarah’s arms as a tall body plants themselves protectively in front of you.

“Stay the hell away from her,” Rafe practically growls out.

“Hey, I didn’t do anything wrong! She was all over me, man.”

Rafe is physically holding himself back at that, hands trembling with the effort. “I can guarantee you, she was not.” He wants to cave the guy’s face in, but he knows that would just upset you more and he doesn’t want to do anything to add to your anxiety.

The guy stalks forward again, angry at being embarrassed in front of all these people, and gets in Rafe’s face. “You need to back the fuck up,” Rafe barks out.

“Who the hell do you think you are?”

“First of all, I’m her boyfriend.” The guy goes to make an angry retort, probably about you wanting him, but Rafe cuts him off. “And second of all, I’m the one throwing this damn party.”

The guy pales in realization, he may not have known what Rafe Cameron looks like, but he clearly knows this is his party, and he just pissed off the kook king big time.

“Now get the fuck out of my house.” Rafe looks over at Topper who nods and grabs the guy by the back of his shirt, marching him straight out the front door.

Rafe turns toward you, still shaking in Sarah’s embrace. He opens his arms and you bury yourself in his chest as he leads you away from the crowd up to his bedroom. As you walk you can hear Sarah yell behind you, “Alright everyone, party’s over! Go home.”

As he shuts the door to his bedroom, Rafe speaks softly in your ear, “I’m so sorry, baby. I should’ve been there.”

You shake your head. “I’m okay. It’s not your fault.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m not leaving your side at a party ever again. I promise.” He crawls on the bed pulling you so you're laying fully on top of him. “I won’t let anyone lay their hands on you again.”

You just nod, nustling deeper in his embrace, finally feeling the trembling dissipate as you begin to feel safe again in his arms.

-

(3 months earlier)

You sat around the fire listening as one of your friends told a story about a terrible first date she went on last week. You plant your face in your hands and groan as she tells you the cheesy pickup line he used at the end of the night, Sarah falling into fits of laughter beside you.

“I honestly can’t believe you didn’t just walk out at this point,” she gets out between giggles.

You nod your head enthusiastically. “Girl, you have gotta start finding better people to date.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she says in a teasing voice, “Not all of us can be in the perfect relationship, okay?”

You put your hands up in mock surrender, letting her continue on her rant of first dates being the worst. Your relationship with Rafe isn’t perfect, but you won’t deny that it's pretty damn close.

You and your friends put this bonfire together at the beach as a chance to just relax and catch up. Sarah, Topper, and a few others sit with you on the sand. Rafe coming a little later in the night because he has to run a few quick errands for his dad, but you don’t mind. This is the first time you’ve really had a solid group of friends since you were a kid, and it’s nice to feel relaxed and happy even without your boyfriend there.

A few minutes later, you hear a truck pull up and a car door shut. You turn with a bright smile on your face, excited to see your boyfriend after a long day without him, but your excitement turns to worry when you see the look on his face. He plasters on a smile as he makes it to the group, but you know him well enough to see right through it. You turn to Sarah and the look she gives you confirms that something is definitely wrong with Rafe.

“Hey, let’s go on a little walk, okay?” You give him a small smile. “We’ll be back in a few, guys.”

Your friends respond with a chorus of okay’s and see ya’s and Sarah gives you an encouraging nod.

Trekking along the water line, you take Rafe’s hand in yours. “What’s going on, baby? You seem upset.”

“Just a long day. My dad was a lot.”

You nod. “Do you wanna tell me about it?”

“Maybe in a little while. Can we just walk for a bit?”

“Of course.”

He tucks you into his side, enjoying the way your presence grounds him after the day he’s had. You wait patiently until he’s ready to start speaking. Rafe doesn’t talk about his dad too often around you. He’s told you the basics of how they don’t really get along and that he can be pressuring and overbearing, but that’s the extent of it.

While he knows that you would be supportive and that it’s good to get it out, he doesn’t like recounting their fights. It usually just makes him feel trapped back in that moment. This, however, is the worst fight they’ve had in a while and he just can’t deal with it himself this time.

“He told me I’m a failure and that I can’t be trusted to do anything right.” Rafe rushes out the sentence in one breath.

You stop abruptly, turning to face him. “He said what?”

“He said that I’m never going to be a successful adult, because I can’t even do the simple tasks he asks of me. And that I’m distracted all the time and never spend enough time at home or doing the work he needs me to do.”

“Rafe,” you say softly, but he’s not finished.

“He wants me to break up with you because he thinks you take up too much of my time and don’t respect him or the way he runs our family.”

You can’t help the look of disbelief that crosses your face. “Oh my god.”

“I know.” Then he rushes to add, “I told him no obviously. I’m not breaking up with you because he told me too. I’d never do that.”

“No, baby, I know.” You reach a hand up to his cheek, rubbing your thumb back and forth to calm him down. “That’s not what I’m worried about. But that was a lot for you to hear, Rafe.”

He nods slightly, trying and failing to hide the tears welling up in his eyes.

“You’re not a failure, baby.” You turn his head toward you gently. “If he can’t see the amazing man you’ve become, the capable, confident, happy man that you are, then that’s his deficiency not yours.”

Rafe looks back at the ground, whispering in agreement, but it’s clear he doesn’t mean it.

“Rafe Cameron, you are an incredible man. I wouldn’t be here otherwise. And I will remind you of that everyday until you believe it.” You duck down under his lowered gaze until your eyes meet. “Screw your dad.” You add sternly.

That earns you a little smile and a squeeze of your hand. “Thank you,” Rafe murmurs.

You pull him to sit next to you on the sand. “Why don’t we just stay here for a little while? We don’t have to go back to the bonfire quite yet.”

And there you sit, for the rest of the night, your back pressed to Rafe’s front, his arms around your waist while you rub soothing circles into his arms. Enjoying the breeze, the sound of the waves, and most of all, each other's company, because as long as you have each other it doesn’t matter what else goes wrong in the world.

-

(2 months earlier)

“Come on, Y/N!”

“Rafe, I’ve told you a hundred times, I can’t go to Jason’s party with you tonight. I have to work. You’ll just have to go with Top.”

You’re standing behind the bar arguing with Rafe, who apparently drove all the way all the way to your place of employment to beg you to go to this party with him, even though he knows damn well that you have a shift tonight.

“Can’t you blow off work just this once?” Rafe tries again.

“No, Rafe, I can’t.” You pace back and forth in front of him, getting dangerously close to being late for work. “If I don’t work this shift, I won’t be able to make rent this month, not to mention the fact that they’d probably fire me for bailing this late.”

“It’s like you don’t even want to spend time with me?”

“Because I won’t blow off work for you? Rafe, I need this money. You know what, I’m done with this conversation. I’m going to be late. We’ll talk about this later.” With that final statement, you stalk inside, not even pausing to glance back at your boyfriend.

You can’t stop thinking about your fight while you work, turning the words over and over in your head throughout your shift. You know Rafe has never had to worry about money or even really about having a job, but usually he was pretty understanding of your life and finances. He knew you needed this job to survive and as much as you wish it could be different, at this point in your life, work had to take precedence over hanging out with friends. You couldn’t afford for it not to.

By the end of your shift, you decide that you and Rafe should wait until morning to talk. You still feel pretty hot about the whole situation, and nothing good would come from the two of you arguing all night. In the morning, you could stop by his place and have a discussion when both of you had clear heads.

You pack up your stuff, saying goodbye to your coworkers and heading to your car when you notice two new voicemails from Rafe. You play the first.

“Hey darlin’, it's me. I was an asshole earlier and you have every right to be mad at me. I shouldn’t have asked you to skip out on work and I definitely shouldn’t have made it all about me. I know how important this job is for you. Just call me back please. I hate it when we fight. I love you, baby.”

You let out a deep sigh, your heart clenching. You hated fighting with him too, but you still think the night would do you both some good. You play the second voicemail while you start driving.

“Y/N,” Rafe’s voice breaks on your name, “I know you’re still mad at me, but I need you.”

You stiffen at the pain in his voice, feeling a little panicked.

“Dad and I got in this huge fight and– It was really bad,” He whispers the last part, “Call me back please. I need you.”

You pull over quickly, clicking on his contact in your phone. Your fingers drum anxiously on the wheel with every ring, but there’s no answer. You try again to no avail. As a last resort, you try calling Topper. He picks up on the second ring.

“Y/N! Where you at?” You can hear the noise of the party in the background.

“Top, is Rafe with you?”

“Yeah, he’s around here somewhere! I saw him just a few minutes ago.”

“Great, I’m on my way.” You hang up before he even has a chance to say goodbye, turning around in the middle of the road to make your way to Jason’s house.

For once, you’re glad you live on such a small island, because it only takes you a few minutes to get to the party. You park quickly and head inside, looking for your boyfriend all the while. It only takes you a few seconds to spot Topper and Sarah in the living room.

“Hey girl!” Sarah gives you a big hug.

“Hey, have you seen your brother?”

She shakes her head. “Last I saw he was in the backyard.”

“No, no,” Topper chimes in, “We saw him a few minutes ago. I think he was heading to the back room.”

“Oh yeah!” Sarah nods along.

“Thanks guys.” You head in the direction they pointed, ignoring their calls to take a shot with them. The only thought in your head after hearing that message is finding your boyfriend and making sure he’s okay.

Pushing through the crowds, you finally make your way into the back room, letting out a sign of relief when you see your boyfriend sprawled out on the couch. He turns your way, catching your eye with a deer in the headlights expression on his face. The relief you felt disappearing as fast as it arrived when you see the white power under his nose.

Before Rafe can say a word, you spin on your heel, heading back the way you came.

“Y/N! Y/N, wait!” He calls after you, but you don’t stop.

It isn’t until you push past your friends and out the front door until he finally catches up to you. Rafe grabs your arm, spinning you to face him. Behind him you can see Sarah and Topper have followed the two of you into the front yard with confused and concerned looks on their faces.

“Y/N, baby, would you stop? Where are you going?”

“Where am I going? Rafe, are you kidding me?” You shove his hand off your arm. “I’m going home.”

“Why?”

“Because you are high out of your mind!” He has the decency to look ashamed at that. “You told me you were done with this, Rafe. You knew how uncomfortable you using drugs made me and you told me you were done, that I was worth more than the high. Clearly that wasn’t true.” You turn back toward your car.

“What the hell was I supposed to do, Y/N? I needed you and you weren’t there! You didn’t even answer the phone when I called.”

You whirl around. “I was at work! I didn’t even have my phone on me, Rafe. I had no idea that you called.” Rafe opens his mouth to argue, but you cut him off. “No. You don’t get to blame this on me. I rushed over here after a long, miserable shift of replaying our fight over and over in our mind, just to make sure you were okay. You made this choice. You chose to throw away everything we had. Six months down the drain for a meaningless high.”

“Baby, please.” The tears in his eyes and pain on his face threaten to crack you in half, but you’ve made up your mind. This is one thing you can’t forgive.

You can barely get the words out, your voice nothing more than a broken whisper. “I’m done.”

You rush to your car, leaving Rafe standing there in shock. Before you can shut your door, Sarah is there pulling you into a hug. “Let me come with you, you shouldn’t be alone right now.”

You shake your head. “No, stay with Rafe. He's your brother. He needs you more right now. He just gave up eight months clean and sober, that’s going to be hell to come back from.”

She just gives you an uncertain look. “What about you?”

“I’ll be fine. I promise.”

You try to hold it together as you drive home, but you don’t make it more than a few miles before you have to pull over, crying too hard to continue. By the time you make it home, it’s been over an hour since the party. You crawl in bed straight away, crying until there’s no tears left and you fall into an uneasy sleep.

-

(Back to present)

Rafe stumbles back into the living room, looking for anything and everything that will distract him from thoughts of you. He makes it to the kitchen, quickly downing a shot before pouring himself another when he hears a noise. He freezes for a moment, thinking the universe is taunting him, then turns slowly.

There you are talking to Sarah, beautiful as ever, with your head thrown back in a laugh, and another man’s arm around your waist.

-

Writing masterlist

#stars writes #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron #outer banks #obx #outer banks x reader #outer banks fic #obx x reader #obx fic #starryblueeyesandstarryblueskies #Spotify

[hellfirenacht]

Reader ==> Enjoy Your New Car!

Summery: Through no powers of your own, you end up in Hawkins 1985, in a tv show that you once saw on Netflix. Slow burn, Eddie Munson x Reader will be canon, choose your own adventure to a degree, monkey’s paw author.

Isekai Chronicles Master List

START HERE <<<--- FIRST CHAPTER HERE

Chapter Summery: You get a new (old) car! That should help you get around Hawkins... right?

Tags: Eddie and Reader, sfw

Work Count: 2.8 k

Reader ==> Enjoy Your New Car!

The junk car that you managed to scrape together a couple hundred dollars for worked well enough for the first two weeks. It had no heating, no radio, the seats were uncomfortable, and there was a lingering scent that you couldn’t get rid of no matter how much you tried to clean it, but it drove you to the Hideout and the high school, and to the trailer you now called home. 

That was until about a half hour ago when the key snapped in the slot to turn the engine on. Could you ever catch a break? Just fucking once while you were here? 

You nearly jumped out of your seat and through the roof of your rust bucket when you heard a tap at the window. You looked to see Eddie, frowning at you and you manually cranked down the window. 

“Evenin’ officer. How can I help you?” you asked, trying not to sound as defeated as you felt in that moment.  

“This is a no parking zone.” He said, leaning over and resting his arms on the open window. It was late November, and the cold was consistent now, but you hardly noticed with how you’d been just staring out the windshield for the past thirty or so minutes. “Neighbors have been sending in complaints.”

You looked behind you at the neighboring trailers. There were at least 2 that had broken down cars within the block, one that’s been sitting on cinder blocks since before you arrived and one that the neighbor had been working on for a few weeks on and off. Other cars were scattered and parked near their own trailers, haphazardly. 

“I’ll be sure to move it.” you said, more dry than intended. 

“So why are you sitting out here in your car, staring out into space?” Eddie asked and looked out the way your car was facing, as if trying to see if there was anything interesting in that general direction. There wasn’t. 

“Car’s broke.”

“How broke?”

You held up the piece of plastic where your key had been attached to. 

“So the car’s fine, but the key broke.” Eddie clarified.

“Is there a difference?” You asked. 

“There is. If the car was busted then you’d be fucked out of this rust bucket-”

“Eddie, you can’t say things like that.-” you rubbed your face, now feeling the cold in the contrast to the warmth in your cheeks. 

“What I’m saying is I can help.” He continued. “Do you have any tools?”

“Uhhh....”

“Follow me.” 

You got out of the car, not bothering to roll the window back up, and followed Eddie back to his trailer across the park. It wasn’t a long walk, you had already come to visit your friend more than a few times since you moved in. You felt a little bad, you found yourself spending time at Eddie’s place more than your own. 

“So, what brought you to my end of the park?” you asked as the two of you walked. The ground was covered in a thin layer of frost that wouldn’t fully commit to snow or ice.

“Boredom.” he said honestly. “I fried my brain trying to learn this new riff I’ve been working on and I needed a break.” 

“New song for the set?” You asked. “It’s about time, I get that one Judas Priest song is a staple, but you’ve beaten it into the ground at this point.” 

“Prowler isn’t going anywhere as long as it’s the one song everyone can play consistently.” Eddie protested. “And it’s a new original song I’m working on.” 

“That’s actually really cool.” you followed him into his slightly warmer trailer and watched as he opened a tiny closet and pulled out a tool box. “How many original songs do you have?” 

“Three and a half.” Eddie said. “We uh.. We started with a song that Ronnie and I wrote together. We don’t play that one anymore, but we’ve got one other song, and this one that I’m working on now.”

“Why don’t you play the first song?” You asked as you followed him back out. 

Eddie’s face went stoic for a moment, staring at the dirty green toolbox. “It just didn’t work out.” he finally said, and you had a feeling he wasn’t interested in talking about the song. “The second song is called Litch and if Jeff can commit to learning the vocals then we’d actually be able to play it at the Hideout at some point. They always hesitate on playing our original songs.”

“I’d like to hear your original stuff at some point.” you said, following him back out into the cold. 

“If I can get the guys to commit, then you’ll hear it at some point.” Eddie said, leading the way back to your car. 

There were times where the two of you couldn’t shut up for five seconds, and then there were times where the silence between the two of you was deafening. Sometimes you felt like you were getting somewhere with your friendship with Eddie, and sometimes... sometimes you wondered if he thought about you at all when you weren’t around. 

He came over to see you. Of course he thinks about you. You told yourself, watching the subtle way his hair moved as the two of you walked together. 

Eddie hopping into the driver seat of your car and you moved into the passenger side seat next to him, with the toolbox between the two of you. He immediately pulled out some pliers and started messing with the key slot, trying to get the broken bit of metal out. 

You focused on his face, watching the way his eyes narrowed in concentration and the way his tongue subtly poked out from between his lips. That was something you noticed he did a lot. His brows were furrowed and from your angle it almost gave him a unibrow until he moved his fringe to the side. It was a little longer than it had been in the past two months and you wondered how often he cut it. 

“Shit.” he muttered and leaned back against the seat, his hands resting on the wheel. “Yeah, it’s really jammed in there.” 

“So I’m fucked out of this rust bucket?” you asked, frowning. 

“I... there’s another option.” Eddie said, staring at the wheel. “It’s not a smart option. It’d be stupid, actually and not really safe. And I’d have to do something not completely within the letter of the law.” 

You paused and stared at him. “Don’t you sell special K to high schoolers?” 

“That was once and I overcharged them.” Eddie said. “I save that for a different clientele.” 

For now. You thought. 

“So, what’s the illegal method you have to help me with my car?” you asked. 

Eddie took a deep breath and seemed to refuse to look at you. “We can hotwire it.”

“Hotwire... I’m sorry, what?” you looked at him surprised. “You know how to hotwire a car?” Had that been part of the show? You really wished that you had watched season four more than once over a year ago. It didn’t help that the longer you stayed here, the less you seemed to remember. You had your private box and notebook tucked away in your closet under a blanket, but you only pulled that out when you absolutely had to. Paranoia stopped you from reading everything too closely, and the idea of being caught with the things in that box... you shuddered to think about what would happen and how you’d explain yourself. 

Eddie didn’t say anything for a moment before he pulled a screwdriver from the toolbox. “It’s up to you. I can hotwire the car and teach you how to start it up like that, or you can call a tow and pay to have the key fixed.”

You thought about the options for a while, you were already eating ramen for most of your meals to pay for the car. The car clearly wasn’t worth more than the couple hundred you had paid for it, and you really were convinced that you’d overpaid for it. 

Fuck it. 

Eddie wasn’t gentle with the way he ripped open the dashboard and he started pointing out the different wires. You did stop him for a moment to grab a sheet of paper to write it down. Eddie insisted that after you’ve done it once, you wouldn’t need the cheat sheet, but you weren’t going to take any chances. 

“So.. how’d you learn to do this?” you asked as he rubbed two wires together, flicking them almost. You didn’t think he’d answer, but then the car suddenly rumbled to life and he actually smiled, looking proud of himself. 

“My dad.” Eddie explained. “We didn’t exactly have a traditional relationship growing up. Some kids got birthday parties and trips to the zoo, I got lessons on hotwiring cars and trips to the bar to learn cheap tricks for money. That only lasted until I was about ten when I stopped being small and cute.” 

“Shit.” you said, looking at him, trying to decide on how you’re supposed to respond to that lore that was just dropped on you. Eddie didn’t open up often, and this had to be a sign of trust, right? “...Want me to fight your dad?”

Eddie snorted at your question. “I bet my uncle would take you up on that.” he shook his head. “No reason to, I haven’t seen him in years. He’s probably in jail right now, it wouldn’t be the first time he’s been locked up.”

“Want me to break in and beat him up anyway?” you offered. “I’m sure I could figure it out.” 

“Your stealth rolls are shit.” he said. 

“You sound like Gareth. What I can or can’t do in D&D is completely different from what I could do in real life.” you said. 

“And how exactly do you plan on sneaking in to beat up my dad?” he asked, amusement in his eyes. 

“I’ll walk in, bat my eyelashes, and ask to visit him. Then when he’s in front of me I start swinging.” you punched your own hand for good measure. 

“I’m pretty sure you have to be a relative to visit someone in jail.” Eddie said. “And I’m not exactly itching to see him again, even if you decide to start a fight.”

“Okay, so my car is now on.” you said, on a roll now. “Hear me out, Eddie. You and I go to the courthouse right now and get married- I said hear me out, I’m not done-. I take your last name, use that to get into the prison to visit your dad, and then I can beat him up. I leave, we get divorced, we split with all of our own shit since we don’t have kids or shared property. Easy.”

Eddie rubbed his cheek as he laughed. “Bad idea, you’d be stuck with my last name. Munson doesn’t really get you anywhere in this town.”

“‘Lipton’ isn’t exactly doing me any favors either.” you pointed out. “Go big or go home, Eddie.”

“You are home.” he motioned to the trailer.

You weren’t, and you didn’t think you’d ever be again. 

“So, is that a no on marriage?” you asked, leaning close to him with your hand over your heart. You gave him your best pout. “I’m heartbroken.” 

“You were only going to marry me to get to my dad.” He gives you a playful shove away from him. 

“Yeah, but you’d be a bonus.” you said, blurting out the words without thinking. Ah, fuck, you weren’t supposed to be flirting. Flirting was a bad idea, a very very bad idea. You had made the decision a while ago that it was a bad idea. 

If he turned you down, it could be awkward and that could fuck up your chance to save him. If he dated you and it went badly that would make your chances worse. 

Focus on the mission, and not the way Eddie sounds when he laughs or how impossibly pretty his eyes are get your shit together and stop that-

“Nice to know you think I’m such a prize.” Eddie said casually, maybe a little too casually for how he usually talked. 

“When we divorce you can use that to fuel your music. I look forward to hearing the break-up album.” You tried to smooth your genuine flirting over by committing to the bit. 

“If I ever sell out, I’ll write our divorce album.” Eddie replied. “Until then, I’ll stick with singing about Hell and demons and references to my campaigns.” 

You don’t know why the idea of him writing songs about his campaigns made your stomach explode with butterflies, but it did. Maybe it was because you were now part of the campaigns and knowing that made you feel special. Like you were actually a part of something, part of him. 

Stop that. 

“Oh shit, I was actually doing something.” you realized and shook your head. “Right, I wasn’t just sitting here for fun. I had to go get groceries.” 

“That would explain why you were sitting in here when I found you.” Eddie agreed. “Do you... Want company?”

He wanted to go grocery shopping with you? That surprised you a lot. It almost felt domestic-

“Yeah, sure.” you agreed, pushing any other thoughts out of your head. “I need you to come anyway.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah, you showed me how to start the car but you didn’t tell me how to turn it off.” 

Eddie laughed and hopped out of the car so that you could scoot back into the driver's seat. He hopped in next to you and it felt like things were swapped now. You had spent weeks in his passenger seat and now he was sitting in yours. 

If this was going to be a regular occurrence, you were tempted to slap a BABY ON BOARD sticker on the back of your car. 

As you pulled out of the trailer park, Eddie rummaged around his jacket and pulled out a cassette. 

“Radio’s broke.” you warned as he stuck the tape in and pushed play. To your surprise, music started playing through the speakers. 

“Tape player isn’t.” he said, looking proud of himself. “You can keep this one.”

“Keep...?” you asked. He’d loaned to tapes before, but that was always with the promise you’d return them. 

“Yeah, I already have all these songs.” Eddie fidgeted with one of his rings casually. “I thought you might need something to fill the silence. You know, since you’re always coming over to listen to music with me.”

You really did, the quiet of being home alone had been grating on you and you had been spending as much time as you could with Eddie at his place. 

“Is this your way of giving me a hint that I’ve overstayed my welcome?” you asked wryly, feeling a knot in your stomach at the thought. 

“No! No, not that.” Eddie said quickly. “No, uh... I just thought you’d like these songs. You told me you liked a few of them.”

“So... you made me a mixtape?” you asked, trying to remain calm despite the fact that your brain was screaming. 

“I had some time to kill, and you were complaining about not having anything to listen to so...” he shrugged. 

Maybe you’d ask him to marry you for real. You didn’t even had a tape player, or anything other than your car to listen to it but you didn’t care.

Next up, get a tape player for Emergency Vecna Use. And batteries. All the batteries. You added to the endless list of to-do’s to prepare you for Hawkins High’s Spring Break. 

“Thank you.” you said, feeling genuinely touched that he went out of his way to do that for you. “Really. I’ll listen to it until it disintegrates.” 

“I’ll make you a new one when that happens.” Eddie promised. 

Conversations drifted back into easy territory after that. Hellfire, dungeons and dragons, comics, work. It felt so easy talking to him in these moments when it was just the two of you. It had been so long since that first disastrous hang out session, but somehow he’d still let you keep hanging out. 

You wished that things could be different.

For now, you just decided to do what you did best when hanging out alone with him. You pretended that your ID was legitimate, that you were some vague relative of his drug supplier, and that you two could be normal friends, doing normal things. 

For now, that would have to be enough. 

Reader ==> Learn How to Hotwire a Car was submitted by my Green Heart Anon <3

So what would you like to see Reader do next?

Tumblr User ==> Leave A Suggestion

Dividers by @strangergraphics

#nacht fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n

[late-to-the-party-81]

Power Play Chapter 5

Chapter 5 - Free Week - “S”

AN: It’s the chapter you’ve all been waiting for! Hopefully you love everything that happens here. Thank you for joining me on this wild ride. It's still the 2nd of August in Honolulu, so I'm all good.....

This week is a free week, with the optional prompt of something starting with “S” - so I’ve gone simple and just gone with Sex, but another word beginning with S also applies and hopefully you will all work it out at the end. Thanks @buckybarnesevents

Also, like in the cinema, don't leave straight away....

Beta’d by @buckysbarne

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and banner by me

Master list | Hot Bucky Summer Master list | Chapter 4

Summary: You return to Bucky’s mansion after quitting your job and confronting Walker. Are you ready for the rest of your life to properly begin?

Relationship: Mob! Bucky x Undercover Agent! Reader

WC: 3.4k

CW: Soft!Dark! Bucky, Canon Typical Violence, Russian Pet names as mangled by Google translate, Explicit sexual content (body worship, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected PinV sex), Minor character death

The car came to a halt, pulling you from your memories.

Had it only been a few days ago that you’d woken, tied to a chair in Bucky’s office, scared for your life but trying not to show it?

A few days in which he’d convinced you that not only did he wish you no harm, he actually admired you and thought that you could change your life for the better by joining in.

Were you ready to throw your morals away for the promise of a better life and, by all indications so far, mind-blowing sex? Surely people did that everyday in the name of capitalism?

“I can hear you thinking, Pchelka.” At the sound of Bucky’s amused voice, you lifted your head from where it had been resting on his shoulder during the car ride, and looked up at him.

Despite the fact that you’d been living in his mansion for a week and spending a significant portion of each of your days with him, his beauty still took your breath away, more so when he unleashed a smile.

The feared mob boss reached out to cup your jaw, rubbing a rough thumb across your cheek..

“Don’t second guess yourself, milyy. You did wonderfully. You did what you had to do, and now you are free. Free to do what you want, what pleases you.”

His eyes sparkled and you felt emboldened. The car may have stopped but the doors hadn’t yet opened, despite the fact that Bucky’s driver had already alighted. Taking advantage of the apparent privacy, you twisted in your seat, and moved to straddle Bucky’s lap. His lips twitched, suppressing a smile, although he did raise one of his eyebrows. You grasped the lapels of his suit for balance and then ground down over his already partially chubbed up cock.

“What if I want to ‘do’ you? I have a feeling you’ll more than please me.”

It was obvious from the flex in his jaw that he was finding it harder to keep a straight face.

“Let it never be said that I don’t give a lady exactly what she wants and needs.”

In a move that surprised you, he flung open the door, swivelled in his seat and stood out of the car, with you clinging to him. His hands were under your ass, hoisting you up and your legs wrapped instinctively around his waist. That it had the unfortunate effect of sending your skirt shooting up around your own waist had you squeaking in embarrassment, but your soon to be lover just chuckled.

“There’s no-one around, Pchelka.”

You peeked, firstly over his shoulder and then turned your head to look around further. He was right, of course. For once you couldn’t see hide-nor-hair of any of his guards or close associates, not even Sam.

“Show me your bedroom, Bucky.”

You kissed him then, harshly and with a fierce need, as though the damn holding your back had finally burst. Unfortunately it made it rather hard for him to carry out your request, so he only indulged you for a few moments, drawing away before you were ready to let him go, and he chuckled again at the needy noise you let out.

“Patience, lyubimaya. If you wish to be made love too in comfortable surroundings you need to let me take you upstairs. There’ll be time in the future for more… unusual trysts.”

His mocking words, no matter how affectionately meant, had heat racing to your cheeks and you buried your head into his shoulder. Your mind was assaulted by thoughts of Buckty taking you in the back of his expensive car, of him bending you over the desk in his office, of him between your thighs in his home cinema as some erotic French art house film played on the screen. You let out another whine, your hips bucking against his torso as your body sought friction for your aching clit.

Thankfully, Bucky managed to get inside the house and upstairs in record time, shouldering the door to his room open, kicking it closed and then laying you on the bed, following your down so his body pressed into the V of your hips, and finally kissing you back as ardently as you’d kissed him minutes before.

The beard scruff covering his cheeks and chin, scratched across your skin, but you didn’t care. His hands skimmed down to your waist, kneading your soft flesh over your clothes, before tunnelling under your blouse, freeing it from your skirt and starting to work on the delicate buttons that held the soft silk closed. You gasped at his touch, and at the way his kisses moved from your lips to pepper your jaw and then your throat.

The buttons dealt with, Bucky eased the front of your top apart, baring your lace covered breasts to his gaze.

“Prekrasnyy!”

You may not have understood what it was he said, but the tone in which he said it, and the way in which he ducked his head to press his lips to the swell of your breasts, explained enough. When his mouth moved lower, sucking on your flesh through the lace, your body arched up, your hands flying to his short hair and clutching his head. You didn’t know whether to push him away or pull him closer, the stimulation sending your senses into a tailspin.

As Bucky worshipped your breasts, his left hand, the one so artfully decorated with ink, slid up the outside of your right thigh, skimming over the stockings you wore, until they reached the clasp of your garter belt. He deftly dealt with the two clips, and then his hand was pushing up under the belt to grasp your ass again, squeezing gently as you sighed and moaned beneath him.

His mouth continued its journey southwards, until it was halted by the bunched up fabric of your skirt. His deep chuckle, by now one of your favourite sounds, broke from him again as he eased away from you. However, he took hold of your hands, drawing you up into a sitting position as he dropped to his knees in front of you. 

The image of the most powerful man in New York acting and looking subservient to you sent a fresh rush of arousal to your pussy, and you were certain that your new, La Perla panties were hopelessly ruined.

With his ice blue eyes never looking away from your face, he slipped your blouse from your shoulders, whisking it away and, without a care, tossing it away from the bed. His hands slid around your ribcage, to the fastening of your bra. He tilted his head, a silent question, to which you replied with a small nod, your lower lip held gently between your teeth in anticipation. The lace dropped away quickly, and you heard Bucky’s intake of breath and saw his eyes darken.

“Tak ochen', ochen' krasivo.”

You expected him to take your breasts into his mouth again, but he surprised you with his actions, instead peppering your sensitive skin with gentle kisses. His stubble tickled you and your skin puckered, your nipples standing to attention.

Bucky’s hands then moved to your waist.

“Up, Pchelka.”

You stood, and your one loosened stocking slithered slowly down your leg. But your lover ignored it, instead pulling your skirt back down over your ass and thighs, but only so he could reach the zipper and undo it. It too pooled at your ankles, but Bucky steadied you as you stepped out of it. He then undid your one remaining stocking and removed your garter belt.

“Sit again, milyy.”

As you sank back down onto the counterpane, painfully aroused and almost vibrating with anticipation, Bucky lifted your right foot onto his knee, undoing the ankle strap of your shoe and removing it just as gently as every other item of your clothing, his fingers returning quickly to divest you of your stocking, before doing the same to the other foot. 

With you now only wearing your panties, Bucky rose to his feet and stepped back. He loosened the tie at his neck, undoing it and tossing it away, his eyes still fixed on yours, and you swallowed thickly. His jacket quickly followed, shucked and discarded at lightning speed, but when he unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt, you let out another whine, pressing your thighs together.

He gave you a knowing smirk and you mentally cursed him, however, when he finally released all the buttons of his shirt and let the fine cotton slip to the floor, it was your turn to gasp. You obviously knew about the tattoo on his left arm, but he now revealed to you that it covered his left shoulder and the top of his chest on that side. You itched to trail your finger over the twisting vines and ask him what the various words meant, but now wasn’t the time. Especially as now Bucky had, oh-so-slowly, popped the fly of his pants and was drawing the fabric down over his thick thighs, and…

Oh my…

Black boxer briefs clung to him like a second skin, leaving very little to the imagination, and you knew you were staring.

“My face is up here, sladkiy…” That condescending note appeared in his voice again and you automatically dropped your chin and turned your head, for some reason feeling ashamed, yet also excited. 

Bucky didn’t let you hide for long. He was back on his knees, between your legs, tilting your chin up with his index finger.

“Don’t hide from me, Pchelka. And never apologise for looking at what’s yours. Because I am. And you are mine. Now, lie back and I will prove how much I worship you.”

You eased back onto your elbows, and Bucky curled his fingers around the waistband of your panties. You lifted your hips and finally you were fully exposed. For a moment Bucky said nothing, just placed his hands on your thighs and gazed at your sex. His hands shifted, his thumbs reaching up to spread your folds open, and he groaned. Then, without any further warning he bent his head those last few inches and licked a stripe right up your weeping pussy, flicking over your erect clit.

Your elbows gave out, your head meeting the mattress with a dull thud. Bucky’s fingers tightened on the malleable flesh of your thighs as he explored your folds. All you could do was moan and mutter ‘yesyesyesyesyes’, over and over again. When he pressed one of his fingers into you, you almost came on the spot, your body clutching at the intruding digit, squeezing around it, greedy for more. Then, as if he could read your mind, after a few exploratory thrusts, he added a second finger.

Your eyes rolled back in your head, and you palmed at your breasts. With his free hand, Bucky lifted one of your legs and placed it over his shoulder holding you open and pulling you impossibly closer. You thought you’d known pleasure when he’d touched you before, but this was different, both exquisite and tortuous. It was as though he knew when you were approaching your peak and purposely changing tack to keep you hovering right on the edge.

Then it hit you. He was ensuring that you were just how he wanted you - spread open and needy.

You let out a whimper, knowing you were playing directly into his hands, and not caring in the slightest. You wanted him. No, needed him. As if he were the very air you needed to breathe.

“Bucky!” Your stomach tightened and your legs trembled as you wailed out your plea. You no longer cared how pathetic and wrecked you sounded.

You felt him shift between your thighs, his face leaving your soaking pussy and you raised your head to look at him. His eyes were dark with lust, his cheeks pink and his mouth wet with your arousal. You reached out your arms, making pathetic grabby motions with your hands and with a smile Bucky climbed up onto the bed. 

Aware of how your legs dangled over the edge of the mattress, you shuffled up the counterpane as Bucky’s form slinked forward, covering your own. You lifted your right leg to hook over his still clothed hip, your body arching up against his erection.

“It’s okay, Pchelka. I’m here. Soon, soon.”

He kissed you, transferring your essence from his lips to yours. His left hand cupped your face, his weight on his forearm, while with his right he pushed down his briefs. Your hands gripped his shoulders, and when you felt his cock settle between your folds, hard and hot, your nails dug into his skin as you gasped. Then his hand was between you, notching himself at your entrance, and you lifted your hips to help him. 

Bucky sank home, engulfed by the clutch of your body and the sound of your twin moans filled the room. He thrust into you gently, still kissing you and your arms left their death grip on his shoulders to twine around his neck. You moved together, an erotic version of the dance you’d had when you’d first met, and Bucky was right - you just fit so well.

The fire inside you, which Bucky had so carefully stoked with his earlier endeavours, became an inferno. You didn’t want this to end, but at the same time you ached with the need for that ultimate satisfaction, and wanted to feel him find his in your body.

“Bucky, please.” You whispered against his mouth, and without missing a beat, he moved his left hand from your face to where you were joined and using his unerring instinct to touch you just right, drew soft circles on your clit, spreading your arousal over the bundle of nerves.

You came.

Hard.

Your voice let out a strangled cry, your eyes squeezing so tightly shut that tears rolled down your face. Your hips continued to meet Bucky’s, thrust for thrust, and he let out a few small grunts, letting you know he was close too. As your body shuddered with the aftershocks, you cupped his face with your hands.

“Come for me, Bucky. Please. I need to feel you.”

“Moya malen’kaya pchelka. Moya koroleva. Nastol’ko sovershenen. Perfect.”

You felt his hips stutter and loose rhythm, and felt the warmth of him flood you as he let out a deep groan. His body collapsed on yours and you ran your hands up and down his sweat-coated back, basking in your shared closeness. After a few moments he rolled to the side, his arms keeping you flush to him. You tipped your head up to look at him, and he smiled back down at you.

“Sleep, lyubimyy. It’s been an eventful day. We can talk more in the morning.”

You nodded against his chest, sighing in satisfaction and accepting your body’s request for slumber. You whined as he eased away from you, the mattress shifting as he got up, but he returned quickly, a warm, wet washcloth making its way between your legs.

Bucky got back in, sitting up against the headboard, and tucking you against his side, your legs tangled. As you drifted off, you heard the soft chirp of his phone.

“Is it done?... Good work, Sam. The message should be clear enough.”

Tag list: @jobean12-blog @sidepartskinnyjeans @flordeamatista @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @goldylions @luxeavenger @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @chemtrails-club @seitmai @talia-rumlow @peaches1958 @pono-pura-vida @writing-for-marvel @kmc1989 @casa-boiardi

Post Credits Scene

Sam chuckled into the phone.

“Clear as crystal, boss.”

The call ended and he pocketed his phone, before looking back down at the ground. 

Walker’s blue, lifeless eyes started up at him, the bullet hole in his head a gorey facsimile of a third one. The former agent, and grade A douchebag was sprawled in the alley outside of his favourite bar. 

Sam knew he should get going - this watering hole didn’t lack for patrons and it wouldn’t be long before the body was discovered - however, he needed to find the bullet, and remove all traces of himself.

It hadn’t been hard to carry out Bucky’s orders. Walker was - had been - nothing but predictable, heading straight there after his confrontation with the boss and his little bee. Sam smiled to himself. It had only been a week and he already had a soft spot for Bucky’s Queen. She’d do the boss good - he’d already noticed a change in Bucky’s demeanour, and so far it was all for the better. He’d have taken out Walker for her, even if Bucky hadn’t asked.

Sam had bided his time though, waiting for night to fall before taking any action. Walker liked to come outside into the alley behind the bar for a smoke. Sometimes Hoskins came with him, sometimes he came alone. He wouldn’t have minded shooting Hoskins too, but someone had to relay the message.

His opportunity came at around quarter to eleven. The rear door of the bar opened with a crash and Walker stumbled through it, so drunk he could barely stand. He slumped against the wall, and pulled a battered box of cigarettes from his pocket. He placed a smoke between his lips and started to spin the steel wheel of his lighter. It sparked, but didn’t light and Walker cursed to himself.

Taking that as his cue, Sam had stepped out from where he’d been hiding himself. His target had looked up, but had been too drunk to be wary.

“Hey man, you got a li…”

He didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence, as Sam had raised his arm and shot him straight in the forehead, decorating the wall behind him with his brains. Sam had considered taunting him, but what would’ve been the point? The man would die anyway, and in reality he wasn’t worth any extra time or energy. The corpse had slithered down the wall before tilting sideways, barely coming to rest before Sam had pulled out his phone to notify Bucky. 

With that done, Sam pulled out his flick knife, stepped over the corpse, and dug the bullet out of the brickwork. Pocketing both, he was about to make his way out of the alley to walk the half a block to where he’d left his car when he suddenly halted.

Being in the business he was, he’d developed keen senses and knew when he was being watched. He waited a breath, and then another. The sound of a glass bottle falling over and a stifled gasp had him pinpointing where the watcher was hiding - down the side of the large garbage bin, behind a pile of overflowing bags.

Four large strides and he was there, pulling the refuse sacks away.

“What have we got here?”

A pair of large, sunken eyes in a gaunt face, surrounded by dirt matted hair looked up at him in fear.

“I won’t say anything, mister. I promise. Please don’t kill me.”

Sam was torn. He killed who needed to be killed, avoiding collateral damage at all costs, but he couldn’t afford to leave a witness either. And this girl - no, young woman - obviously hadn’t had an easy life so far. He reached out toward her and she shrank back, squeezing her eyes shut as she undoubtedly prepared herself for her last moments. Then, unexpectedly, she sagged, her face going slack, and Sam realised she’d fainted.

Fuck!

He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t kill her. But he couldn’t just leave her here either. He knew what type of predators were out at this time. Hell, he was technically one of them.

He dragged his palm down his face and pulled his phone back out, dialling a different number than earlier.

“Steve? It’s me. I’ve got a situation and I need you to bring the car around to the back of the alley. And try and be stealthy this time, man….Yeah, fuck you too.”

With a sigh, he cut the call, shoved his phone back in his pocket and bent down to scoop his new charge - cos he sure as hell knew that he’d just made her his responsibility - into his arms. She weighed far too little, and that realisation caused some kind of ache inside him. He didn’t want to investigate that feeling too much. 

As he walked down the alley, a passed out homeless girl in his arms, Sam wondered what the fuck he’d gotten himself into?

#bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #hot bucky summer #hotbuckysummer2023 #late writes #mob!bucky x reader #mob au #mob!bucky

[ecargmura]

Paradox Live Episode 7 Review - Boys On The Rooftop

Before I start the review, I want to thank people who left comments on my review of the previous episode. I really appreciate your time explaining to me about the source material and what part was anime original and what not. I’m glad I’m writing reviews. The engagement and interactions motivate me to keep going. Now, onto the review!

(TW: S**cide)

I was told last week that this week’s episode was going to be a strong one. I agree with their statement wholeheartedly. This was quite the episode. It answered the questions I had in the previous episode, but also gave me new questions. It was nice to see the overall plot slowly coming into play here.

Last episode, Shiki told Ryu that the ghost in that building could’ve been the friend that he killed. While Ryu doesn’t believe him (also had some weird split personality moment), Shiki decides to head out to check the building one day. It turns out that he has a past with Nayuta. Shiki grew up a loner, but encountered Nayuta one day and became friends. Their friendship was so cute and sweet to look at! Nayuta had a mysterious part-time job that turned out to being a lab rat; I assume he was being experimented on by Alter Trigger? Anyways, the experiments got to be too much as he developed Phantometal corrosion and decided to jump off the building to not make Kanata worry. Unfortunately, this left Shiki traumatized for good. I finally understand why he’s always apologizing when getting a trap reaction. That is seriously something traumatizing for Shiki.

Now this pegs the question of just who Nayuta is. Why is Nayuta still alive with Kanata but supposedly died when he was with Shiki a few years ago? What’s with the long-haired Nayuta in the post-credit scenes? I made some theories after watching the episode. I think Nayuta survived the fall in the past and that’s why he’s stuck in the lab present day. But then who’s the Nayuta with Kanata in the current time? I’m theorizing that the current Nayuta is an apparition created from Kanata’s phantometal as that was the reason why Kanata had a nightmare about Nayuta dissolving into liquid. Maybe he knew Nayuta had died, so he uses his phantom metal to create a projection? But he can still eat, right? Or was the bowl that ramen guy was eyeing in Episode 5 Nayuta’s? All I can say is that there’s really more to Nayuta than meets the eye. I really want to know the truth.

Is phantometal corrosion the reason why Hajun is visiting a back-alley doctor? Does Hajun have symptoms? Can it be cured? I hope this illness can be explained in a future episode, because I think it makes the plot even more interesting than before. Is the Akira Ishida character the final boss of sorts?

The special ending song with Nayuta and Shiki was wonderful! I really liked it! I think the lyrics summarize their relationship perfectly. Is this a new Paradox Live song or something they had before? The special artwork was really beautiful. I’m making it the thumbnail for this review because that is way too gorgeous to pass up. Also, what I noticed was that the preview for this episode was shrouded in purple and blue last week. This makes sense as Nayuta is in cozmez and Shiki’s in TCW. I do wonder why they titled it “Love”. Are they hinted to be canon? ARE THERE EVEN ANY CANON PAIRS IN THIS STORY?

When my bunch of questions are answered, I get more. I’m getting invested in Paradox Live a lot. I can’t wait for next week as it seems to be BAE vs Akan Yatsura. I hope it’d be a good episode! What are your thoughts on this episode?

#paradox live #paradox live the animation #shiki ando #nayuta yatonokami #cozmez #the cat's whiskers #tcw #review #anime #anime review #ecargmura #arum journal

[i-care-bout-things-too]

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

❌ What's a trope you will never write?

🎶 Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?

✨ Give you and your writing a compliment. Go on now. You know you deserve it. 😉

🛒 What are some common things you incorporate in your fics? Themes, feels, scenes, imagery, etc.

🎢 Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?

🤡 What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh?

Love you babe!! I know the answer to some of these but 🫶

Wheezing so hard rn kitty cat you sent like 1/3 the list

Okay so—

👀: I started a Jon/Dami civilian au FOREVER ago, and it’s *this* close to being finished. I really can’t wait to post it because it’s a fun mix of fluffy and angsty (the latter is my specialty), where Jon/Dami have a very unusual first meeting when Damian walks into the veterinarians office Jon works at concussed, bleeding, and cuddling an inured raccoon.

“I am fine.” He says, resisting Jon’s attempts to be seated. He ignores Jon’s bewildered look as well and proffers up the raccoon he’s swaddled and had up to that point been practically cuddling. “Help him. I have grievously injured him and I am at fault.”

While admirable, Jon really wants to point out that he also looks pretty injured and also needs help. “Sir,” He replies calmly, even though this guy can’t be too much older than him. “You’re bleeding. I will help both of you, but we need to call 911 now and get your head checked. If I give you the phone and take the raccoon, could you describe the situation to an operator and explain what happened?”

To Jon’s horror, tears well up in the man’s green eyes. “You’re right. We should call the police, I need to be arrested for taking his life.”

❌: hmmm, now this is a bit of a hard one, I tend to write across a bunch of tropes and don’t really judge people for indulging in theirs… I genuinely can’t think of an answer, you’ll have to tell me something I forgot after I post this.

🎶: I’m always listening to music while I write. My music varies heavily month to months. I tend to find a new batch of songs and listen to them on loop while I write until it’s done or I get sick of them. As you know, I listened to Stranger by Thomas Day for the second chapter of the fic I gifted you, Rook, which is about very sad, angsty stuff centered around Tim and Damian. Click the fic name to end up on ao3!

✨: I actually love my own work sometimes, maybe not *always*, but there are fics I’m especially proud of. I’ll recommend (myself, yes!) Leave a Message, which is a civilian au fic about Damian celebrating his second Christmas ever, while really missing Dick who’s driving a taxi around Bludhaven unable to remember his family who’s waiting for him to come home. Trust me on this one, read it, I won’t let you down.

🛒: Damian running away. It’s a staple in a decent number of my fics, possibly because he does it A LOT in canon too. If I counted the number of fics where Damian was running away from his family or his problems, I think I’d be counting a majority of my fics.

🎢: This…okay look, I’m answering these like I’ve only ever written Batfam fic, which isn’t true, but we’re going to pretend it is to persevere some of my dignity. ANYWAY, definitely going to point a finger at Unimportant and Like We Were Then. Unimportant has spiralled beyond my control, and there are characters and things going on in it that I wasn’t planning for or expecting. Meanwhile, LWWT went from a 5+1 to a 33k word monstrosity with a plot that wasn’t planned either, but I’m actually quite proud of. Hoping to get the epilogue up soon ♥️

🤡: Basically the entirety of I Think I Have A Ghost in which Jason can’t remember his time in the league, and there’s a small child sized wraith who’s been following him around for weeks. These things are not unrelated. I’m proud of both works in the series, but particularly:

He drops a bag of tea in each mug, sits on one of a few stools around the kitchen island, and slides one of the mugs across the table to the side opposite of him.

He waits for the presence to decide what it wants to do.

“It’s going to over steep.” He tries.

It shouldn’t work. What ghost drinks tea?

Apparently, his.

The kid, because it really is an actual child, on silent feet, steps through the doorway to the kitchen and scales the stool in front of the steeping tea. All of this is done without a sound or any indication that this whole situation is really bizarre.

Jason raises a brow at the kid, and takes a sip of his tea. The kid copies the motion, only making the slightest face of distaste.

So not only is he not a ghost, Jason decides, he’s a posh not-a-ghost.

“Cool.” Jason says. “Wanna explain whatever this—” He motions between them, “—Is, kid?

The kid takes a longer sip.

Okay then.

Thank you for asking all these, Kat ♥️

#dc #dc comics #batfam #batfamily #damian wayne #damian al ghul #dc robin #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #nightwing #red hood #red robin #fanfic #fanfiction #ask game #ask me stuff #asks #ask #jon kent #super boy #damijon #supersons

[strawwritesfic]

Loki Laufeyson x Female!SHIELD Agent!Reader: Burdened with Glorious Sacrifices

Summary: Loki is burdened with many things, but luckily, you aren’t one those burdens.

Rating/Warnings: All (Post-Avengers (2012); canon divergence Post-Avengers (2012); not canon compliant; fangirls; fanboys; Helicarrier; SHEILD Agent!Reader; Lab assistant!Reader; fluff)

Requester: Anonymous

Tag List: @imaginesfire​

Request: “Can I request one where random SHIELD agents flirt with Loki but he shows no interest in them cause he fell for a shy lab assistant instead? Everyone was surprised cause they expected him to go for someone stronger and more confident but Loki likes the idea of being the big protector and having some [sic] rely on his strength. He adores her shyness and tender heart and treats her like a princess."

Notes: A request long, long, long in the making. Goodness, I think it's been over two years since this anonymous person asked for this. It's not a terribly interesting interpretation of the request. They can't all be. But I feel that it meets the requirements, and I'm ready to move on to the rather more...colorful Loki request on my list—and put a dent in my expansive request list. If you're the person that asked me for this all those months ago, I hope you enjoy this!

Burdened with Glorious Sacrifices

At long, long, long last, you found yourself in the midst of a moment of perfect quiet. No Klaxons blaring, no unit head barking orders, no rock music pounding fit to shake the walls. Such moments were hard to come by on the S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier. Coworkers and bosses alike expected a lot of even a lowly laboratory assistant such as yourself. Go here; pick up this; learn to shoot that. Things had only gotten worse since the start of the Avengers Initiative, too. So when you finally had your usual lab to yourself, was it any wonder that you jumped at the chance to spend some alone time with the Hulk blood sample that had been sitting inside the Stark Industries-powered fridge all week?

"So that's how that works," you murmured to the empty room.

You hardly dared to remove your eye from the microscope long enough to scrawl down a few lines of notes. Someone else might shatter your solitude at any minute, wresting the instrument from you or demanding an errand that would pull you away from the sample. The Avengers were all onboard that day, true—something that went a long way in explaining the vacancy of your typically bustling workstation—but if Director Fury got it in his head that something needed done right away, the presence of superheroes wouldn't prevent someone interrupting you to take care of whatever it was Fury demand. You wanted to take advantage of being without company for as long as possible.

"Agent [L Name]," said a woman behind you.

Only your several years of (generally useless) field training prevented you from shrieking at this sudden invasion of your quiet time. Unfortunately, said training did not prevent you from sucking in a breath and turning on the spot.

Maria Hill rolled her eyes at your behavior. Your cheeks grew hot as she uncrossed arms and made her way over to your lab table.

"Yes, Commander?" you asked weakly.

Her stern expression didn't shift. "You're needed on the bridge."

Well, that couldn't be good. Lab assistants, as a rule, didn't get called to the bridge. They especially did not get called to the bridge in person by S.H.I.E.L.D.'s second-in-command. You licked your lips at the thought of just why anyone up there might want to see you, then asked:

"You came up here to tell me that? Why didn't you just use the intercom?"

"I did."

Clearly, your play for time wasn't about to earn you any points with Maria. You gulped and went on in a rush, "I really can't come to the bridge right this very minute, Commander. I just got to work on this sample. Would it be all right if I came up when I'm finished? It shouldn't be more than an hour."

Oh, who were you kidding? You weren't going to get out of trouble that way. No one had told you to look at the blood to begin with. All you'd likely managed with that stunt would be making Maria extra angry for not asking her how high when she said jump.

To your very great surprise, however, she narrowed her eyes at you for a mere handful of seconds before she turned to leave.

"Fine," she said.

"Fine?"

"Fine." She paused at the door to throw a very characteristic look at you over her shoulder. "But I can't guarantee that he'll still be in one piece when you get there."

"He? Who's he?"

"Your boyfriend. It's his check-in day. Don't tell me you forgot."

Your heart squeezed painfully in your chest. In the midst of your excitement to find yourself alone at work for once, you had entirely forgotten about the one day a month you could easily (and legally) see Loki. That Maria herself had come searching for you to attend to something regarding him could only be bad news. Before she could make it to the lift down the hallway, you put all your equipment and the blood sample away at a speed that might have got you mistaken for an Enhanced. Then you hurried after her to step inside the elevator before the doors closed.

Maria said nothing. Her pursed lips told you everything. Even if you'd had the wits about you to ask what Loki had done this time, you probably wouldn't have. What if you didn't like the answer? Taking a cue from her lack of small talk, you stared at the vertical crack in front of you so hard that your eyes began to water.

The doors opened seconds later. Maria unwound her crossed arms long enough to motion for you to step outside ahead of her. You could already hear a commotion coming from closer to the control point in the center of the bridge. Several voices spoke over each other in what sounded like excited—not terrified—tones, but you couldn't quite hear what they were saying well enough to confirm everyone's mood. Fury wouldn't call you in to stop a fight (not when he could get the satisfaction of seeing Captain America smash Loki's nose in with his shield), but Maria? Maria just might get more satisfaction out of seeing one of your coworkers smash your nose in instead.

You left the lift with your pulse pounding, though you did keep your arms from shaking at least. It took quite a bit of effort on your part to keep your eyes wide open as the bridge came into view. Bright afternoon sky blazed through the many windows. No dark figure stood at the controls, however. Fury must have had better things to do than referee whatever was going on.

And soon you spotted exactly what that was. One of the computer stations had drawn a crowd. A good six or seven S.H.I.E.L.D. agents dressed in familiar navy uniforms stood talking eagerly over one another. Fury had recently blocked all copies of Galaga on the organization computers, and last you'd heard, Mr. Stark hadn't come up with a way around it yet. Nobody was clustered around Cameron to watch him beat his latest high score, then.

Then you saw who the crowd was talking to. Just why Maria had called you up on Loki's check-in day became clear at once. A tall, dark-haired man with hollow cheeks stood at the center of the cluster of agents. A thick collar wrapped around his neck, and gleaming gold shackles kept his wrists firmly pulled toward the desk in front of him. As usual, Loki managed to look completely unbothered by such instruments as he smiled sardonically at the people surrounding him.

"Poor thing," you heard a woman say as you drew closer. "It can't be comfortable standing like that for hours on end."

"You've been waiting there for a long time, man. Are you thirsty? I could bring you some tea," said a man.

"Forget that! I brought grapes in my lunch. I could feed them to you one by one," said a second woman.

"Now, now," Loki purred. "You may all bring your offerings to me."

An excited murmur rose from the group as Loki’s green eyes swept across it.

“You.” He gestured as best he could with his hands restrained as they were. "Run along and retrieve those grapes. My beloved brother did not allow me to partake in breakfast before he insisted we traverse the realms, and who knows when he'll be back to retrieve me for lunch?"

A short-statured woman broke away to trot off in the direction of the nearest break room. She wore a glowing expression, and she did not stop to speak with you as she passed. The rest of the waiting agents resumed their fussing at once.

"He really shouldn't leave you chained like this."

"What if the Helicarrier falls out of the sky and you can't get out?"

"We could lose engine power again at any minute!"

"Truly," Loki bowed his head. "But then, Thor never has thought much about my well-being. It all started when I was about seventy years old..."

At last, you thought you were close enough to be heard without raising your voice. "Loki?"

His mouth snapped shut mid-sentence. The onlookers leaned in eagerly, waiting to hear the rest of his tale. Loki, however, looked over in your direction the moment he'd gathered his thoughts.

"[Name]!" he said.

The obvious delight in his tone caught his audience's attention. Every single person's head snapped toward you in unison—and not a single expression appeared happy.

You gulped.

"Ladies, gentlemen, and nonbinary beings," Loki announced, "Agent [L Name]!"

All your coworkers continued to stare at you wordlessly. You could feel Maria doing the exact same thing behind you. Probably her idea of calling you up here had not involved giving Loki a better opportunity to show off. Thank God Fury seemed to be elsewhere that day. He would have already thrown the both of you into the newly repaired Hulk cell.

"Hi," you said uncomfortably.

"What are you doing here? I thought you'd be busy with work," said Loki.

Before you could answer, one of the men said, "yeah, [L Name]. What are you doing on the bridge? Don't you belong downstairs where you won't get in the way?"

If he could have seen Loki's expression growing colder and colder, that agent probably wouldn't have finished his sentence. As it was, the ice in Loki's genes was apparent as he said, "you will address her as Agent [L Name] until such a time as she requests you do otherwise."

The man looked as though he'd been slapped.

"So [Name]?" Loki turned the full force of his smile on you. "Why have you deigned to grace this vessel's bridge with your presence?"

"Commander Hill came and got me." You took a deep breath before plunging on: "She wanted me to come break this up. You're all causing a scene."

"A scene?" Now one of the women spoke up, indignant.

"We were all just talking until you barged in," said another.

"Why would Hill bother asking you to break up anything?" asked a man.

"What are you supposed to do to make us leave?"

"You're only a lab assistant."

"You can't even use your I.C.E.R. properly."

"Not to mention that all of us outrank you!"

Over and over and over they beat you with their words. You struggled to stand up straight under the full force of them. What could you say to defend yourself? They were right, each and every one of them. If only Loki hadn't been there to hear it. Maybe you didn't hang your head; maybe you didn't even flinch. But your lower lip trembled, and you knew that the moment Loki spotted that, he'd lose interest in you on the spot. Princes from other realms—even princes currently under galactic house arrest—didn't date girls so easily cowed by their peers.

“Silence!”

This voice belonged to Loki, and so people did, in fact, fall silent. Even the woman before, returning clutching a bag of red grapes, didn’t voice her obvious confusion. One by one, each of the agents present turned their attention back to him. But a smile no longer grace his narrow features. He stood at his tallest, head up to gaze down his nose at those surrounding him with undisguised scorn.

“I warn the lot of you to not insult the love of my considerably long life,” he said. “After all, your lives working for such a sloppily led organization will certainly be cut so short that none of you will be capable of so much as grasping what such a love entails. That [Name] has selected a more reasonable assignment does not make her lesser. In fact, I should think her career choice proves her vastly more intelligent that the standard-issue SHIELD agent that you all proclaim to be.”

You bit your lower lip, bracing yourself for another round of mockery.

One never came. Many grumbles did, as well as dark backward looks, but no one said a word as the group slowly dispersed. The woman with the grapes left without further comment herself.

Then you found yourself alone with Loki at last. When you finally gathered enough courage to face him, you found his frosty demeanor gone. In its place was a warm smile.

“Are you all right?” he asked gently.

What could you do in response to that besides hurry over to hug him?

“Thank you,” murmured into his neck.

“For what?”

“Saying all those nice things about me.”

“For once,” Loki said as you lifted your head to smile at him, “I only spoke the truth.”

Most people claimed Thor to be the most princely of the Asgardian brothers, but when Loki said things like that, you couldn’t imagine that was true. Loki’s charm struck you speechless. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to expect an answer from you on this occasion.

“Would you do me the honor of joining me for lunch?” he asked.

Your heart soared. “I’d love to.”

“Good. I’ll need feeding, seeing as you chased off my potential servant.”

Was he joking? With Loki, it was hard to tell. You decided to assume he was in this case. Chuckling, you stood on your toes to give him a swift kiss.

“I’ll be back in an hour,” you told him.

“I’ll be waiting, my princess. Unless, of course, Thor happens to remember where he left me before then.”

“Tell him to wait until we’re done with lunch. You need sustenance. I love you,” you added as you turned to leave.

“I love you as well.”

You shot him an enormous grin before you walked back to the lift. Several of the agents stationed nearby rapidly looked away from you and back at their screens as you passed. Maria remained exactly where you’d last seen her only long enough to roll her eyes. After that, she went to stand in Fury’s usual position on the bridge, and pretended as though she didn't see you hurrying back to your post.

Did you care? Not at all. Let them stare. Let them gossip. Though you were hardly the bravest, strongest, or smartest agent S.H.I.E.L.D. had to offer, Loki had chosen you. He could have chosen anyone, any of those vastly more talented people willing to sacrifice just about anything for him. But when your eyes found him one last time before the elevator doors closed, you saw him smiling at you from across the room.

A love like that was even harder to come across than the peace and quiet you’d been trying to enjoy earlier that day. Thankfully, Maria had interrupted all that. If it came down to a choice between standing in the center of attention or hiding in your lab, when it came to Loki, you’d pick standing in the center of attention every single time.Post Work

#fan fic #straw writes #reader insert #second person pov #one shot #request #request fic #loki #loki layfeyson #loki odinson #avengers #avengers 2012 #marvel #mcu #thor #loki x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson x y/n #loki laufeyson x you #avengers x reader #avengers x you #avengers x y/n #marvel x reader #marvel x you #marvel x y/n #mcu x reader #mcu x you #mcu x y/n

[candybowbeansies]

Colors and Promises

warnings/notes: reader is preggers, ya'lls aren’t married cuz he’s literally a criminal, yandere Dabi if u squint, SOFT DABI SOFT DABI WOOWOO,  soft angst like very soft, fluff, soft kisses, slow dancing(its canon, he dances), man produces steam(literally. read and you'll know what i mean ;3), ya'll have a complicated relationship but its still cute tho, soulmate au if u squint, spoilers on his real name and hints at things about him/his past, Romantic Beach Meetup™️ and its lofi, you eventually spill the beanz finkin bout breaking up w him cuz bb(s) 🥺 growing a family is hardcoded into his DNA so don't worry much--

TWO THIS TIMEE yis same song, separate artists! Tokoyami, our sweetbeak, and Overhaul(big spoilers? ig) our beloved mad surgeon gremlin next!

~Masterlist~

heart beats fast~

You’re perched on the cement seawall, not another soul in sight, staring off into the horizon, phone in hand. Yours and his song plays on repeat in your earbuds, because you’ve finally made up your mind. See, the man you love is a wanted criminal. You’ve been with him for years, starting off as friends with benefits because you braved flirting with him. True to the song, the moment you laid your eyes on him, you knew right then and there…you’d found a place for your heart. You were afraid to fall deeper, but how could you not? Behind the stoic, crude, enigmatic man was a boy who wanted to love and be loved. And once he let you in, through all your efforts, he proved to be abrasive, yes; but he was honest and loyal to a fault. 

Children were never spoken about. From what he’s confided in you about his past, you had a gut-sinking feeling that he never wanted any. Busy with his activities, the two of you would tryst every few weeks to a few months at most. He was never gone from your side longer than three months. 

It was two months ago you’d found out you were pregnant.

Your phone buzzes with a message from an unknown number as tears fall. 

i’m close.

You scrub away those tears, recognizing his brief style.

i love you.

A small smile finds its way on your face, only for a short moment. In all honesty, you loved him, too. You’ve agonized over this since you found out, and came to the painful decision of breaking up with him the next time you and him meet.

You massage your baby bump-it was just beginning to show. One bud is plucked from your ear, and you jolt, your hand fleeing from your stomach. “Keep tellin’ ya, don’t use both of ‘em.” you hear a familiar voice chide. He’s finally here, you think, still not quite ready for, well…any of what’s going to happen.

You stare ahead at a particularly interesting point off in the distance as he plops down by your side while you bundle up your baggy jacket to hide them from him. The sun was already well below the horizon.

“I’m not always here to protect you, dove.” he says, the nickname falling from his lips affectionately. In the corner of your eye, you see him raise the earbud to rest it against his ear. You can hear his soft exhale, and practically feel his smile. 

“Our song.” he says, after several moments of silence that felt like an eternity to you. “What’s the occasion?” he asks, craning his head to look at you with a lopsided smile. This smile drops when he sees you’ve been crying. “You were crying.” he states, matter of factly, gears chugging in his head. It’s not long before the smile is back, larger than before. “Awe, did you miss me?” he teases, and you roll your eyes. You then hastily gather your earbuds and phone, sliding off the seawall with practiced grace, skipping off a few steps before turning around and sticking your tongue out at him.

“Of course I missed you, doooofus.” you tease back. “But that’s not the reason why. Come find out?” you beckon him, and this time it’s his turn to roll his eyes. “I’ll give you a head start, mouse.” he growls playfully. You squeak and dash off in excitement as he begins counting.

You would enjoy what little time left you had, you decided, your heart thudding against your ribcage in a bittersweet melody, laughter escaping you. You make record-breaking speed, but it isn’t long before you can hear his boots in the sand right behind you. You pick up your pace a little, squealing out towards the ocean, laughter still bubbling from you. No matter how hard you try, you just can’t beat Touya in a race for anything. 

He had his eyes on the prize-you-and he’d be damned if he didn’t get it. “Gotcha, mouse.” you hear him grunt right behind you, and not a moment later, you find yourself in his grasp. “Touya!” you shriek playfully as he lifts you and swings you around with jolly snickers. The momentum is enough to send your phone out of your pocket and onto the sand, your earbuds dislodging from the socket.

‘Heart beats fast Colors and promises How to be brave? How can I love, when I’m afraid to fall?’

He sets you down on your feet, the both of you looking at your phone. Somewhere along, the song switched from the lo-fi cover you’d liked so much to the original song on repeat.

‘But watching you stand alone? All of my doubt suddenly goes away somehow’

You turn around to face him, his turquoise hues looking down into yours. “Our song.” you say, and he smiles. “Our song.” he repeats after you. ‘One step closer,’ you hum along, the acoustics dancing in the salty breeze. The two of you gradually move into a slow sway, letting the music play. It isn’t long before he pipes up.

“You know what, fuck it. I suck at singing but who cares?” he says, and you huff out a laugh as he gives his best attempt at the second verse as it plays, completely and comically tone-deaf. 

‘Time stands still Beauty in all she is I will be brave I will not let anything take away What's standing in front of me Every breath Every hour has come to this’

You don’t care to stifle your giggles much, because he loved seeing you laugh-even at his own expense. The corners of his eyes crinkle warmly, and he ‘tries’ even louder. “Oh, stop!” you laugh, half-heartedly smacking his chest. Your laughter is short lived, however, as he leans down to capture your lips.

One step closer.

You wrap your arms around his torso, relishing in his warmth. The kiss breaks as the two of you sway, lost in each other’s embrace. You bury your face in his duster, wishing this moment would last longer, terrified of having to choose, despite already having made up your mind, because you were convinced he didn't want to be a father.

Only the two of you on the beach, beneath the moon, slow-dancing, kissed by the salty air of the sea, foamy waters lazily lapping at the sands; a picture-perfect moment in the lives of a struggling couple. What made you make this decision in the first place was because you didn’t want to nail him down, when he could be out there, being him. 

Free.

The song reaches its crescendo, and you tuck away all those fantasies of having a dysfunctional, yes-but happy nonetheless family-one by painstaking one.

One step closer.

Those words you prepared yourself to say…they die before they get the chance to form. And just like this, repeatedly, until the song ends, you try to actually say them.

“Touya…?” you say, your voice incredibly small. He hums in reply. No beating around the bush, you tell yourself. You sniff, peering up at him. He stares back at you, quizzically. “Dove?” he calls when you don’t speak. You smile.

It’s going to be okay.

“I found out…” you trail off, then sigh. “A couple of months ago.” you say, opting to stare at his shirt when he raises a brow. You briefly clench your jaw before spitting it out. “I’m pregnant.”

“I thought you should know…well, since…finding out much later would be fucked up, ya’know?” your voice wavers, tears beginning to gather at your eyes.

"I decided to keep it." the words tumble out of your mouth quickly, your resolve shattering as those tears begin to fall. "If you don't want to be there, I understand, you don't have--to-" your voice shrinks back as he grabs your chin and forces you to look up at him.

You blink away the blurriness caused by them…to see his widened turquoise hues brighter than ever. His throat bobs, an indistinct sound escaping him, steam emerging from his broken skin, in between the staples. 

This phenomenon happened when he was flustered; something only you could do to him. However, when it takes a blackish hue, that was a warning sign.

"Touya!" you gasp, reaching up to grab his face, afraid the man you loved would spontaneously combust, but he stops you in your tracks.

"You're pregnant?" he repeats this; over and over, stupified. You gulp, nodding once. "Yes. I am, and I--" "You want to keep it?" he interrupts, drowning out your soft tone.

You hesitate for a moment.

Not because you weren't sure if you really wanted to keep it...but because you were afraid. Afraid he wouldn't want it. Afraid you'd have to let him go. Afraid the life growing inside you would nail him down, somehow. Afraid he would feel caged in.

You gasp softly, your voice failing you. All you can do is nod, crocodile tears streaming from your eyes.

"Mine?" you hear the disbelief in his voice, blackish smoke erupting from his throat, followed by a harsh cough as you nod again, surely; "Damnit, dove."

He exhales the smoke, pointedly staring at the ocean behind you. "That's not smart." he tells you. You knew it wasn't, but you didn't give a damn. He huffs, and you try to pull away, but he's quick to encase you with his arms. Your heart beats a mile a minute as he speaks.

"I don't think I can be a good dad." he admits, and you want to rebuff him, but you manage to keep it down. "I'm a wanted man, dove." he says. You know.

"I'm a criminal. I can't provide like a normal man." he continues, and you clench your teeth. "I can't be there all the time." he says, his words sprouting hope inside you.

You knew he couldn't be there. And that was okay.

But...your worries were still there.

You open your mouth, weakly pushing him away. "But I'll be damned if if you try to run, dove." his words shut you up. "It won't be pretty." he growls, his voicebox singed by his quirk. "S'don't to that t'me, okay?" his soft plea comes out hoarsely, his voice slowly giving out for the nth time, but you knew he'd get it back, like all the other times. You lift a hand, gingerly stroking his marred cheek, staples searing hot to the touch, but you didn't care. "Stay where I know you are, dove."

He leans into your touch, and you give him a kiss.

"I promise." you tell him. You and him, and the life inside you, would figure things out. You sigh softly-happily.

Your wish of a happy, dysfunctional family just might come true.

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha #bnha #dabi x reader #todoroki touya x reader #touya todoroki x reader #inspo'd by song fic #TWO songs this time #well one song #two artists so yeah #Spotify

[lu-vin-it]

The Two of Us | 2

The Two of Us M.List | The Two of Us Canon divergences

Summary: You and Daryl make a visit to the kingdom and a new community. You see Ellie and end up sleeping over.

Pairings: Ellie Williams x Reader, Daryl Dixon x Reader (paternal)

Pronouns used: She/Her

Word Count: 1,213

Warnings: None

A/N: Thank you @stqrfishluvr for proofreading and helping me come up with some stuff !! ily bff!!

Ellie and Joel ended up leaving that night. You felt sad as you watched them walk away, you had the most fun with Ellie that night than you had in a while. She was nice and funny.

“Y/N?” You stirred awake. Daryl was standing over you with his hand on your back. “Get dressed, we’re gonna visit Carol.” You rubbed your eyes.

“Why?”

“Joel wants us to come stop by their community, Jackson. It ain’t far from here but I wanna let Carol and Ezekial know beforehand.” You sit up.

“We’re going to see Joel and Ellie?” He nods. “Okay!” You jump out of bed and walk to your dresser, pulling out a long sleeve top and some jeans before heading to the bathroom.

After getting ready, you and Daryl got onto his bike and drove away. The kingdom wasn’t far at all, and you were excited to see Carol, but you were mostly impatient to see your new friend.

“Hey! What are you two doing here?” Carol asks as she walks towards you.

“A week ago we ran into two people who needed help and it turns out they have their own community not far from here.” Daryl replied. Carol nodded.

“So you wanna go check it out?” Daryl nods. “I’ll get my stuff together. Is Y/N coming with us?” He nods again.

“She wants to see her new friend.” He rolls his eyes and you hit him.

“New friend?”

“One of the people we found was her age, they were talking each other’s ears off non stop.” He grumbles. You glare at him.

“Her name is Ellie.” You mumble.

“You two and your fighting.” Carol says with the shake of her head. “Let me get a bag together and borrow a car.”

When you arrived at Jackson you were anxiously looking around for Ellie. Daryl and Carol were already talking to Joel as he was waiting for them with his brother, Tommy. You zoned out as they discussed the communities and mindlessly followed them through the town.

“Y/N!” You turn around when you hear your name, only to be met with Ellie tackling you. You both start giggling.

“Hi!”

“Do you wanna come see my room?” She asks as she helps you up. You glance at Daryl who nods.

“Yes!” She grabs your hand with a grin and then drags you to a house. Ellie takes you inside and to the garage.

“Look!” It was fairly empty. Just a bed, a desk with a chair and some sketching stuff on the desk. There's also a dresser with her backpack on it. “Joel says we can find some more stuff to decorate it later but for now this is perfect.”

“Dude this is sick!” You drop your backpack and walk over to her bed where you plop yourself down. She walks over and does the same. “How are you liking Jackson so far?”

“It’s different. Nothing like the fedra school I was at.” You raise your eyebrows.

“You were in a fedra school?” She nods.

“Yeah but I ran and Joel found me.”

“Wow. What was it like?” You roll over to face her. She scrunches up her face.

“Not good. The other girls didn’t like me much.” You furrowed your brows.

“What? Why? You’re great!” Ellie nods.

“I know right?” You roll your eyes. “You’re cool too I guess.” She averts her eyes from yours as she says that and you suddenly feel nervous.

“You guess?” She shoves you.

“Oh shut up!” You guys giggle.

A few hours pass and you and Ellie are sitting on the floor in her room playing two truths one lie when Joel walks in.

“Hey girls, it's dinner time, why don’t y’all come and eat with us?” You spot Carol behind him.

“What’d you make?” Ellie asks, standing up. You stand up too.

“Just some sandwiches and chips.” He shrugs.

“Mk.” You and Ellie follow them into the house and over to the dining table. Tommy and Daryl were sitting there with another woman who you hadn’t met yet. You walk over to Daryl and kiss his head before sitting next to him.

“Havin’ a good time?” He asks you. You nod with a smile.

“What about you?” He shrugs.

“All business.”

“Must suck to be an adult.” You poke his arm and he rolls his eyes.

“Shoulda left you in that damn house.” You laugh.

“How rude!” You put your hand on your heart and feign offense.

“Here you are.” Joel sets a plate in front of you and one in front of Daryl. He then passes out the rest of the plates and sits down besides Ellie.

You all fell into a comfortable conversation, and after everyone was finished eating, you and Ellie went back to her bedroom.

“How many people are in your group?” Ellie asks as she tosses a ball up in the air and then catches it while sitting on her bed.

“Um.. well.. we have a lot of people. There are a lot of different communities but from the original group there’s Maggie, Michonne, Carol, Judith, and Daryl obviously.” You bit the inside of your cheek. “What about you?”

“It’s just me and Joel. Tommy and Maria now too I guess.” She shrugs. You walk over to her bed and lay down.

“They seem nice.”

“Yeah, they are.” You end up telling her about some of the adventures you had been on with your family, including how Daryl had found you. You were leaning against her headboard with her sprawled out on the bottom of the bed when Joel and Daryl walked into the garage.

“Carol’s goin’ back to the kingdom for the night. You goin’ with her or stayin’ here with me?” Daryl asked in his usual grumbly tone.

“Where are you gonna sleep?” You furrow your brows. Daryl wasn’t usually this trusting of strangers, you wondered what it was about Joel that made him let his guard down.

“On the couch upstairs. You can sleep here or out there with me.” You glance at Ellie to see her profusely nodding.

“I’ll sleep here!”

“Yes! We’re gonna have a sleepover!” You giggle.

“You girls get to sleep soon, alright?” Joel says, crossing his arms.

“Yeah, whatever, old man. Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

“Isn’t it past yours?” Ellie sticks out her tongue. You get up and give Daryl a hug, he kisses the top of your head.

“Goodnight girl.” He leans down to whisper in your ear. “You got your knife on you?”

“Yes. It’s in my pocket, but I don’t think I’m gonna need it.” You flick his arm. He pulls away and glares at you. “Goodnight! Love you.”

“Love you.” With that, Daryl and Joel leave the room and you turn to Ellie.

“Bro.”

“Bro.” She scrambles to sit up and grabs the edge of the bed.

“This is gonna be so fun.”

“So fun!” You stare at each other in silence for a minute. “What do people do at sleepovers?”

“I dunno.. sleep?” She nods.

“Sounds good to me, I’m exhausted.” Ellie puts her hand on her forehead. “You tired me out.”

“Well sorry!” You throw your hands up in the air and then you both start laughing.

Taglist: @sawaagyapong @afro-hispwriter @avengingparker @graciexmarvel

#the walking dead fic #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead x reader #domesticated daryl dixon #daryl dixon x child!reader #daryl dixon x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x reader #tlou x twd #tlou x reader

[katareyoudrilling]

Construction Corner (AU Joel Miller x Female Reader)

Episode 4: Marcus & Teresa

Fandom: The Last of Us/Pedro Pascal

Pairing: TV Host Joel Miller x divorced Female Reader

Summary: You deal with a difficult homeowner situation that stirs up some feelings.

Word count: 2.2k

Rating: Explicit (18+ only. NO MINORS)

Content Warnings: Alternate Universe, cameos galore, inaccuracies about tv show production, filming, and construction, a bit of angst, oral sex (m and f receiving), unprotected PiV (conversations have happened offscreen, be safe!)

A/N: This episode got a bit angstier than I originally intended, but I’m really happy with how it turned out. I am playing very fast and loose with canon for this cameo.  Reader is divorced and in her late 30s but is otherwise a blank slate.  I hope you enjoy!

Comments and reblogs very much appreciated!

Previous | Next

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Taglist – link in my bio and on my Masterlist

Something is wrong.

Yesterday, you chalked it up to nerves.  It wasn’t unusual for homeowners to freeze up a little in front of the cameras on the first day of shooting, but they usually got over it quickly.

Today though… you don’t think it’s nerves.

You met newly engaged couple Marcus Pike and Teresa Lisbon a few months ago at their casting interview.  Marcus had surprised Teresa by buying a house for their future family.  The two of them stared lovingly into each other’s eyes and laughed as they recounted starting a renovation project that quickly got out of their control.

Their project was just right for the show slot and their love story was sure to be a hit with viewers. It was a no-brainer booking.

Maybe it shouldn’t have been.

Watching them now, Teresa looks like she would rather be anywhere else but here.  She stands woodenly next to Marcus with a pasted-on smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.  Since filming began yesterday, she has only offered one-word answers as she robotically goes through the motions of the show.

Marcus, on the other hand, is overly enthusiastic.  His eyes shine with manic energy, while his smile is too big, too bright.  He has the look of a man trying desperately to hold things together by sheer force of will.

You recognize both of their expressions.

You’ve seen them in the mirror.

Suddenly it’s not the sun making you feel too warm.  You excuse yourself and retreat to the shade and privacy behind one of the crew trailers.  You sink into the cool grass and rest your head back against the trailer, allowing painful memories to crest over you and then recede.

Joel finds you there a few minutes later.

“Everythin’ ok, sweetheart?” he asks gently, lowering himself to the grass next to you.

You lean your head onto this shoulder.

“Yeah,” you sigh.  “Just… memories.”

“Not happy ones, I’m guessin’?”

“Not really, no.”

“I don’t know what’s goin’ on with those two, but it ain’t good.”

You lace your fingers through Joel’s and stroke his knuckles gently. His strong, work-roughened hands make yours look even softer and more delicate.  You love the contrast.  You sit side by side for a few quiet minutes admiring how your hands fit together.

“Just have to get through the rest of today and tomorrow and hope it’s salvageable,” you sigh.

“I reckon it will be.  I’m layin’ a floor.  There are sure to be extra shots of my rear end.”  You bury your face in his shoulder to stifle your laughter.

“You’re a good sport, you know.”  You rest your chin on his shoulder.

“I do know,” he says, giving you a kiss on the forehead.

“I can’t wait until tomorrow night,” you say, looking up at him through your lashes.  His warm, chocolate brown eyes a soothing balm to your aching heart.

“Neither can I,” he rasps.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

You spend Friday morning on the phone confirming material deliveries for next week’s shoot.  When you arrive at set after lunch, Patty, the director, makes a beeline for you.

“We have a problem.”  Patty doesn’t mince words.  “Teresa stormed off, Marcus followed after her, we need to get them back to finish this thing.  Joel is setting up to film his bit on installing quarter round, but I need them soon.”

You take a deep breath in and exhale slowly through your nose.  The cast wrangling parts of your job as producer were usually fun – getting to meet new people, hear their stories, and make their houses beautiful – but today wasn’t going to be one of the fun ones.

“I’ll take care of it,” you assure her as your make your way in the direction she indicated.

You find Marcus first.  He’s pacing on the side of the house, tugging at the back of his neck, tension rolling off him in waves.

“Hey, Marcus,” you start, tentatively, “what’s going on?”

“I don’t understand,” he turns to you looking panicked, his tidy brown hair ruffled and eyes wide, “I’ve given her everything she wanted.  Why is she upset?”  He runs his hand through his hair and drags it down his face.

“Let me talk to her,” you pat him soothingly on the shoulder.  “Why don’t you get something to drink and try to relax for a bit.”

Marcus bobs his head in agreement and makes his way toward the craft services table.  You continue around the back of the house and spot Teresa at the back fence.

You make your way over and lean on the fence beside her.

“It was all so romantic,” she says, looking into the distance at nothing in particular.  “I don’t know what changed or when… am I crazy for not wanting this?”

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly.  There are no easy answers and you are in no place to give them even if there were.

You both stand in silence watching leaves fall from the trees.

You hate what you’re about to say, but it’s your job to say it.  “I’m really sorry I have to ask this of you, but we need to finish filming the show.”  Her shoulders visibly slump.  “There’s only the reveal left, then we will be out of your way, and you can figure things out with Marcus.”

“You’re right,” she sighs.

“I’ll go find him and tell him that you’ll explain later.  You can take a few more minutes.”  She nods and you make your way back towards the house – and Marcus – with a knot in the pit of your stomach.

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

“Is there anything you can’t do, Joel Miller?” you tease as you push your empty plate away from you.  He met you at his door with a glass of chilled white wine before presenting you with a dinner of grilled chicken and angel hair pasta with tomatoes, basil, and parmesan cheese.  It was absolutely delicious and just what you needed after the tense afternoon on set.  “It’s really not fair that you can cook too.”

“I can make a few things, but I’m no chef,” he replies, blushing to the tips of his ears.  “I’m glad you liked it.”  He stands up from the table.  “Come watch the sunset with me.” He beckons you to follow him to the couch.

You sink down beside him and lean your back up against his broad frame with a sigh.  “What a day.  I just feel so sad for both of them.”

“I know.  Better now than later though,” Joel murmurs against your hair.

 “True.” The warmth of his body seeps through your blouse and you snuggle in closer to him.  The two of you sit in relaxed silence watching the sky turn orange and pink through the window.

“I know we had plans tonight, but I don’t want…”

“I am ok.  I promise,” you assure him.  “It was… difficult… watching them and reliving some of those memories, but I’m ok.  I am so much happier now.  And not just because of this,” you squeeze his thigh, “I was happy already.  You’re a bonus.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” He nuzzles at your ear and drags his nose down the side of your neck, sending shivers down your spine.  He places a kiss at the juncture of your shoulder before kissing his way back up to your ear.

You moan and melt into him.  He seems determined to go slow, building your desire bit by bit, and you’re tempted to let him.  It’s definitely working.  But when he takes your earlobe between his teeth you snap – it’s too much.  Slow is overrated.  You spin yourself around and up onto his lap, straddling his thighs.

You swallow his sounds of protest as you take his mouth in a bruising kiss, panting when you finally come up for air.  You lift the hem of your shirt up over your head and toss it aside, revealing your favorite yellow lace bra.

“You’re… sunshine…” Joel breathes reverently, staring up at you with lust blown eyes, hands full of your ass.  You start unbuttoning his shirt.  “I said I wanted to take my time with you,” he argues as you spread the soft fabric wide, revealing his chest and stomach.

His body is strong from a lifetime of hard work.  Every muscle earned and used, not just for looks.  But my oh my does he look good.  The planes of his chest glow in the soft light filtering in through the window.  Beautiful.

“I know you did, but what about what I want to do with you?” you wink as you drag your fingernails down his smooth skin watching goosebumps rise in their wake.  He gasps as you scrape over his flat nipples.

You slide off his lap, onto the floor between his legs, and start unbuttoning his jeans.

“You… you don’t….” You quiet him with a look.  His chest rises and falls rapidly as he watches you free his thick, heavy cock.  You take him in your hand and stroke from base to tip, swirling a drop of precum over the head with your thumb.

You watch Joel watch your movements, jaw dropped and panting, and you smile with how good it feels to make him feel like this.

You follow the path of your hand with your tongue before taking him in your mouth as deep as you can.  Joel’s broken moans and curses spur you on.  Each drag of your mouth along his length stoking the fire of arousal burning in your belly.

You lose yourself in the desperate whimpers that escape his throat.

You feel powerful.

You are painfully turned on.

“Fuck… I… wait…”  Joel pulls you up, crushing your mouth to his in a desperate, messy kiss.  Tongues swirl, teeth bite.  He cups your jaw in his hands.

“Sweetheart… Sunshine… I could take you right here on this couch,” he pants.

“Why don’t you then?” you challenge him. He levels an assessing gaze at you.

“My back hurts,” he says seriously, and you dissolve into giggles.

“I’m sorry,” you say, trying to control yourself.  Joel’s eyes crinkle as he fights to keep a straight face.  “To be honest, my back probably wouldn’t like it either.  What are we going to do instead?”

“I’m taking you upstairs, laying you out on my bed, and having my way with you,” Joel rumbles.

Your laughter dies away as heat floods your core.  “Yes, please.”

Joel strides purposefully up the stairs, pulling you along behind him.  His bedroom is decorated in burnt oranges, dark greens, and reclaimed wood.  It’s distinctly him.

He unwraps you like a present, worshiping each newly exposed bit of skin, until he has you bare and spread out on his bed.  Just where he wants you.

The first swipe of his tongue through your folds has you levitating off the bed.  He soothes you back down with firm hands on your hips until the tension leaves your body and you melt into his ministrations.

It’s never felt quite like this before.

When you come, he stays with you, riding the waves of your pleasure with his tongue, until you are still and boneless.

The scrape of his beard on your skin brings you back to your body.  He hovers over you, filling your vision. Strong arms cage you in, pouty lips press to your sternum, tendons in his neck stretch as he positions himself between your legs.

“It’s been a long time,” you whisper as he notches his weeping cock at your entrance.

“For me too,” his dark eyes meet yours.

You nod and he presses inside slowly, deliciously.  He splits you open inch by inch and you stretch to welcome him.

He buries his head in your neck with a broken curse as he fully sheaths himself inside of you.

You run your fingers through his hair and down his shoulders and back, reveling in the power you feel holding this man in the cradle of your body.  You rock against him, and he begins to move with long, languid strokes.  Each ridge and vein dragging lusciously against your walls.

You meet his thrusts, pulling him deeper into you, chasing friction in the slippery place where your bodies meet.

You fall apart for him in a haze of sensation, and he follows after you with a stuttering moan.  You stay wrapped in each other, breathing each other in, as the moon rises outside the window.

You drift off only to be awakened by calloused fingers ghosting across your skin, a request whispered low in your ear, pleasure like you’ve never experienced soon coursing through your veins as you press your face into his cool sheets.

The sun rises with him curled around your back, cupping your breast in his warm hand, your top leg thrown over his as he buries himself in you.  He presses kisses to your shoulder blade as you whimper your way to yet another release.

Joel wasn’t kidding that he wanted time.

When you wake up to him offering you a mug of coffee as he sits on the side of the bed, the sun already high in the sky, you’re pretty sure you’ll give him all the time he wants.

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

A/N: This episode’s cameo comes to us from The Mentalist.

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[melodygatesauthor]

Fool Me Twice

Steven Grant X f!Reader

Part 10 of 28 in the February Fluff and Fuck 2023 Challenge

Day 10 Prompt - Second Chances

Summary: You are a tour guide, and he's a gift shoppist. Steven Grant stood you up on your first date. Now it's Valentine's Day, and he has come back after being gone for three days. You may find it within yourself to forgive him, but what happens when you discover the reason he stood you up in the first place?

Tags/Warnings: SFW, violence, canon divergence, second chances, mentions of Marc but no Marc appearance, Steven's a little pathetic (ofc), cute, fluffy, this is my first time writing moon knight canon stuff so please be gentle

Word Count: 3.5k

“Does anyone have any questions?” You asked, looking around at the kids in front of you. You wished you hadn’t noticed the one picking his nose and immediately felt your stomach turn.

It was a hit or miss whether or not kids would ask questions. This crowd seemed like they would rather be anywhere else than there at that moment, but when you started directing them to the gift shop, they lost their minds and started running for the door. Everyone loved the gift shop. You sighed when you followed them inside, looking to your left and seeing that Steven, the guy who worked the register, was ringing up a customer.

He hadn’t been to work since asking you out a few days ago. You remembered it clearly.

He was sitting in the employee room eating what looked like a vegan burrito. You were having your lunch at the table across from him. The two of you were chatting about common inconsistencies in the marketing department and how he tried to tell Donna they’d messed up the posters for the event the museum was having later that week.

“I’ve tried telling her that you should at least get to cover tours when other people are sick or something. Like per diem. You know so much.” You’d said, taking a bite of your food. “I mean, you know more than I do about some things.”

“Yeah well, she doesn’t seem to like the thought. Can’t even get my name right, ‘course she can’t get a poster right.” The two of you chuckled.

“You’re funny.” You said, feeling the heat rising to your cheeks.

“Erm, thank you.” He blushed, “I…I’m sure you know about that new restaurant on High street?”

“Yeah, the vegan place?” You took a swig of your water bottle.

“Yeah, that’s the one. I’ve been meanin’ to check it out.” He was shifting uncomfortably. You had a feeling you knew where this was going so you thought you’d help him get there.

“Oh I would love to go there, I just don’t like going places alone.” You looked at him in a way that you hoped urged him to invite you out.

“Yeah, I don’t either.” The awkward silence had you internally groaning.

One of the things you liked about Steven was how shy he could be. Not all the time, you’d seen him when he was intrigued about something, or when he’d stand up for himself to Donna. He wasn’t a pushover. When it came to something like dates though, and asking you out, he seemed to get anxious, like all the confidence fell from his body. You found it adorable.

“Steven…” You touched your fingertips to his on the table.

His lips parted slightly, “what?”

You smiled, “I said, I don’t like going places alone.”

You watched him suck in a breath and a smile played over his lips. He had such a nice smile, it was bright and had a way of making butterflies go crazy in your stomach. He wrapped his hand around your fingers and rubbed them with his thumb softly.

“Would you…” He was speaking slowly, as if doing so would allow him to retract the words if he got too nervous mid sentence, “would you like to come with me to dinner tomorrow night?”

Dinner was supposed to be three nights ago. Three nights ago you stood in front of your mirror adjusting your breasts in the tight black dress you’d picked out. You wore a complementary necklace and touched up your makeup quickly. You looked down at your phone.

Steven: I’m still surprised that you said yes. I’ll be there at 7 :)

You: I practically BEGGED you to ask me haha. See you in a bit.

Steven: :D

You’d never thought about Steven using emojis, but you found it endearing. It was 6:30pm when you left your house, and 6:55pm when you got to the restaurant. Steven wasn’t there yet, but you’d assumed he would be right along. You got a table and ordered a drink while you waited. Steven had been late to the gift shop a few times, but you were genuinely surprised when 7:10pm hit and he didn’t show. You’d thought he would be too excited to miss out on a date with you. You looked at your phone again.

You: Guess traffic must be giving you trouble?

You waited some more, sipping at your drink. By the time you were finished, and the server had come to your table asking if you were ready to order something for the third time, you checked your phone again…nothing, and it was 7:25pm.

You: I don’t want to sound rude, but are you standing me up?

You: It’s just almost been 30 minutes and I thought you were excited…

7:40

You: I never really thought you were the type, Steven. It’s too bad, truly.

You ordered a meal to-go. You hoped that by the time your box of food came out that he would’ve come through the door, but he never did. That night, you went home alone, toed off your shoes, crawled into bed, and cried for a bit before finally drifting off. Steven always seemed like such a nice guy, so when someone like him turned out to be a jerk, you wondered if there was even any point in dating.

Now it was Tuesday, Valentine’s Day, and the man who stood you up was smiling away, friendly as always. You couldn’t understand how he could be so chipper after what he’d done. Didn’t he know that he’d see you at some point and he would have to answer for what he did? Didn’t he know that he’d have to face you again?

There it was, the stupid face that lit up every time he saw you. The face that melted your insides with hot molten lava every time you saw it. He looked so damn happy to see you, like he hadn’t skipped a beat. You gulped, letting out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“Hey…!” He said your name from across the gift shop.

You turned your head away and walked off, and Steven stood there, feeling a pit forming in his gut as his lips curled back downward. What had he done now? When he’d seen you yesterday at lunch, you’d touched his hand and practically asked him out yourself. It didn’t make sense, now you looked at him with so much disdain, he wondered if he should even approach you. Weren’t you still looking forward to that date with him tonight?

He waited until later to talk to you.

“Hey…” He said your name softly in the employee lounge later that day at lunch.

You let out a heavy sigh, “hey.”

You didn’t want to talk to him, but there he was, not letting you get out of it easily.

“You seem upset, was it Greg? That guy is always…” He stopped. He could tell by your expression that it was, in fact, not Greg that had you upset. “What is it?”

“You’re really going to come in here and act like nothing happened?” You scoffed, shaking your head. “You know I expect this from some of the dead beat losers out there but I really thought you were better than them, Steven.” You got up from the table.

“Wha-what do you mean?” His face was distraught. “I haven’t even…we haven’t even been out yet. Aren’t we still on for the vegan place?”

Your jaw dropped, “yeah…we were on for the vegan place…three nights ago.”

Steven’s mind went blank and the panic set it. It happened again. He had lost track of time, and this time he’d missed out on a date with you. Marc must’ve taken over. He ran his hands through his hair. He and Marc had talked about this, he couldn’t just do that without warning, unless something big had happened, and he wasn’t telling Steven about it.

His palms started sweating while he was trying to think about what to say to get you to forgive him, but instead he felt his eyes welling. He couldn’t very well tell you so early on that he was an alter for a man with dissociative identity disorder who also happened to be the Moon Knight for the Egyptian God Khonshu. He couldn’t tell you that Marc Spector had taken over the body that they shared and in doing so Steven had lost track of days while Marc, no doubt, rescued someone, or several someones. Hell, Marc might’ve even saved the world. What was most troubling, was that he hadn’t said a word to Steven.

You saw this, his defeated expression, and realized that something was very wrong.

“You…you never showed up. I sat there until eight.” You explained with a softer tone now.

He wasn’t even looking at you. His hand was over his mouth and he was looking down at the ground.

“You’re sure it’s not still Saturday?” He asked.

“Yep, sat there for an hour, got a drink and had the black bean burrito to go.” You pressed your lips together.

Steven had to think about how he was going to make this up to you, right now. You were standing there with your arms crossed over your chest, and though your expression was softening, it was clear that you were still irritated. If Marc had messed this up for him, he was going to be upset.

“Can I take you out tonight? I know it’s a longshot, but…I really didn’t stand you up on purpose. I have a…sleepwalking problem.” He was desperate, brows turned up and knitted together pathetically.

He reminded you of a dog begging for treats, not a man asking for a second chance. You’d never heard of a sleepwalking problem that made someone lose days of their life, but you sensed he was being genuine. You groaned and rolled your eyes. You had a soft spot for him, and you figured that if he really did try to stand you up, he wouldn’t be asking for a second shot.

“I don’t know what it is about you, but…yeah, yeah sure.” You dropped your arms and grabbed your lanyard from the table before replacing it on your neck.

You watched Steven’s entire body sigh with relief, “oh thank goodness, I won’t make you regret it.”

You started to walk out of the employee lounge, “yeah, we’ll see.” You said.

Part of your agreeing to let him make it up to you was purely out of your own feelings toward the gift shop clerk. You’d always liked going to the gift shop at the end of the tours, mostly because you got to see the cute and quirky guy ringing up customers and passing glances at you from across the stuffed Taweret plushies. He always had this look on his face when he saw you walk in, as if he were standing dormant until you came into view. As soon as you were in his vicinity, he came to life, color went back to his cheeks, and his smile formed.

The truth was that he had fallen for you the second he first laid eyes on you. You were new there, just starting your first day as a tour guide, and he happened to be walking in while you were explaining the symbols on a stone tablet. He saw you as he was walking by on his way to the lockers, and he thought you were the most beautiful person he’d ever laid eyes on. Your confidence, your brilliant smile, everything about you took his breath away.

“Hi.” You said, noticing the awkward man standing there, staring at you.

He jumped, “oh, hi, sorry I was just erm…heading to the lockers.”

He scurried off, and you shook your head before returning to the tour. You thought he was a weirdo at first, but over time he went out of his way to converse with you more and more. It started with little compliments in the lounge. He’d say things like…

“You really know a lot. Sometimes I think the tour guides don’t really know anything, they just learn a script but you…you’re brilliant.”

And,

“Wow, today you really had those kids hangin’ on to your every word. You’re a brilliant storyteller.” He said.

Then he started doing other things like, if you mentioned liking the way his lunch looked, he would bring in a second helping the next time so you could try it. There was even one day where you didn’t show up for work because you had a cold and when you came in the next day you found a “get well soon” card in your locker along with a basket that had tea and other sick supplies to help you feel better. These things were the reason that you said yes to a second chance. These things are the reason that you were standing in front of your mirror again after work, in that little black dress you’d worn just a few nights ago.

This time, before you left, you sent him a text.

You: Are we still on?

His lack of response was worrying, but you went anyway. Once again, you arrived at 6:55pm, and once again, Steven wasn’t around. He has five more minutes, you reminded yourself, five more minutes.

You walked inside and got yourself a table and a drink. Your palms were sweating and you started to feel like an idiot when 7:05 rolled around. You let out a heavy sigh. You weren’t going to do this again. When the server came back you ordered another meal to go. Steven had one shot to get this right, and he blew it.

If only you could see him though, frantically running down the street as though his life depended on it, and to him it did. Losing you would cripple him, losing you would be one of the worst failures of his life, so he had to get there. He looked at his watch, 7:07pm. He cursed under his breath as he closed in on the restaurant. Surely you were fuming. Surely you were already gone, but you weren’t. You were sitting there, he could see you through the window in a beautiful dress that fit your body perfectly. He could also see your slumped figure, clearly upset by his absence. He wasted no more time rushing through the door to see you.

Steven’s hair was stuck to his forehead. He looked like he’d run the entire way there. He sat down and held a finger up to you, trying desperately to catch his breath. The server came back to the table.

“Can we maybe get a water please and some napkins?” You smiled. “Oh, and please put in my order for here, to go with his order when he gets himself sorted.”

“I’ll just have whatever you’re having.” He managed to choke out.

The server nodded in understanding and disappeared behind a set of double doors. You crossed your arms over your chest and leaned back, waiting for him to catch his breath. It took him a minute, and when the server came back with napkins and water, Steven gulped down the entire glass and set it down on the table a little too harshly. He gasped and pointed to the glass.

“More…please.”

The server complied and then stepped away quickly. The restaurant was a little busy for Valentine’s Day, so you were sure he had other things to do instead of sitting there filling Steven’s glass endlessly. You laced your fingers together and rested your arms on the table. Finally, Steven was able to talk to you.

“I am so sorry, I was trying to leave and I had…I had an episode and…and…” He shook his head, eyes landing on the glass of the window.

You saw him make a face at the window, the same face a mother would make when trying to tell her child to shush without making a scene.

“Steven.” You said coldly. His head snapped to face you. “What is going on? I know I’ve only known you for a couple of months but…that’s long enough to know that you haven’t been acting yourself lately.”

“I’m not even so sure I know, love.” He said, looking pathetically at the flower in his hand. He’d squeezed the life out of it and it held no petals. “Got this for you, but I guess that’s a mess now too, innit?”

You were, truth be told, just glad he’d actually shown up. You thought for sure you were going to be spending Valentine’s Day alone when the clock rolled by and he hadn’t arrived, but then he ran through the door. Whatever his reason for being late, you were willing to forgive it, even if you shouldn’t. If he was any other guy, you would’ve told him to hit the road, but it was Steven, and he was different.

When you reached out your hand and touched Steven’s fingers, he could’ve fallen into tears. Not only did a woman like you say yes to a date with him, but you’d agreed to a second date after he bailed on the first one, and you were still there when he was late to said second date. He didn’t deserve you, he didn’t deserve you at all, but he was grateful for you to the moon and back.

“The least you can do is tell me why you were late, yeah?” You asked, sipping your drink.

“Darling, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” He said.

“Try me.” You leaned back in your seat.

The truth was that Steven was secretly grateful for the well timed attack that took place right by the restaurant the two of you were sat in. He was racking his brain trying to figure out ways to tell you that he was the Moon Knight. How could he tell you that there were two others in his head, and that was why he’d been missing for three days? How could he tell you that there was a colossal and skeletal bird that gave him his power? The only way would be to show you.

A woman outside screamed and you jumped, looking through the window. It was dark, but you could see her running by the light of the streetlamps. You couldn’t see what she was running from though, and wondered if she might be insane.

“Stay here.” Steven said, jumping out of his seat.

“Steven, what are you-”

“Stay inside.” He ordered.

Steven being demanding was out of character for him. You’d never heard him talk quite like that to anyone, and especially not you. He held out his arms and you watched in awe as his entire outfit changed before your very eyes. The new fit was sharp, stark white, and actually looked quite remarkable on his body. His beautiful face was hidden with a mask now, and his eyes were glowing like the stars.

“Steven?” You asked, looking at him in complete shock.

“That’s me, love. I’ve gotta go save the town now, but you just stay in here, yeah?”

He left without waiting for your response, and you were just standing there, completely dumbfounded. He had told you to stay put, but of course after he left you had to follow, at least to the curb. You saw him, fighting what looked like an extraordinarily strong man. This was it. This explained everything. Why he always looked like he hadn’t slept in days, why he went missing sometimes, and why he stood you up on Friday night. He was a superhero, like the Avengers. You’d been fortunate to never see any of these types of things in person, yet here you were, witnessing it first hand.

“That’s the girl!” You heard someone yell behind you.

You turned, seeing two men walking toward you quickly. You thought for sure they couldn’t be coming after you, but they were. Damn the heels you’d decided to wear. If not for the clumsy shoes that made you look a little taller and dressier, you might’ve been able to fight, or get away. Instead you stumbled, falling to your hands and knees with a gasp.

One of them grabbed one arm, and the other grabbed your shoulder.

“No! Get off of me!” You yelled, trying to pull away unsuccessfully. “S-Steven!” You screamed.

The last thing you saw was Steven turning to face you, and then it all went dark.

To be continued… (not sure when tho, but it will be continued after Feb is over)

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