#a lot of barking went on last week | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sugarlywhispers · 5 months

Text

ex!b.katsuki x reader ; m.izuku x reader — bakugou cheats on his gf, with midoriya's girlfriend.

☆– warnings; ANGST. mention and description of panic attacks, swear words, cheating (bakugou to reader; uraraka to midoriya), description of a fight. But it ends in fluff~ c;

☆–a.n; honestly, i don't know if i'm going to add another chapter... i still have a bit more of ideas for this, but i don't know ._.

in the meantime, i hope you liked this new part! <3

also, i hope ya'll have a wonderful beggining of 2024!!! may this new year bring lots of good thing for everyone, lots of love and adventures, new amazing things and wonderful people to your lives!

love ya'll so much, wish you all ALL the good things life can bring; no more tears, except happy ones. <3

A few weeks go by, and Midoriya and you keep in touch, texting almost everyday. Talking about random stuff, important stuff, whatever the mood is. But it's mostly cute, random stuff, getting to know each other kind of feeling. It's funny how you both have been around each other for so long and did not actually know one another.

The texting was cute. Like a picture he sends one afternoon, when his shift is calm and almost finished, when the sun is setting, taken from up high in a building. A beautiful sunset picture that you use as a lock screen wallpaper on your phone. Or that one selfie he sent when he shared patrols with Hero Shoto; you remember thinking how cute he looked posing next to the hot and cold Hero, with two fingers of one of his hands pulled up on a peace sign. Or a picture of a little puppy Hero Deku found on a rainy morning shift. He took it to the closest vet so they could help the little animal, and you find that so fucking heroic it makes your heart jump from the cuteness.

"I wonder… who has you smiling like that? Oh , I know… Mister Greeny," Mineta mocks, his eyebrows shaking up and down suggestively.

"Shut up," you bark and hit him on the upper arm strongly. He simply laughs.

Three months pass faster than you actually realize. You're better, you feel better. You haven't had a single panic attack since Midoriya Izuku entered your life. Which is good… it means good.

He is good.

Since that first Friday you grabbed coffee together, you both decided to make it your day. Each and every Friday morning, Izuku and you would go to grab coffee at that same shop you went to the first time; then he would walk you home as the gentleman he is.

It's Friday and you're waiting for him, it's a bit late already, but you know he is coming. He had a night patrol but he insisted to not break the new tradition - his words. You found it cute, so you didn't protest.

But now you're worried, because it's almost 30 minutes since you have been waiting and he hasn't come yet. Then it becomes 40, 45, 50 minutes. You feel your neck itchy, but you try to ignore it, looking at your phone. Waiting for a notification, waiting for Mid‐ Izuku to contact you. But nothing.

It's already been 1.10 hours long and no sign of him. You sigh and decide to go home, it's been more than an hour already. Probably he had something coming up at the last minute, or he simply forgot. He probably had a rough night and he didn't have time to meet you. You're not as important as his job, obviously.

You grab your things and exit the place, the kind girl behind the counter smiles sadly at you and waves her hand as goodbye. You smile, or at least try, in her direction and leave the coffee shop.

You feel itchy all over. This… This is… weird . Why are you feeling like this? You have no right to feel… disappointed, hurt . He's a Hero. He's freaking Number One, pro hero Deku. His job will always come first. But you can't help it. It's like…

You're not my priority, Y/N. Understand that you'll never be. I have to concentrate in my job if want to fucking be Number one.

You haven't heard his voice in your head for a long time now. And hearing it again is… painful. Hurting. Choking .

Every sound around you feels a hundred times louder as you walk, every light blinds you and you don't realize you're bumping into almost everyone around. The pressure on your neck is getting stronger and you can't breathe. You can't think. Your vision is turning black, like that night at the ramen shop with Mineta. A panic attack . You're having one in the middle of the street. How embarrassing . How pathetic .

You want the blackness to finally evolve you, and don't let go.

And then you see it, you feel it. Green eyes and strong hands grabbing your shoulders. You know those green eyes, you have seen them before. He's moving his mouth but you can't hear his voice. He looks worried; why is he worried? You feel rough hands that grab your face as softly as he can, and they are cold. You aren't used to the cold, but you like it. It's refreshing.

"...hear me? Y/N, please breathe, okay? Breathe with me," his voice is comforting, so you follow him, you breathe with him. "That's it… You're okay. We are okay."

The sight around you starts to clear, the blackness dissipates and you see clearly. His face is the first thing your eyes find. You know him. "Izuku?"

" Yes! Yes, it's me… Hi, love," he smiles relieved. You look around realizing you're in the middle of a circle, with him. People are watching, some worried, some annoyed. Embarrassing .

You realize then that Izuku's hands are around your face, holding you with no intention of letting go. "Izuku…"

He blinks, realizing then probably your surroundings and nods. "Yes, come one, let's go…"

Izuku helps you stand, his arm surrounding your waist pulling your weight on him so he helps you walk. Everyone starts clapping, clearly recognizing hero Deku even in his civilian clothes.

He walks you to your apartment in silence. Until you walk into the building, "There's no elevator?"

"No, it's been broken since before I got here," you know your voice sounds throaty, and the expression on his face says it worries him.

He sighs looking at the long stairs ahead. He knows you live on the fourth floor. "Okay, then," he says before picking you up, bridal style.

"Izuku! I can walk!"

"No, you can't. You have been putting your weight on me the whole way here."

"Still, I…"

"Shut up. Let me help," his tone it's so authoritative you have no other option than to do that. Shut up and let him help, because you know you wouldn't be able to climb those stairs up on your own even if you tried.

On the way up, you can't avoid watching him. He looks… angry . You have never seen him like that, or better said, you have never experienced his anger, you have seen him angry on the TV, fighting villains.

"I'm sorry," you say, and he stops midway, his eyes traveling to your face.

"You're apologizing for having a panic attack?" He's frowning, his tone incredulous, but serious. It makes tingles run your body.

"I'm… Yes, it's embarrassing ," you feel your voice crack a bit, and you hate that.

"Y/N, it's not embarrassing. It's a trauma response. And it's okay to go through it. But you need to heal…"

You look away from his face, tears already burning your eyes. You can't help but hear his voice again.

Having panic attacks in public is embarrassing, Y/N. You have to control them. Don't be fucking weak.

" He said… he said they were embarrassing."

You know you shouldn't be saying this to Izuku, but you said it even before you could actually think it.

" Who said-…" Izuku stops mid sentence. Takes a deep, deep breath, and continues climbing the stairs in silence. You don't dare look up. He's so tense and angry, you don't really have the courage to witness that right now.

When you arrive at the fourth floor you signal him which one is your apartment. And even when you are in front of the door, he doesn't put you on the ground. He stands there, waiting patiently, as you search for the key card on your bag and when the door is open he enters with you in his arms. He of course takes his shoes off at the entrance and walks inside.

He doesn't say anything as he sits you over the small couch and sits next to you, his arm touching yours and taking almost all the space around you. His smell is around and you like it.

His face is even closer to yours when he asks, worried, "When were you going to tell me you have panic attacks?"

"I… I don't want to bother anyone with them." You tell the truth. You can't lie to him.

"That's what he told you? That they are a bother?" You simply shrug, not really wanting to answer. "Y/N, I'm not angry or feel like this is a bother. I'm worried, you need help."

"I am going to therapy. I've been going since I'm five, Izuku. I had a handle on them, they weren't recurrent until…"

"Until he left you," he finishes for you, slightly shaking his head and you nod.

Izuku sighs, standing up and you watch him. Is he going away? Is he embarrassed and going away, deciding not to involve or do anything with your broken self?

"Do you mind if I make us both tea?"

You shake your head rapidly in answer. He smiles and walks towards the kitchen. You follow his every move, being a small apartment it's easy to do it.

Izuku is… staying . For tea. He's not leaving. He's not leaving you alone after a panic attack. Like Mineta. But he's your best friend, Mineta has always been there; like you have been there for him even after the war he had to be part of at such a young age and he tried to push you away. Izuku doesn't have that obligation. Izuku… is your friend? Well, that's how you like to think of him since you got to know him this past months. But the category of best friend was not there for him yet. You were just getting to know each other. So, why is he here? Why does he stay?

"It's ready," he suddenly says, sitting back next to you with the two mugs of tea. He gives you one and you accept it a bit startled.

The sudden smell of lemon with honey tea that invades your nose as you bring it closer to drink immediately relaxes you. You smile after taking a sip.

You look back at him and he's watching intently at you, like he's waiting for your reaction.

"You remembered," you say and you really want to cry now.

He smiles, a hand flying to the back of his head to scratch it nervously, "You said it was your favorite."

You did. On a text message, when the topic was favorite drinks . But the fact that he remembered that you said it, it is… overwhelming.

Silence again. On your part it's more relaxed, but you can feel him a bit anxious. You decide to give him space, time to say whatever it is that it's inside his mind.

Until he does.

"You're not the only one… struggling still… with all that happened." He says as he sets his mug on the little coffee table in front of you. It's very small, mostly for decoration. Only space for the two mugs you're using at the moment. Izuku then lays his elbows over his knees, fingers fidgeting in the middle clearly showing his nervousness. "I have nightmares. Very bad ones, since the war. Uraraka used to help a lot, she was always there for me when I needed her."

This is the first time he talks about her this willingly, so you just keep silent and give him the space he needs to say whatever he wants.

"I was finally getting better… and then… she wasn't there anymore…"

"The nightmares came back?" He simply nods. You can't help yourself but to direct your hand towards his shoulder in a form of comfort, which he accepts with a small smile.

"I guess… we are two broken people, trying to pick up the pieces left. Aren't we?"

His eyes shine with tears he refuses to set free, probably also what your own looked like. He smiles sadly at you, before patting your hand that still holds his shoulder.

You both stay in silence for a little while before Izuku breaks the silence again.

"I'm sorry about today. I had…" He sighs. "I had a discussion with a partner."

Partner? You know Izuku doesn't have many partners. One is Hero Shoto, who also is his best friend. You doubt he had a discussion with him, you couldn't actually see Shoto in a heated discussion at all. And the other one is… Oh .

"What did he do now?" You don't even have to mention his name. You and Izuku know who you're talking about.

The green-haired man rolls his eyes. "We have been civil. For the sake of everybody around us. And if I'm being honest, we work well together. In fights, we understand each other perfectly. So we decided to just be professional and not bring up anything that happened."

You know this. Izuku had already told you this once, when he called you on his lunch break to talk to you about a cute little butterfly that he would send you the picture of when he was less busy and you heard Bakugou's voice on the back calling for Izuku. They had been on a mission together.

"Until…" Izuku continues, "Until this morning, when he decided to bring up our Friday morning's coffee."

" What?! " You frown. How did he know? Nobody knew, besides Mineta and probably Shoto on Izuku's side. Nobody else knew… unless…

"Paparazzis discovered us. I don't know how. I'm always careful when meeting you. I take a lot of turns and I disguise myself the best I can so they don't recognize me. But they found out." He sighs, a hand sliding his green and black curls back. "They released an article yesterday. About us."

Izuku takes out his phone, searching for something before showing it to you.

NEWLY BACHELOR, NUMBER ONE PRO HERO DEKU, FOUNDS NEW SWEETHEART?

Yes, my readers, this is apparently what it looks like. A young, pretty lady like this caught the attention of the Symbol of Hope quite fast, if you ask for my humble opinion.

We don't have much information about her, sadly. Only that this lady has our favorite Pro Hero on her clutches... Look at the way he looks at her in the following pictures!

Isn't it cute? Let me be honest, as a fan of Deku myself, I can't avoid feeling a bit heartbroken, but I also think that this man deserves all the happiness anyone can give him. Don't you agree? And after that sudden break up with Pro Hero Uravity that caught everyone by surprise, makes me think… Does this lady have anything to do with it? Did she catch Pro Hero Deku's heart from before, causing the break up? Mmm, so many questions, readers, that we don't have the answers yet! But no mind, we will try our best to find them! Be patient, and in the meantime, show a bit of support for our favorite Number One Hero.

You feel like vomiting. Your picture, clear as day, has never been on the front page of a magazine. Bakugou has always protected his privacy so meticulously, and that included you. The media and his fans knew he had a relationship, but he never let anyone get a glimpse of it.

And here you are now, on the front page of Go-zzip Hero magazine, the picture showing you sitting in front of Izuku in that coffee shop, talking so close to his face it practically looks like you're kissing. Oh, shit . You do that? You actually speak that close to him??

You swallow thickly, looking back up at Izuku.

"I am so sorry, Izuku, I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't know. None of us did. But I'm sorry I wasn't more careful…"

"Don't be silly. This is not your fault."

"Yours either."

You both smile shyly at each other. This is… chaotic. Being involved with him is… OH, SHIT.

"What? What is it?" He asks as he sees your eyes open wide in fear.

"Your fans are gonna kill me..."

"No, they aren't…"

"Yes, they are! Oh my God!" You stand, after putting your mug over the table next to his, a bit wobbly on the legs which makes him react fast to hold you if you fall, but you don't. You start walking one way to the other of your small living room. "I'm so food for the fishes… they are going to kill me!"

Izuku chuckles. "No, they aren't, Y/N…"

"Don't laugh! Yes, they are! Especially after what that journalist said! They even hinted that probably I was the reason you broke up with Uraraka!"

"Which is not true. I'll call my manager and PR team and ask for an interview with the magazine and clarify this. You don't have anything to worry about. Neither does Mineta. I'll clarify that we are just friends…"

That makes you freeze in place, frowning. "Mineta? What does he have to do with this?"

Izuku frowns too, looking confused at you. "Aren't you… Isn't he… Aren't you dating ?"

"WHAT?!" By Izuku's flinching, you realize you raised your tone a bit louder than you intended. "Sorry…Mineta is my best friend, Izuku. He's like a brother to me."

Izuku looks so confused, "But… But you always speak about him. He cooks for you, he is… he is here almost everyday for you, and he did all that stuff to piss off Bakugou for you, like a…"

"Like a brother would." You smile. "I do think that somehow our souls are connected, because I know I could leave apart from anyone, except him . He's that annoying sticky thing you get used to living with and don't want to unstick, because if you do something will miss. Because he's my brother. I wouldn't be able to live without his annoying ass." Izuku laughs with you. You walk back to sitting next to him as silence comes back. Then, you keep talking, "Mineta has been there when I had no one. Even when we were five years old and my parents died in a car accident, provoked by a hero-villain fight." Deku tenses, but keeps his attention on you. "We used to play heroes when we were kids and fantasize about how we were going to be Number One. Both of us, together. And then the accident happened. I was left alone. I didn't have much family around, only my old great-grandma that was barely suitable to raise a child. So I was given to the state. I went to an orphanage."

You don't know why you're baring your soul to Izuku like this. This was a painful, very intimate part of your history nobody knew but Mineta. Not even Bakugou knew. He never insisted for you to tell him. He simply accepted that you were Mineta's best friend, end of sentence. He never questioned anything. Now you wonder if that was a good or a bad thing.

"That's when your panic attacks began?" He asks a bit timidly. You nod.

"It happened that same day, when I was given the news about their deaths. A kind lady had been there with me, explaining what it all meant. She was kind, but she didn't have much experience. Imagine walking into a room as a kid where your parents are lying dead in two stretchers and being told these are your parents and you're not gonna see them anymore ." Izuku flinches again, a chill clearly running down his back. "A few hours later, I had my first panic attack. I lost consciousness for almost an hour. It was the longest one I ever had and doctors were worried not enough oxygen had gone to my brain, considering that even when I woke up I wasn't talking to anyone."

"Until Mineta and Auntie Asiki came to see me at the hospital. The second Mineta lay down next to me in the hospital bed, I started crying, and he held me. We were kids, not knowing anything about life, and he still understood that I needed him. Auntie Asiki offered to bring me home with her and Mineta, but the forms to the orphanage had already been filled and accepted. It would take a lot of money, lawyers and procedures to let her, a single mother, take my custody. And while her heart and intentions were hugely appreciated for even thinking about it, it was impossible."

"I didn't know Mineta's mom was a single mother." Izuku frowns, probably guilting himself about it, because of everything they, as class A, had been through their years at UA.

"He doesn't like speaking about it. He really has to trust you to tell you about it."

Izuku nods, instantly respecting that decision. He then scratches his neck again.

"So, you and him are not…"

You chuckle. "Not even if he was the last man on Earth." Izuku laughs too.

" Ouch , that wounds me so deep, bun," Mineta's voice is heard from the entrance as he walks inside your apartment.

Shit , you haven't heard him at all. The worry on your face is visible, because you have been talking about him, about his private life, and you hadn't consulted him before. You feel so bad, so worried he'll get mad at you.

Mineta sees you and simply shrugs, "It's okay, bun, I trust Midoriya." He then winks at you and you feel the worry disappear completely.

"Thank you, Mineta. I promise I won't speak about it to anyone."

"It's okay," Mineta answers Izuku, pulling his thumb up in his direction. You smile watching their interaction. "I'm not here though to have this conversation." Your best friend gets closer to where you are, a worried expression on his face. "I was told you had another one, in the middle of the street.." You sigh, looking down at your hands that lay in your lap. "Was it because of him again?"

You nod and Mineta is the one who sighs this time.

"About Bakugou?" Izuku asks then, frowning.

You nod again. "My therapist is helping, but yes, they appear after I remember something, random things he once had said to me."

"Why it doesn't fucking surprise me…" Izuku barks as he stands from the couch and walks, just like you had moments ago. Mineta opens his eyes wide, watching amused at Izuku's reaction.

"He's such a fucking jerk… But we already knew that, didn't we?"

Izuku immediately agrees with Mineta.

"I should have punched him harder," Izuku's comment makes you choke on the tea you were about to swallow.

"You what?!" Both you and Mineta speak at the same time. You look worried about the whole situation, the discussion clearly hadn't been a simple one if there had been fists involved. Mineta looks like a kid given the awaited present on his birthday.

"What really happened, Izuku?" You ask, worry clear on your tone.

"He saw the article, clearly. I came back from night patrol and was changing in the locker rooms, the whole night shift was there preparing to go home at the same time the morning shift was getting ready to start their patrols. And he started making comments about you and me, about how I apparently like his leftovers, about how you are a gold digger and now went for me."

"He did not fucking say that!" Mineta stands up, ready to beat some ass, Bakugou's, specifically.

"He did! I couldn't not do anything. I tried to be civil and only told him to stop talking about us, that he didn't know anything. And I told him to stop playing the victim, because he was none. The only victims in this story are you and me," Izuku looks at you like he's assuring you, "They don't have the right to even comment on this."

"Hell yeah, Midoriya!" Mineta cheers, raising his hand for Izuku to high five him, and the green-haired does, animated. You shake your head trying to hold your smile back. "What did corn-head say then?"

Izuku laughs at Mineta's nickname for Bakugou, bumping his fist again with the man in agreement.

You roll your eyes. Jesus , men are such idiots with nicknames.

"He then said that… I don't know if I should repeat it…" Izuku and Mineta both look at you, Mineta already intuitively knows.

"He talked… he talked about our sex life, didn't he?" You ask after a minute of silence.

Izuku nods.

"Tell me you did punch him hard though…" Mineta is fuming, you can see the smoke coming out his ears, metaphorically.

"Of course I did. Twice, before someone pushed me away."

"Well done, man." Mineta high fives Izuku again.

"You shouldn't… you didn't have to…"

"I won't let him or anybody speak about you that way, Y/N. Now that I know all you've been through, I won't even give them a chance to."

You move before you think, again. One second you're seated on the couch, and the next you're hugging Izuku. Arms around his neck strongly, as your face hides in your arm and his shoulder. It takes him a second, but he reacts by hugging back, strong arms surrounding your waist as delicately as he can, but also firm and securely.

You heard Mineta walk out of the living room towards the kitchen to entertain himself with anything.

And you feel… safe . You feel so safe in Izuku's arms, it's so comforting and nice.

You feel him take a deep breath over your head, as if your smell was comforting to him. You like that idea. That at least in something so insignificant like your smell, he finds comfort and peace. Relax and ease.

"Thank you, Izuku," you whisper only for him to listen.

He shakes his head, "You have nothing to thank me for."

"I do, though. Not only for those punches," you say backing away just a bit so you can see his face. He smiles proudly at the mention of the punches. "But because you helped me with my panic attacks… Twice."

"Twice?" He asks confusedly, but you nod.

"The first Friday we went to have a coffee, remember?" He nods, "I was waiting, and because it was my first time out of my apartment without Mineta I was feeling overwhelmed and… and then you appeared at the door. And all I felt was relief… I felt safe with you there, so it stopped even before it began."

You are looking at his eyes, and you can see the emotion in them as you speak. He then rests his forehead on yours and takes a deep breath, clearly pushing his emotion back in so he can speak.

"I'll be there for you… I want to be there for you, if you want me…"

"I want you," you immediately answer, "I want you to be here."

"Then I will."

"I also want to be there for you," you scratch the back of his head softly, as he bites his bottom lip, taking a deep breath. He looks like he's trying to control himself from doing something then and there, and that makes you smile.

"I want you . I want you to be there too." He repeats your exact same words, making you feel tingles all over your body as you feel his fingertips caress lightly, timidly, the bit of skin showing at your waist.

"Then I will."

You feel him moving, his nose caressing yours in a cute manner. Slowly getting closer, lips barely touching and…

"Sorry to be a cockblock, but your phone is ringing, Midoriya."

The bubble is popped , so you both back away, clearing your throats and fixing your clothes out of nervousness.

"Oh, yeah, ummm…" Izuku walks back towards the kitchen to search for his phone. "It's Shoto. He's probably heard already about the fight this morning. I should pick this." You nod, signaling to your room for his privacy and he thanks you as he walks there.

Your eyes follow him until the door is closed, and then they go towards the kitchen, where Mineta is standing, hip against the counter and a bowl of snacks in his hands he found somewhere, eating them slowly as he looks at you accusatory. A knowing smirk in his face.

"Shut up."

"I didn't say anything… yet."

You roll your eyes. "Spit it out." You walk towards him, picking some of the snacks on the bowl and eating.

"I have nothing to say, Y/N."

That's impossible, he always has something to say.

"Or should I call you Ms. Midoriya from now on?"

Ah, there it is.

You punch him in the arm and he laughs out loud.

PART I - PART II - PART III

452 notes · View notes

norman-fucking-reedus · 16 days

Text

HE ATE MY HEART (I LOVE THAT GIRL)

gif by @corvidcrossbow

IM SO FUCKING EXCITED TO FINALLY HAVE SOMETHING TO POST ON HERE AND ALSO TO POST SOMETHING TO THIS SONG

Vamp!Daryl has rotted not only my brain but the community. I am not sorry at all for the plague I'm spreading and I hope that it only gets worse.

So I've been doing some research on it, and I really like the idea of mixing the Blade universe w TWD, I did some more research on the different types of vampires (its kind of a lot so if you want you can go read abt them here!) To basically summarize, there's people, daywalkers (half vamp-people), walkers, full vampires, and then Revenants (half-walker half vampire, basically just another way to die)

This also makes it easier for whenever Scud becomes my next vampy victim

AUUUGH I NEED MY HOT SEXY NEEDY VAMPIRE MAN WHO JUST WANTS TO DRINK ALL MY BLOOD SOMEONE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE FUCKING PLEASE

also I am working on reqs yes I am, I have one scud fic that is dirty and nasty and should be getting posted soon. also I may not be on tumblr as much as I used to be because GUYS I am now employed yes that's right I got off my computer, went outside, interacted with people, and got a job #gangshit

It had been over a week since Daryl had eaten, and over two since he had left to go out on the community's monthly supply run.

As he stumbled through the opening gates, he felt like he had been through a war. His body was wracked with exhaustion, weakness, and hunger. The air was thick with the strong scent of blood, and he couldn't keep himself from groaning painfully when he was bombarded by Carol and Rick asking where he had been, what had taken so long, and if he was alright.

“No! M’not alright dammit” He barked at them in frustration after being asked for the third time if he was alright, his voice laced with irritation and discomfort. Carol couldn't help but notice his pale and clammy appearance.

Her forehead creased into a frown as she tightly pursed her lips, giving Daryl a scolding look that made him uneasy. With a tone of concern, she asked, "I'm worried. When was the last you fed?"

The man's face twisted in discomfort as Rick and Carol stood in his space. He scoffed and muttered, "Not recently, m'fuckin' starvin'" The longer he stayed, the more his head spun and his vision blurred, causing the corners of his eyes to fade into a deep red color. His stomach churned uncomfortably, and he could feel his teeth starting to ache.

Rick observed Daryl's malnourished skin, staring at how he was almost transparent. His eyes were screwed shut as the sun harshly burned his sensitive orbs, and he was gripping the strap of his crossbow so hard that his fingers were starting to turn red.

"You should go see Y/n," Rick said, eyes fixed on his friend. "She should be back home and she's been asking about you. I think she misses you." Daryl's body tensed at the sound of your name, and a sudden chill ran down his spine, causing goosebumps to rise on his arms. He tried to hide his reaction, but Rick's sharp eyes didn't miss a thing.

Daryl's head drooped weakly as he could only manage a feeble nod. Rick and Carol had stepped off to the side for him, offering their silent support. Carol placed her hand gently on his shoulder, her grey hair falling across her face as she did so. Rick, with his stern expression, gave Daryl a look that he knew meant there was no room for argument.

His senses were already heightened to an extreme level, almost at an overload as the sun was abnormally bright, blazing down on him with a blinding intensity, making it difficult for him to even keep his eyes open. He could feel the heat searing his skin, causing beads of sweat to form on his forehead and trickle down his face. He noticed the way that his vest rubbed uncomfortably against him, the fabric clinging to his skin and making him feel sticky and irritable. His already aching teeth began to grind down against each other, and he could feel his razor-sharp fangs digging into the tender skin of his bottom lip, further fueling his pure discomfort.

Each step he took in the direction of your house was tiring and heavy, his dirty, muddy boots slapping against the ground as he dragged himself through the streets, promptly ignoring any strangle or judgy looks that were thrown his way. He didn't have the time, let alone the strength to even bother paying them any mind. His stomach churned as his overwhelmed nose couldn't help but pick up the sickeningly sweet smell of blood.

It forced him to quicken his pace, trying to get just as far away from the public eye as he possible could. He didn't want to be looked at, didn't want to be stared at. He just wanted to get inside as soon as fucking possible and just tear off all his goddamn clothes. A ping of hope struck through him when he could see your familiar house only a short distance down the road, having to hold himself back from flat-out sprinting the rest of the way there.

Though it was only about a thirty-second walk, it had been the longest in his whole entire life, and walking up the small steps of your porch was like something out of a nightmare. He could disgustingly feel the material change in flooring when he stepped off the pavement and onto the creaky wood, the sound grating against his now way too-sensitive ears. Dear god, would someone fucking help him already?

Of course, as if on cue, the red front door to your house swung open, but instead of being met with a friendly face, he was met with the barrel of your gun.

"Daryl?" You questioned as you lowered the weapon slightly, a smile stretching across your lips once you had confirmed who was standing and dicking around on your porch. "Daryl!" You fully dropped your defensive position, stuffing the weapon in the band of your pants as you prepared to throw yourself at the man, halting when you finally took in his ruined appearance.

His breathing was labored, and it was hard to keep himself upright on his own two legs, forcing him to lean against the wall by the door. "Hey doll"

You scoffed at him in disbelief, "Don't you dare even "hey doll" me, mister! What the hell happened to you? Get in here right now" Grabbing the front of his vest and pulling his heavy body inside, Daryl groaning as each movement caused pain to his body, slumping against the door when you slammed it shut.

He couldn't be happier when he felt you prying the buttons of his stupidly itchy vest off, him shrugging it off as well as his crossbow, clattering down on the floor and probably chipping the metal further.

"Jesus Daryl, you look fucking terrible. Did you feed on anything at all out there?" You purse your lips as you analyze and checked his unnaturally pale chest, letting out a surprised hiss at the burn lingering on your fingers tips from where you had brushed them against the skin of his shoulder

Daryl groaned as you directed him to sit on the couch, the short steps from the front door already leaving him utterly winded, almost dripping in sweat as he wheezed each breath of air.

“‘Wasn’t much… ‘wasn’t much out there” He spoke breathlessly, head spinning and his stomach loudly churning when you stood in front of him.

When you extended a hand out to cup his face, he tightly gripped your wrist with a shaky hand. “Don’. Please don’” He didn’t want to feed from you, not like this, not in a state where he couldn’t guarantee that he wouldn’t absolutely drain you.

“Daryl” You whispered softly, frowning slightly as you started taking your shirt off, and he wanted to scream at your stubbornness.

You straddled his lap and gently brushed the hair sticking to his forehead off, his blue eyes starting to tint red as the smell of your blood was strong, right in his face. “I don’ wanna”

“I know you don’t sweetheart, but you’ll die. What am I gonna do if you die?” You cupped his face, forcing his gaze onto yours. He whimpered slightly at your touch, his whole body sensitive and reactive.

Daryl shivered when you combed fingers through his hair, hands curling around your hips when you directed his head to your neck. “I trust you, more than I even trust myself” You whispered soothingly into his ear, and he almost wanted to cry.

He could smell the blood coursing through you like it was a burning candle, and his mouth was uncontrollably watering. His fangs were sharp and heavy, aching with the need to sink into your skin, which is exactly what he did, groaning against you at the first drops of blood, not wasting against another second before he was greedily taking mouthfuls.

It was so good, so warm and fresh, sweet and bitter. Daryl had drank lots of blood before, and yours was easily his favorite. He craved it during his time out there, not just because there was a serious lack in wild animals, but because it was addictive.

He squeezed your hips, soft and pillowy in his buzzing palms as he could feel himself starting to get hard in his pants, the more blood he swallowed the more drunk he got.

It made you feel good to watch his natural tan color fade back, his scarred back no longer a ghastly pale. You ran your fingers through his hair, occasionally curling your fingers and gripping the dark locks to grind down against his now-straining cock.

Daryl made soft, small sounds as he fed, each roll of your hips making each gulp of your blood taste so much better. His senses were at an all-time high, overwhelmed and at an absolute edge. He couldn’t help the way his hands pressed you down on his cock, hips desperately jerking against you as he could feel himself getting closer and closer, his head spinning in a blood lust haze.

He was so close, so very fucking close. His sharp claws had made themselves known, and you jolted when they painfully curled into your flesh, hips sputtering and slightly faltering in their movements. Daryl had no problem picking up the slack, almost fucking you right through his pants from how hard he was rutting up into you.

It was just all so much, his whole body on fire with pure arousal as he sighed around a final mouthful of crimson, trembling from his core as his orgasm washed over him, pressing your clothed cunt against him as hard as he could, making his already fuzzy mind draw a complete blank, a loud groan tearing from his throat that caused his fangs to slip out from where he had punctured the skin and drop his head against your shoulder, whimpering softly as he held you down.

You scratched his scalp comfortingly, feeling a little woozy from the amount of blood he had taken. He hummed against you as he started to come down from not only the high of his orgasm but bubbly buzz from his feast.

“Feel better?” You asked in a quiet, sleepy voice when Daryl’s tongue cleaned the drops of blood that had leaked from the small wounds, coating the area in his saliva so that it could heal.

He nodded as peppered you in appreciative and apologetic kisses, pulling you flush against his bare chest by wrapping his arms around your back, claws retracted and replaced with blunt nails. “M’sorry fer hurtin’, ya”

“Instead, you should be sorry for not feeding yourself, mister” You said as you shook your head, pinching his side as you got a bit upset again. “You know it scares me shitless when you do that”

“I know, I know. M’sorry for tha’ too” Daryl grumbled, feeling fatigued as well now that his tummy was full and satiated. His body was still weak and needed rest, now yours did as well considering he had taken a lot more than usual. “I’ll make it up to ya’” He said as he pushed himself up off the couch, grunting as it was a lot harder with tired muscles and one hand keeping his woman wrapped around him, adding a second once he was finally standing.

You giggled at that, arms hooked around his neck. “And just how will you do that?”

“Got a real good idea” Daryl smirked, hoisting you up as he ascended up the stairs to your shared bedroom, hungry for something else that was much better than blood.

I started writing this a few days ago I think this is the quickest I've written something

Vamp!Daryl is an absolute need. I'm loving every single post I see of him and I love watching the disease spread faster than fucking covid I jump for joy when I see someone I don't even know talking abt him is this what fame feels like is this what its like to be famous am I fucking famous

yes you do want more of this so go read more

Bloodthirsty @dixons-sunshine

Bite me @mydearestdaryl

181 notes · View notes

withahappyrefrain · 1 month

Note

YESS the “she can take it” SO HOT..like yeah Jake is being kinda dominate..fucking you..but Bob is just barking orders, pushing around, just being IN CHARGE like..owning the whole room, taking up space, just DOMINANT

"She's not made out of glass y'know," Bob chuckles, his shadow looming over you and Jake.

Jake lets out a frustrated grunt, greatly missing the days where Bob wouldn't talk to him unless he said something stupid.

Bob on the other hand, was getting immense joy from this hands on lesson you and he were providing Jake with.

When it came to sex, the Floyd's were not the first thing that came to Jake's mind. But after walking in on you two in the Hard Deck's bathroom, the pilot was intrigued.

He also realized that despite his years of experience, he still had a lot to learn.

The latest thrust from Jake pulls a whine from your lips. His cock feels great, but it's not quite reaching the spot that makes you see stars. At least, not yet.

You give the blonde an encouraging smile, "Bob's right. You can be rougher if you want."

Your husband leaned over, just three of his long fingers easily able to grasp your chin, forcing you to look up at him.

"Going by what he wants is exactly why our little friend is in this situation," Bob said through gritted teeth. Jake held back a comment on height upon recalling that Bob was in fact taller than him by several inches.

Vertical and horizontal.

"Now sweetie, tell Jake, what is it that you want?"

You looked into Jake's sea green eyes, "I want you to make me come. Without touching my clit."

Jake opened his mouth, ready to scoff at such a thing being possible. But then he recalled you and Bob in the bathroom, you sat on the counter while Bob thrust into you. He had made you come with just his cock, something Jake had yet to master.

"Can you.....help me?" Jake's voice was all but a whisper. You nodded, sending a knowing smile to Bob.

"Push her knees up to her chest, she'll feel your cock way better," Bob ordered.

"That's comfortable?" Jake asked.

Bob simply nodded, "She can take it. Plus it makes her feel dirty, which she loves. Isn't that right darlin'?"

Warmth flooded your face at Bob's nickname for you. Your husband tapped his long fingers against your mouth. Immediately, your lips parted, moaning upon feeling the digits on your tongue.

The sight makes Jake's cock twitch. Two weeks ago, he would have confidently said he was dominant in the bedroom.

Now?

He wasn't so sure. He still liked being in charge. But Bob was different. The quiet backseater had a way of commanding in the bedroom and Jake would be lying if he said he wasn't jealous.

A sharp slap against his thighs broke Jake out of his thoughts.

"Can you listen? Or do you need me to show you how she likes to be fucked? Again?"

Jake holds back a sarcastic comment. His ass is still healing from Bob's last punishment.

And he really needs to come.

So he hoists your legs up, pushing your knees to your chest. The new angle causes you to throw back your head now that you could feel Jake's cock even deeper.

"Fuck, r-right there!"

Bob smirks, "Told ya."

Jake mutters something indignant.

"What was that?" Bob's breath is hot on the shell of Jake's ear. The searing pain from his hair being pulled on went straight to his cock.

"Kiss his neck Bobby, he loves that," you giggled from underneath.

"If she's able to talk you're not fucking her hard enough. Go ahead Jake, fuck my wife."

Jake regretted every "baby on board" joke he had ever made.

#my writing #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman fic #jake hangman x you #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin x you #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #bob floyd x y/n #hangman x reader #hangman x you

178 notes · View notes

b0xerdancer-writes · 2 months

Text

It Wasn't Supposed To Happen Like This Part 6

Eris x Rhy's Sister! Reader

Summary: Eris used to be attached at the hip to Rhysand’s younger sister. Now that he has taken over as High Lord of the Autumn Court, his father’s old high table have been pressuring him to take a wife, he comes up with the brilliant lie that he's already courting someone and has been for several years now. Eris asks Rhysand’s little sister, the best way to get away with it and make it believable, to fake court her.

Warnings: Elain and Mor slander, cussing 18+, some nsfw lean but no sex scenes yet, alcohol, parental abuse, death, murder, arguing. Not proofread.

Trope/Prompt: Fake Dating

Word Count: 4,644

Notes: Let the ball begin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few weeks later I awoke to a soft knock on my bedroom door. I had been sleeping soundly with the small hound curled into my side, however the small knock was enough to wake her up. I had named her Brandy like the drink my mate was so fond of, she stretched and licked my face to wake me further just as the door squeaked open. Lucien laughed as I groaned and picked Brandy up off of me.

Wait…

Lucien?

Lucien!

Lucien had been out in Autumn Court helping Eris with preparations for the festival for about a week and a half now. His return was a surprise to me and I shot up from the comfy spot I had created.

“Lucien! What the fuck? When did you get back? You arse! You could have told me you’d be back today, I would have had breakfast made!” I growled at him, had he not had Brandy tucked into his arms I would have chucked a pillow at his face.

He laughed back at me and smiled brightly, his hair pulled up in a messy bun and dressed in a cream colored sweater, some comfy loose flowy pants that poofed around his knees from his riding boots, a small tabard for the dagger i had gifted him the first birthday he had that I had seen him since he had escaped to the Spring court. He smiled brightly and looked around my room where gift bag upon gift bag was piled up.

“We finished preparations a day earlier so Eris sent me back here to make sure everything was good and you were ready for tomorrow, He just got his suit last week and didn't need to get it altered by the way. I see he got a bit carried away with his little gifts.” He scratched brandy behind her floppy little ears and let out a small chuckle as she whined whenever he stopped.

“Honestly these are all from throughout the week you've been gone. I just haven't had a chance to go through all of them yet. I mean do we have anything to do today? You could help me, Luc!” I tilted my head at him and he sat Brandy on the floor.

“Well then let's get to it we have a lot to go through, I’ll go get us some coffee and some breakfast sweets from that bakery you like down the road, while you get dressed and ready for the day.” He dismissed himself from the room and I could hear the click of his boots on the floor as he made his way back to the front of the house.

“Hey Luc? Can you take Brandy on her morning walk since you're going out?” I yelled down after him and Brandy barked excitedly.

“Yep! I got you sister!” He whistled for Brandy who raced out of the room after the ginger male.

I heard the jingle of him clipping her leash followed by the click of the door shut. I forced myself out of bed and into the bathroom to freshen up for the lazy day, I moved my hair from my face and slipped into my closet. Once I had changed into some comfy clothes I sat criss-cross on the floor and began digging into one of the bags, the dress I would be wearing tomorrow was neatly hung on my closet door and was a looming reminder of what tomorrow could mean for me and Eris. Lucien returned just as I was beginning to sink into my own thoughts, Brandy was the first to greet me as she climbed her way into my lap. Lucien sat our two cups of coffee on my vanity table and joined me criss-cross on the floor.

The three of us went through bag after bag of gifts, Brandy helping the best she could by being our clean-up team: Her job? To tear up every loose scrap of tissue or wrapping paper that didn't stay in the distinct pile me and Lucien had created. The gifts were unpredictable, the variety too large to guess, still Lucien and I tried our best. So far it had ranged everything from a bottle of wine and nice glasses to drink from and small pieces of jewelry to toys for Brandy, decor pieces to make the small apartment more obviously themed like the Autumn Court, and some very obviously expensive pieces like the last bag I had just opened. Wrapped in shimmery copper paper and tied with a dark green bow, the box was light and Lucien hummed loudly.

“What do you think it is?” He chirped

“Hmmmm, my guess is going to be something for the dance tomorrow, it's the newest present that just came in yesterday.” I hummed back in response.

Pulling the large bow, it untied itself effortlessly, I removed the lid. Just as quickly as I had peaked inside I slammed the lid closed. Lucien looked up at me startled.

“What is it?” He leaned forward trying to grab the box from me to peek inside himself. I swatted his hand and hissed.

He pulled his hand back with a faux-shocked look on his face as he gaped at me. I opened the box again and stared at the jewelry within it. Lucien stared at me expectantly and I tossed the lid into the trash pile, Brandy growling at it as it almost fell out.

“No… he didnt.”Lucien gasped and covered his mouth, the metal eye whirring as his eyes widened.

My eyes darted between the box and Lucien.

“Oh you have him hooked. Seriously hooked.” Lucien mumbled and grabbed a sip from his coffee.

“What do you mean Lucien?” I hissed.

“That, sister, is from the vaults of the autumn court. I saw it earlier this week when I went down there with Eris looking for a piece of art he wanted hung up in the main hall for the dance.”

He murmured as he took another sip to be dramatic.

“Oh.”I mumbled, stunned.

“Oh is right, he's wrapped around your finger hun.” Brandy deposited one of her new toys in his lap and he threw it out in the hall for her.

In the box, nestled on a silky pillow the same color as the bow, was a gold diadem decorated in branches and leaves with a ruby in the center of the point that came between your brows and it somehow matched the cuffs and necklace he had bought me earlier. Beside it was a folded note, written in the familiar cursive scrawl I knew as Eris.

“All preparations have been completed for the festival, Lucien has been a major help in setting everything up while I've been in meeting after meeting. I’m sure you are able to recognize this piece is older, I spied it while in the vaults with Lucien, while I admit it was not my intention at the time to be in the vaults for this piece and I was in fact there for an ancient painting that has been passed down in my family. After I had left the vaults the piece you hold now refused to leave my mind, I imagined how well it would match the cuffs and necklace you will be wearing with your dress for the festival in two days time, I would be honored if you wore this with those accessories as well. It would send a message to all my advisors and those I wish to see replaced, I know it seems a lot and it will take everyone by surprise to see you wear a crown from autumn but my mother had it crafted as a gift for whatever female I decided I was going to court, so it will see its use in you. I will be forced to wear my own similar crown due to my duties as High Lord, so it will make us match even more and present a further unified front to the people of my court who doubt me and pressure me into taking a wife. I thank you in advance my dear. Love, Eris.” I read aloud.

Lucien stared back at me with wide eyes as he prompted my response.

I didn't give one, simply picked up the diadem and rose to my feet. I stood in front of the mirror on my vanity and placed the small gold band on my head, then looked at Lucien with tears in my eyes. He smiled sadly.

“You’ll look like a High Lady tomorrow. Mother save him, Eris will have you decorated and on display more than Rhys does with Feyre.” He huffed with the slightest smile.

I took the crown off and gently sat it on my vanity next to the other jewelry I would be dressed in tomorrow. “Honestly Luc… I think I’m okay with that. I mean it will get suspicion off of Eris, and show him the lengths I'm willing to go for him. Fuck, maybe it will even cause the bond to snap for him, a girl can hope right? If it doesn't go well then I still get to have my fun and imagine what it would be like, right Luc?” I mused at him, sadly at first but then excitedly as I processed the information myself.

He simply smirked at me. “Sure thing, Sister. All I’m saying is, I called it~”

We spent the rest of the evening in the living room burning the tissue paper in the fireplace, eventually Lucien stood and announced he was going to start making dinner. Our night stayed uneventful as we both took our places either side of the table to eat, Lucien eventually herding me to his room to show me the outfit he would be wearing and to show me the trinkets he had brought back himself. Brandy eventually stumbled into the room tripping on her own ears with a big yawn, I collected her from the floor and she whined softly, eagerly awaiting bed.

Lucien chuckled as I dismissed both Brandy and myself from the room, he wished us both a goodnight and closed the door behind us. I had installed steps for Brandy, courtesy of Lucien, so she could climb up and down from my bed as she wished; however due to her size and tendency to trip on her own ears from time to time, often enough I just picked her up to help her up and down. I had sat her in a faux-fur blanket and she began immediately curling into a ball. I couldn't blame her, tomorrow was going to be a long day and she would be joining me; Eris had gifted her an elegant collar that had been lined with fur padding, a deep wine red collar that had small maple leaves embroidered into it, and a little copper maple leaf tag hung from it. I changed into a night slip and joined her in the warm covers, the second I laid down she curled into my side and I dismissed the faelights.

I awoke earlier than I normally did, the dark of the sky just beginning to dim, to find Lucien finishing up his hair in the mirror and he offered to take Brandy out for her morning walk while I got ready myself. Passing him the sleepy pup, he gave me a soft smile and disappeared down the dim hallway, only lit up by one small faelight we used to make sure we didn't trip on any of Brandy’s toys when it was dark inside the house. I slipped into the bathroom around him and leaned down to draw a bath, only to find the bath freshly drawn and warmed to the perfect temperature. Lucien and I had this habit, since we knew the others daily routine so well, from small things like fresh cups of coffee prepared to the perfect temperature with all the fixings in it we had wanted to things such as this, all in favor of making the others day easier for them; it had come to us naturally being roommates for awhile now and even before that when he was small, we would exchange small trinkets like something he found in the gardens and I would bring him a treat from Night Court the next time I saw him.

Lucien returned about half an hour later, a few minutes after I had decided to finally leave the warmth of the bath, now feeling clean and fresh enough to look like the soon-to-be high lady Eris was wanting me to play. I wrapped a fluffy towel around me and slid into my room, slipping on my undergarments and finally stepping into the A-line skirt I had fallen in love with weeks ago.

Lucien knocked softly at the door. “Will you need any help with fastening the dress closed Sister?”

Lucien’s new nickname for me rarely caught me off guard anymore unless he was using it to tease me for what he claimed was Eris’s obvious affections.

“Yes please, actually I could use it now.” I chirpped over my shoulder.

The door clicked open and Lucien stepped in quietly and began fiddling with the clasps on the back. “You know all the high lords will be there tonight right? It's the first holiday or festival hosted in the court since Eris became High Lord. All eyes will be on you two.”

I could hear his genuine worry for me in his voice. “I know Luc, I’ll be okay, Eris will be okay. We’ve got this handled.” I smiled over my shoulder at him and he offered me a unsure smile back,

“I know,” he sighed “I just worry about you two, you two are some of the only family I have, save for Jurian and Vassa.”

I raised my brow at him, he hadn’t mentioned any dealings with the two recently, though I knew the affections he harbored for the two when they comforted after Tamlin sent all of his stuff to the manor south of the Spring Court.

“Will they be there today or tonight as well?” I offered him the ability to further discuss them.

“They should be, during the day at least. That's why we expanded the festival partially, so Vassa could also enjoy it while it also making a statement about Eris’s dedication to the court.” he seemed to brighten up a bit as he got distracted talking about the two.

He sat on the bed and Brandy scrambled to try and climb up the stairs, but when she failed and tripped over her ears Lucien ultimately ended up moving her into his lap. He continued to ramble about some need to know stuff that was seen as customary in the Autumn Court, amongst other subjects, I slipped on the golden cuffs, clasped the necklace around my neck and straightened it out, followed by the ring Eris had gifted me. I slipped on some surprisingly comfortable yet stylish black pumps that had gold detailing on the heels. I grabbed the collar from my vanity and turned to where Lucien was holding Brandy, he unclasped her old collar with a loud gasp and she leapt from his lap, bounding across my bed we both laughed at her antics until she finally calmed and I was able to slip the new one on around her neck.

Lucien stood and ushered me into the vanity chair, he refused to let me do my own hair for events if he had any say in it. He lost himself in styling it before finally setting the golden diadem on my head with a nod, he picked up the container of kohl I had and began lining my eyes with it. Once he had finished, we clipped Brandy into her leash and I picked her up in my arms, she seemed so proud of her new collar. We slipped from our apartment and the wards of the locks clicked into place behind us, he helped me down the stairs slowly making sure none of the tulle or silk got caught. Once we were on the sidewalk I realized the many citizens of Velaris that were out walking around, the sun now early in the sky still well before noon, had their eyes on me and were whispering back and forth with each other with eager smiles on their faces. I knew what they were thinking, Lucien had graciously pointed it out to me yesterday, Oh how I was going to enjoy the look on Rhys’s face when he saw me tucked into Eris’s side; Azriel would probably be told to take a breather by Rhys unless they brought Elain, she might be able to keep him calm.

Lucien tucked me and Brandy into his side, though I could have winnowed us myself Lucien was adamant about me preserving my energy as I ‘have a long day ahead’. Much Like Eris’s winnowing Lucien’s was warm like the caress of heat you would get from sitting beside a bon-fire, but it was unique in itself as it felt like it glittered or shined, that instead of bending the world around him the light and sun rays bent to his whim. Before I could even blink we had appeared in the Autumn Court, the smell of spices and cider filled the air and filled me with a warm familiarity that made my chest ache for Eris. It was only after I stepped out of Lucien’s side that I realized where we stood, the small clearing where me and Eris had once called our sanctuary had been turned into a private garden, a large hedge lined the outer edge of the clearing and led towards the forest house a short distance away.

Only then as I looked around did I realize Eris had the entire clearing decorated in soft fae lights, a sculpted bench sat in the place the old wooden log had, the sir had a soft chill to it and reminded me why I loved this place as much as I did. Lucien stiffened beside me as I sat Brandy on the forest floor, leash clipped neatly to the padded collar, she barked happily in the way of the opening in the hedge that led towards the house.

When my attention drifted towards the gorgeously carved archway, there stood Eris wide-eyed in a suit that matched my dress: primarily black, with the same flame effect of my underskirt on his waist coat. I swallowed sharply and smiled at him, my chest pounded and the bond throbbed with how perfect he looked, with how obvious it would be to all others he was mine.

He gathered his composure and stepped forward, hugging Lucien who dismissed himself through the way Eris had just come, then turned to me and brought my hand to his lips and he bowed softly.

“Cauldron save me, you look gorgeous, just the image I wished to present to my court. Thank you for doing this my lady.”

I smiled softly, feeling heat begin to creep into my face and a throb in my chest. “Mother above Eris, you call me gorgeous yet have you looked in a mirror? You are the epitome of a High Lord!”

He smiled back at me softly, pulling me into a tight hug he sighed softly. “No I mean it Darling, Thank You, tonight would have been so much harder without you beside me. At least now I’ll avoid having to deal with my father’s advisors barking at me to keep my eyes peeled for a pretty female.”

I leaned my head against his chest and sighed, taking in his warm scent. “No worries Eris, like I promised, I’m here if you need me. No matter what. You need me to face every high lord in Prythian all at the same time while posing as your girl? So be it I’ll deal with their eyes on me, no prob.”

I heard him chuckle softly and relax in my arms, Brandy however was not pleased with the fact she was not getting any attention and was adamant about letting us know it. He released me from his hold and looked down at the small hound, with his hands on his hips.

“I hear you mam!” He turned back to me again. “What did you end up naming her?” he kneeled down and scratched behind her long ears.

“Brandy.” I smiled gently watching the scene unfold in front of me.

He snorted as he giggled, Brandy moving to nibble at his hand. “Fitting, she's got the spice of a fire brandy. And it's good to see the collar fits her.”

He knelt there petting the small pup, while looking her over. “No health issues? No training issues?”

I shook my head. “No, I haven't had any issues with her at all. She's been well behaved.”

He smiled and Brandy rolled over onto her belly. “Good, I figured she'd be a good blood line, her sire was Maple’s great-great grandpup.”

I smiled brightly at the two on the forest floor. “I thought I recognized the spunk.”

We both laughed and he rose from the floor, Brandy in his arms happily trying to get to his face, tongue lolling out and settling for just licking at the exposed skin of his arm. I took her from his arms and he offered me his arm, I linked mine and in unison we both took a deep breath.

“To the promise we made all those years ago to never leave the other alone?” He looked down at me out of the corner of his eye.

I nodded. “To the leaves of Maple that were the only beings to hear our promise.”

He nodded back at me and squared his shoulders. All those years ago, when we had made the deal that initially was just him asking to never be left alone, I had extended it to be either way: that We would never leave the Other alone. It had been just us and the trees that day, and as we sealed the deal we had spoken those words to each other for the first time; a sharp sting followed by a dull throbbing on my ankle led me to discover the sight of two small maple leaves intertwined with eachother. Eris had grasped at his protruding hip bone just below where his belt was clasped around his waist, the location of his tattoo had caused my face to heat, just the thought of it today caused blood to rush to my face.

In my dedication to Eris as my mate I had never chased after another male, had no interest in them either really. Of course I knew what would be asked of me as his wife, if had come to that at that time, but all I had ever really seen was my brothers after training, or the low slung pants of male’s at Rita’s that revealed just a little too much for my liking. It had often caused me to lose interest in the current objective that led to me seeing the other males, the bond aching in my chest reminding me of loyalty to Eris, often caused me to return to my room or apartment and escape into the books either within the library or in later years what Lucien and I had collected within our little apartment. Every time we echoed the promise we had made back in the day, I was reminded very quickly of the tattoo on my ankle and the same one on his hip. I felt the heat in my face extended to my pointed ears as my eyes glanced over where the concealed tattoo would be before I straightened my back and looked forward.

Tonight would be hard, I decided. With Eris looking so perfect, the ache of want that had settled in my chest with a slow throb, and the heat in my face and chest that slowly moved lower and lower every time I glanced at Eris by my side. The crunch of fallen leaves under my heels drew me back to reality as we neared the gardens of the first house, I could hear music and laughter from within the house. The halls had been closed off in a way Eris and I could make a grand entrance together through the second entrance into the grand ballroom.

Our steps echoed against the halls as we walked in silence through the now warm halls of the Forest house, till we stopped right in front of a set of large wooden doors. The music and laughter was obvious on the other side of it, two guards looked back and forth between each other and then to Eris.

Eris looked down at me with a worried smile. “Ready?”

“Ready.”I echoed.

We both nodded at each other and then Eris nodded at the guards. Two finely dressed males with simple leathers on, a helmet in one arm and a sheathed blade at either side. They knocked firmly on the door once, the music and chatter from the other side becoming quiet as I heard a loud booming voice clear their throat.

“Introducing our High Lord of Autumn, Eris Vanserra,” soft cheering erupted but was quickly silenced again as the male continued, murmurs replaced the cheering.

“And the female he has declared he will be courting: The Princess of Night Court herself!” Whoops and hollers could be heard as the doors began opening slowly.

Eris and I took a deep breath, Brandy made herself comfortable yet regal looking in one of my arms. I let Eris lead us into the room of Prythian residents. Eris nodded and mouthed a thanks to the small male I now realized was the announcer. We came to a stop a few steps in front of the announcer, and Eris cleared his own throat unlinking his arm with mine.

“Thank you all for being here, I simply wanted to start this celebration with a quick speech.” The way the light of the grand glass chandelier hit him I was breathless, he seemed like the only male in the room as he drew everyone's attention to him.

“As many of you know this is the first holiday I will be celebrating with you all as High Lord, but I would not have been able to do it if it wasn't for the female at my side and my dear brother Lucien, both of you helped me greatly even if you don’t know it. Secondly, I would like to thank the citizens of Autumn Court for believing in me as their new High Lord. My goal from the second I took over the throne has been to reform this court and with your help and dedication I have been able to begin working in that direction. Think tonight not only as a celebration of a holiday but also as a celebration for your hard work. Now please let me not continue to ramble on because I will with thanking you for every little thing that has made tonight possible, and continue your celebrations.” Cheers erupted and I smiled sweetly at Eris as I extended my hand to him which he took eagerly, Brandy cheering him on with her own little howls and bays.

A servant brought around small champagne flutes, both of us taking one as we clinked them together.

“To tonight?” I chirped.

“To us.” Eris echoed my tone, and we both took a sip from the glasses in our hands.

No, tonight wouldn’t be as difficult as I had thought, tonight would be fantastic. I had Eris at my side after all and if all the eyes on us had any indication how it was going so far, it was working.

Taglist:

@stained-glass-eyes0708 @acourtofbatboydreams @abysshaven

@wallacewillow0773638 @azriels-mate2 @sassyslytherinshai

@sparksandstarss @pandabiiissh @saltedcoffeescotch @cirwin2013

@minnieoo @easchies @melsunshine

@sweetcarolina-24 @florenceivy @inloveallthetime

@azrielsmate3 @witchymomfrien @eternallyelvish

@mybestfriendmademe

#acotar x reader #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #eris vanserra x reader #eris acotar #lucien acotar #lucien vanserra #acotar fanfiction

175 notes · View notes

sourcherryandsprinkles · 2 months

Note

amber freeman x reader with 14 would be soooo good

14. ‘’Picturing you with someone else makes me sick.’’

SCREAM WEEK PT 3/7

I got multiple requests for this one character/prompt combo. I couldn't not write it

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Amber smiled at the party-goers inside her house as she walked through the kitchen, pleased to see that people were having a good time. Her house was the perfect place for parties. It was massive and her parents were out of town almost every weekend.

She got roped into a conversation with Wes and Tara, sipping her beer every now and then.

‘’We should go. I’ll ask Mindy if she wants to come,’’ Wes said, looking forward to tomorrow’s double feature. ‘’The drive-in is an hour from here, but I’ll ask to borrow my mom’s car.’’

Amber wrinkled her nose. ‘’Do we really have to invite her? I don’t want to deal with her detailed critiques on the drive back.’’

‘’They’re showing her favorite movie. We can’t not invite her, Amber,’’ Tara reasoned, not wanting to be the one to exclude a friend — even for understandable reasons.

‘’The last time we went to the theater with her, she didn’t shut up the whole walk to your house,’’ Amber countered, her irritation evident in her voice. ‘’I do not care what she will write in her Letterboxd review or what she—’’ She didn’t get to finish her sentence, her jaw tightening when she caught a girl chatting you up on the couch. She had a mischievous grin as was leaning in close, her hand resting dangerously high on your thigh. ‘’I’ll be right back,’’ she told Tara and Wes, her eyes not withdrawing from you.

She made her way through the crowd, quickly coming up with a way to get the brunette to go away. You were her girl.

‘’Sorry to interrupt,’’ she interjected, approaching the couch with a practiced smile. "Didn't you leave with Sabrina last week? You might want to have a chat with her. I overheard her mentioning something about chlamydia and possibly spreading it around. It might be a good idea to schedule a check-up with your doctor."

The brunette beside you thanked Amber for the information and hurried off in search of Sabrina. Amber’s warning made her look like a good person, like she was looking out for that girl, but you knew her too well to believe her intentions were good.

Amber took a sip of her beer, then huffed a laugh. ‘’They think that because they’re lesbians they can’t catch anything.’’

‘’Sabrina does not have chlamydia,’’ you asserted, eyeing Amber skeptically.

She shrugged nonchalantly. ‘’She might. She’s making out with Connor on the porch, the guy gets around a lot.’’

You gave her the benefit of the doubt for this once. ‘’I’m gonna get another beer,’’ you said, standing up to get a bottle in the kitchen, but Amber grabbed your arm.

‘’Actually, we’re low on beer. Can you help me get some?’’

Following someone into their dark basement was on the list of things to never do in horror movies. That’s how a lot of idiots get murdered. But you doubted Amber would ever plot to kill you. She could be evil-minded, but she wasn’t a psychopath.

The basement door closed behind you, making you jump. ‘’How many beers do you need to bring up? Because if it’s more than a dozen, we should ask Chad for backup.’’

Ignoring your question, Amber halted at the bottom of the stairs, her gaze piercing into you like daggers. ‘’What the fuck was that?’’ she snapped, her tone sharper than the edge of a knife.

Caught off guard by her sudden outburst, you blinked in confusion. ‘’What was what?’’

‘’Don’t play dumb with me. I saw you flirting with that bitch upstairs. You let her put her hand on your thigh. On my couch.’’

Ah, so that's what all the tension was about upstairs. Why she made up that nasty rumor about Sabrina. Amber was jealous.

‘’I thought we weren’t exclusive.’’

‘’We’re not,’’ she grumbled, defensive.

‘’Then why are you barking at girls that get anywhere close to me?’’ you pressed as you took a step forward, a hint of amusement creeping into your voice. ‘’Are you perhaps…jealous?’’

Amber's reaction was immediate, her pride refusing to let your insinuation slide. She let out an indignant huff. ‘’I’m way better looking than that girl,’’ she retorted, her voice dripping with a confidence that bordered on arrogance.

She wasn’t wrong. No girl in Woodsboro was prettier than Amber.

‘’Then why are you acting like she can take me from you? That girl and I were just flirting for fun — at least, I was.’’

Despite your reassurance, Amber didn't release her grip on her emotions. Instead, she closed the remaining distance between you, standing so close you could feel her breath as she spoke. ‘’Never do that again, got it?’’ she hissed with a possessiveness to her tone that made your core clench. ‘’Picturing you with someone else makes me sick.’’

—

Scream taglist: @misfityanii @beautybyfire @iluvscream191 @mariposa555 @bella7866 @o638 @lulubelle14 @luvvtxinityy @frasersgf @Eddiefrickenmunson @jasperr-the-friendly-ghost @ghostf4cee @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @wandaswigglywoos @xjennyx2 @jennasslut @thatonesblog @mikaelsonsstuff @icarly23 @tcddszn @bt.oliana @skyesthebomb @a1mzcruml3y @red1culous @iluurmom @popeheywardssecretgf @michaelangdonsslut @byhrxb @kamthecoolest @kattybug @ravenstrueluv @landryslxys @die4niyahhh @sl4sh3rfuck3r @radiant-whore @Meadzy21 @luci1fer @nomorespahgetti @bloodyhw @depthsofdespairr @bellysbeach @wilmalovegood @loupiotesworld @wenvierismycomfort @t-candy @s-al-em @darylscvmdumpster @tommysaxes @adaydreamaway08 @johannelis2302nely @aqshua @lynbubble @luiise @planetkt @vampyrgoff @adrluvh @mymultiveres @miqi-16 @not-liah @lovenats01 @doestalker @lonelywitchv2 @lausley336 @arinexeisnotworking @halforangecuts @l3ndryz @ilovelandry @your-platonic-gay-lover @danniackerman @angelxxrose @lottiefromsam @thecrowdedstreetin1944 @cinnamonbun222 @angelxxrose @lottiefromsam @zoeynicolas @thecrowdedstreetin1944 @cinnamonbun222 @pumkinnroses @cruzgrecia @sunnysunny133696 @aesthetixhoe @gizmodecaprio @bingsbitch @buckyswhxre @emerald-09

All and more taglist: @kenqki @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis @katherinejess @rafesgirlstuff @lafleshlumpeater @iamluminosity

#amber freeman #amber freeman x reader #amber freeman imagine #scream #scream 5 #scream imagine #scream week #not much of a fan of this one... didn't go as planned

193 notes · View notes

eddiernunson · 10 months

Text

Really Drives Me Mad | Older!Eddie x Fem!Reader | 18 +

Previous Part | Master List | Next Part

Big big thank you to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you for editing and spit balling ideas and giving feedback.

Another big thank you to @bebe07011 for spit balling ideas and fueling my ego <3

I have no idea where this story or be without either of you girls. Or me, for that matter.

Word count: 16.6k

Warnings: Degradation/praise, light use of sir without any discussion, light hunter/prey play, crying while fucking (eddie), and a whole steddie story at the start. Lots of talk of their future in this part.

Author's note: When I say I am blown away by the reception of this fanfic, wholeheartedly mean it. Any word of kindness you have given just fueled the fire in me. I have thoroughly enjoyed writing it and exploring where the story will take us.

Due to some worry in the comments from last part I will clear this up: Neither Eddie nor Reader will be cheating, they're it for one another. Steve is here as a long time friend, someone with a wife and kids at home.

That being said, thank you so much, I really do appreciate it.

edit: somehow the first paragraph was missing? all fixed.

About 26/27 Years Ago:

At the failure of both their university careers, Steve and Eddie both dropped out within weeks of one another. This was unplanned, neither one of them knowing as they went back to Hawkins to a mini reunion. They agreed to meet one another for a drink, just the two of them, where Steve kindly asked how Eddie’s schooling was going, to which Eddie answered sheepishly that he had dropped out. Steve let out a bark of laughter, laughing through his response that he had also dropped out.

The mutual sigh of relief waved over them both, the two of them grateful they wouldn’t be receiving that same damn look of pity again. Their conversation then flowed into ease; the embarrassment was no longer there for either of them. Since they both dropped out, they each had found a dead-end job to make their ends meet while they figured out their next move.

Simply, they were at the exact same spot in life. This would be reoccurring for them over the next few years, finding their wives within the same six-month span, and both Arlo and Dylan being born within a year of one another. It’s no wonder why they became so close.

Steve had a crazy idea in their third hour in the bar booth, a little bit buzzed. “Dude. We should go to Vegas.”

Eddie wrinkled his eyebrows, completely thrown off by the suggestion. “What?”

“C’mon, Vegas! Our jobs both suck, and we’re the only ones who actually understand each-other’s shituations.”

Eddie sighed and took another sip of his beer. “Fuck it, let’s go.”

“Fuck yeah!”

“When?”

“Now!”

Eddie nearly spit out his beer, looking at Steve like he was crazy. “Now?”

“Dude. I still have my parents’ credit cards. They’re too lazy to actually cut me off.” Steve’s words were a bit slurred, holding up the many black cards.

Eddie downed his beer; the financials were his number one reason not to go. If this was gonna be on the Harrington’s dime, you best believe he would take full advantage of his friend’s shitty parents’ money.

Halfway through their first bus, Steve and Eddie started to sober up and wondered if it was a good idea. Too late, they were already four hours away. It took a total of 31 hours of driving on the road and about six different buses, but they finally made it to Nevada with nothing but the shirts on their backs and delirious glee.

The first two days they spent gambling and shooting the shit, both nights staring up at the bodies of women with numerous dollar bills in string thongs. (Eddie will omit this part when he tells it to you, for your own sanity’s sake.) On the third night, as Steve was a bit more drunk than the previous two, Eddie found a strong ass strain of weed on the strip and was a bit stoned. One of them managed to convince the other that finding girls to hook up with was the good idea.

They both went on with their night, keeping an eye out for any girl they could prospect. Even with a few conversations with some girls, they both came up short. Hooking up with women who were also running away from their problems was a bad idea.

Steve found a girl, but soon realized she was a dud when she made fun of Eddie’s bandana wrapped around his head. Eddie came up to Steve as she rolled her eyes and stomped off. Jesus. As he rested on the bar, he noticed something he wondered if he had imagined the whole three days they were there. Eddie’s eyes lingered on him, checking him out not-so-subtly. Steve leered on Eddie’s soft pink lips for too long for Steve to confidently tell himself he was not interested. His eyes raked down Eddie, taking in everything, subconsciously licking his lips. Having these thoughts, he realized Eddie was talking to him the entire time and he didn’t take in a single word.

“Well, that was a bust. C’mon. Let’s go get our sleep, we’re spending the next two days bussing home.” Steve yanked Eddie by the sleeve of the gift shop shirt he got up to the hotel elevator.

Eddie wandered into the bathroom when they got to their room and when he came out, he saw Steve sitting on the edge of his bed, legs out and leant back on straight arms. Eddie chuckled nervously. As dorky as it was, Steve looked fantastic in the makeshift gift shop outfit he had gotten himself.

“Steve?” He asked, hesitantly walking towards him.

An uncontrollable huff of laughter left Steve’s mouth, he stood up to face Eddie, accidentally meeting him only inches away from his face. It was a flicker. Only a flicker. A flicker of Eddie’s eyes looking directly to Steve’s lips, and Steve couldn’t help but smile. “You know, Eddie. If you want to kiss me, all you have to do is ask.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide, the panic in his face was clear. “I-I…” He stuttered, his breathing picked up exponentially in the last two minutes and the air in the hotel room was thick.

Steve gently placed one hand on Eddie’s cheek bone, slowly caressing it as to calm the nerves he could tell were radiating off Eddie. He smiled, glancing down very obviously to Eddie’s mouth to ask for permission. Eddie nodded the tiniest goddamn nod in the world and nearly blacked out when Steve’s lips came rushing for his own.

When their lips met, Eddie moaned into it, moving to someone’s bed, he couldn’t tell nor did he care which, and let Steve fall on top of him.

The kisses were messy, clothes were thrown all over the hotel room, and the sex was rough and giggly, but desperate.

And only one time, they decided as they woke up on opposite sides of the bed, laughing at the sheer absurdity that filled the air as they were both wrapped in white sheets.

“Uh, Eddie? It’s for you… his name is Steve Harrington?” Eddie pauses, in the middle of hanging a sweater in what seems to be the designated spot for knitwear. A quick assessment tells you that you now have more sweaters than you need, observing them all hung delicately by his hands.

“No way.” Eddie mutters, a smile slowly creeping up on his face. He jogs right past you to the hallway and down the stairs, the quick thumping of his feet loud in the silence of the house.

Your brain takes a moment to catch up to you, following Eddie’s lead back down the stairs. As the front entrance comes into view halfway down the stairs, you see the two men wrapped up in a genuine embrace, arms flexed as they hug one another. They separate, but not by much, maintaining only a few feet between them.

“You didn’t tell me when you were coming!” Eddie accuses playfully, patting Steve on his shoulder.

Steve’s hands are on his hips, shrugging his shoulders. “Well, it wouldn’t have mattered anyway, I ended up coming 2 weeks early.”

“No shit, hey?” Eddie leans back, crossing his arms.

They fall into a conversation so easily that their comfort with one another radiates off them. You would be offended Eddie hasn’t introduced you to him yet if it weren’t for their entertaining back and forth with one another.

“How long have you two known each other?” You mistakenly interrupt them, cutting off the conversation.

“Uh, since high school.” Eddie answers, elbowing Steve.

Steve’s eyes widen deliriously, jerking back at the neck. “Uh, try Jr. High.” He laughs. “Eddie here was the new kid.” He seems to laugh at the memory of young Eddie. Man, you’ll need photographic proof. “The weird-o new kid.”

“Oh, sorry my mom abandoned me, Steve.” Eddie laughs, not a lick of remorse behind it. You gulp, your heartstrings pulled at his throwaway comment.

“Abandonment issues can forgive weirdness only for so long, Eddie.”

“Yeah, but I got it renewed fifteen years ago. Didn’t even have to ask, she just did it for me.”

There’s a moment of silence until they break into laughter, poking fun at one another.

“I’m so sorry, who’s this?” Steve gestures to you, walking over to where you’re standing by the stairs.

“Oh, I’m Y/N.” You hold your hand out to him, somewhat nervous to be meeting someone who’s known Eddie for so long. Decades long before you were even born.

Steve’s hand meets yours and shakes it gracefully, his kind chocolate brown eyes meeting yours. “He paying you well?” You’re not sure how to answer this, your hand still holding Steve’s as you and Eddie give another a look of confusion. “Oh, sorry. You must be Dylan’s girlfriend! Where is he off to, anyway?” Steve lets go of your hand.

“Steve?”

“Hmm?”

“Remember I told you I was seeing someone?” You smile to yourself under the mere indication that Eddie talked to someone about you.

Steve nods, remembering the life in Eddie’s voice when he called. “Yep.”

Eddie points to you, gesturing multiple times until Steve finally gets the hint. “Oh…oh. Oh!” Steve’s hands move back to his hips, his eyes switching back and forth between you and Eddie quickly. “But she’s a child.” Steve deadpans, pointing to you and furrowing his brows at Eddie.

Eddie chuckles, placing his arm around you as Steve takes it in. You’re slightly offended on your own behalf at the prospect of being called a child. Eddie places a kiss on your temple to ease the tension, making you melt into it. “No, she’s not.”

You tilt your head back at Eddie, giving him a sleepy smile, eyes half closed. He kisses you as if to put the final nail in the coffin in any disbelief Steve might’ve had. You breathe deeply as he pulls away, and goddamn, did you have a long day today.

“Wait until Robin hears you’re dating someone half your age.” Steve muses, shaking his head. “She’s gonna have a field day.”

“Wait till she hears we’re already shacked up.” Eddie jokes, bringing you to the couch and therefore leading Steve as well.

As you sit down on the couch, you cuddle into him, head laying down on his chest. Steve asks how his shop is doing, to which Eddie gives the run down on the nicest cars he’s seen and a customer’s hunk of junk he couldn’t believe was still driving around. Steve explains the logistics of his job, and by the tone of Eddie’s voice, you could tell he had no idea any of what Steve was saying, but he was being supportive in tone, nonetheless.

“How are the kids?” Eddie asks, and you watch as Steve’s eyes light up in response.

“Oh, they’re great.”

“How old are they?” You ask, a tad curious.

“Uh, Arlo is 24, Nick is 17, Dustin is 15, and Eliza is 4.” Steve riles off, letting his head fall back on the couch. Damn, he sure didn’t look like a dad of four.

“Is Eliza 4 already?” Eddie asks, shaking his head.

“Sure is.” Steve answers, bringing out his phone. He unlocks it, and presumably goes into his photos until passing it over to you and Eddie. “Here. This was from yesterday.”

“Awww.” You let out, seeing the image of a little girl with Steve’s curls playing on a water mat.

“Oh, aww” Eddie lets out, laughing through it. Eliza is adorable, that much is clear. But as you look up at Eddie scrolling through a few of the photos of Eliza playing in the water, the hearts in his eyes are undeniable. He laughs softly at them, as if he can’t get enough of any of the photos. As Eddie passes the photos with his praises of Eliza, a stirring gut feeling sits there, a feeling you’ve been proud that you’ve been able to hold off with Eddie already having a grown child.

Goddamn, you wanted to have this man’s babies. Or at least, baby. The idea of him looking this sweetly at a child you made together invades your heart and makes you squirm on his chest a bit. You lean off his chest, afraid of these strong feelings of wanting this much of a future with him; it was a little scary. “I’m sleepy. Been a long day, I’m gonna go take a nap.”

“Alright, here.” He gets up with you, taking your hand and walking you around the couch. “Be right back, Steve.”

Eddie goes up the stairs to your room, escorting you to your now shared bed. Last week it had dark grey sheets. Now it has your favourite yellow daisy-themed sheets that Eddie insisted upon using. You lie down, still thinking of the way his eyes lit up and the smile that took over his face from the pictures. It made something stir in you. You were exhausted from your long day, that was no lie, but needed the excuse to leave before you did something crazy.

Like riding him on the couch. (And begging for his babies)

“Have a good sleep, sweetheart. I’ll wake you when dinner’s ready.” He kisses your forehead, soft and sweet. “Love you.”

“Love you.” You mutter through your breath, eyes already closing.

You’re already fast asleep by the time Eddie closes the door. As he reaches the bottom of the steps, Steve looks up at him expectantly, his brow slightly furrowed. He’s concerned, and to be fair, he has a reason to be. “So, we’re dating 20-year-olds, now?”

Eddie bites his tongue from correcting your age. “I guess you could say that.”

“What is this, some sort of midlife crisis? Get a red sports car, not someone who beats my oldest by months, hell your kid by months. I mean, come on, man. Use your brain.” Steve taps his shoulder on the last sentence, surely thinking he’s putting Eddie’s head back on right. However, Eddie just sits through the lecture without defending himself so he can say his piece when the time comes. “I-I mean where did you even find her, on her way to school?”

The front door slams. Dylan’s home. “Dad, am I tripping or is Uncle Steve’s car out front—Hey!” He cuts himself off, jogging toward them as soon as he sees Steve on the couch. Steve stands up to give him a tight hug, having known Dylan since the day he was born. “What’re you doing here?”

“Came by for a visit, turns out your dad’s having a midlife crisis.”

Dylan’s brows pinch together as he glances around Steve to Eddie for clarification. Eddie shrugs his shoulders, pretending not to know a single thing Steve was talking about. “What, did he get a sports car or something? He says they look pretty but they’re not made to last.”

“No, no. I was talking about his pretty new girlfriend.” The pang of possessiveness that hits Eddie in the chest is unprecedented for Steve just calling you pretty.

Dylan hardly holds in his laughter, walking into the kitchen before a full-on laugh escapes his throat. Steve stares off at him, glancing at Eddie and clearly asking, what the hell is wrong with that boy? Dylan makes himself calm down, coming back into the living room with a shit eating grin on his face. “So did he tell you how they met?”

“N-no.” Steve hesitates based on the grin on his face.

“He hasn’t let me get that far, yet.” Eddie chimes in, looking a little cozy as he settles into the couch. You were right, it has been a long ass day.

“I’m gonna tell him.” It wasn’t a threat per se, Dylan just wanted to watch the panic in his dad’s eyes.

Eddie lifts his head off the back pillow of the couch, having been looking up at the ceiling. “He’s gonna find out eventually. I was just gonna wait until she woke up.”

“Tell me…what?” Steve asks, tired of watching Eddie and Dylan’s back and forth.

Dylan gives one last chuckle, the laughter telling Eddie it’s not something he’s very bitter about anymore. They still haven’t talked about it; he’s been waiting for Dylan to come to him. “She was my girlfriend, first.” Dylan says through a smirk. “She cheated on me. With dad.”

Steve processes it, both Dylan and Eddie can see the hamster wheel turning in his head. He looks back and forth between Dylan and Eddie, his eyes staying on either one for a moment. His eyes don’t blink the entire time, switching back and forth for a solid minute.

“Dude!” Steve finally says, landing on Eddie. “What the fuck happened, Ed?”

Dylan continues laughing, walking over to his dad. “Yeah dad, what happened?”

Eddie lets his head fall back on the pillows again, closing his eyes for a brief second. “Well, I tried to keep my distance…she did not.” Shit, that’s putting all the blame on you. “I wasn’t strong enough to tell her to break up with Dylan, first. Felt like I was seventeen years old, hormones just raging to a point where I couldn’t think straight with her right there.” He gets up from the couch, walking up to his closest friend of 30+ years. “She’s not just some 25-year-old, Steve. This girl, Steve, she’s everything, and somehow, she’s convinced that she’s the lucky one.”

When his dad spews cheesy shit like this it certainly softens the blow. Feels funny that he ever dated you in the first place at times.

Steve seems to miss the fact that Dylan has gotten almost completely over it by now. “That’s all good and nice, but I think you’re missing the fact that you stole your son’s girlfriend?”

Dylan lets out another laugh, wishing Steve was here when everything went down. That would’ve been a show. “Listen, Uncle Steve. I appreciate you standing up for me, truly, I do. If you were here three weeks ago when they fucked in my truck, then that would’ve been…just great.”

“You fucked in his tru—”

Dylan cuts him off, “But honestly, I didn’t date her for very long. If anything, I had only begun to develop some deeper feelings for her, but these two had it right away. They’re good together. I wish they could’ve just told me their feelings and then slept together, but with Maya…if she was dating one of my boys I would’ve done the same thing.”

Steve’s hand lands on Dylan’s shoulder, seeing the truth in his statement. “Well, you’ll have to tell me about Maya, then.” He turns back to Eddie, a pinch appearing back between his brows. “But seriously, you fucked in his truck? What kind of sicko are you?”

“His was unlocked. He knows better.” Eddie shrugs, Steve rolls his eyes fondly.

“Good god, man.”

“I was actually just here to grab something, but I’ll see you for supper?” Dylan shoots, mid stride towards the stairs.

“We’re eating out, be back by 8:30.” Steve calls up, and Dylan waves his hand in acknowledgement.

“We are?” Eddie asks, sitting back on the couch.

“Oh yeah, Munson.” He sits on the cushion beside him, leaning onto his knees. “But tell me about her. Sorry I just assumed…but Robin will absolutely be calling you to rip your head off.”

“Or…she can find out in person one day.”

“Like at your wedding?” Steve teases, but lets out a burst of laughter when the blush appears on his cheeks. “Seriously, you hear wedding bells?”

“I’m not getting any younger, dude. But my hormones are, man, she has me doing multiple rounds, sometimes more than one a day!” Steve’s eyes widen, intrigued by this. “I haven’t fucked like this since my 20s.” Eddie pauses, thinking about his sex life back then. “I’m not even sure I fucked like this in my 20’s, to be honest.”

Steve lets out a laugh, shoving Eddie for good measure. Of course, being men, they both skip over the fact that yes, Eddie has had wedding bells in his head enough to start looking at rings…and go for the sex talk.

“Okay, sex aside. Tell me about her.”

It takes only five minutes of Steve listening to Eddie ramble on about you to realize it absolutely was the real deal. No mid-life crises here. Eddie seemed calm and laxed, whereas his ex always made him wired. For the record, Steve never quite liked her. She had Eddie looking like a wet chihuahua, yapping at every drop of a hat. Steve was a little relieved when she left, ‘cause no one could convince Eddie she was not good for him.

Turns out he just needed to wait a few years. 15, in fact.

You wake up to the feeling of Eddie’s hand on your cheek, carefully petting you as he places gentle kisses on your lips. “Baby.” He mumbles, causing you to stir. “Baby, wake up.”

As you start to wake up, you become increasingly aware that he was lying right behind you. “Mmm.”

“C’mon, we’re going out for supper with Steve, you have to get up.”

Still reeling from the dream that you were just ripped out of, you arch your back slightly, grinding your ass against Eddie’s instantly-hardening cock. You hear a sharp inhale, Eddie’s grip on your hip intensifying. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but we literally don’t have time.” Eddie comments, his forehead falling onto the back of your head in an act of self discipline.

You frown, giving a good hip swivel. “We always have time.”

“Not today, you don’t! Get up!” You pop awake, aware of Steve’s presence in the hallway as he overshadows Eddie, waking you up more fully.

“He knows me enough to know I’d try to sneak something in.” Eddie murmurs, as not to be heard.

You turn around in your bed, now lying face to face with him, a devious smile creeping on your face. “So, sneak something in.”

Eddie’s brows lift at your suggestive tone. “Fuck.” He mutters, crawling out of bed before you could give his neck one of those licks that just melts him into a puddle. “C’mon baby. Get all dressed up, meet you downstairs by 8:30.”

Your teeth grit together, grabbing your phone that was tossed haphazardly aside when you fell asleep. The screen illuminates itself and your eyes widen when you realize you only have…fifteen minutes to get ready. Well, why didn’t he just say that?

You rush into your closet, and for the first time, the amount of clothes you now own settles in. How the fuck are you ever getting ready ever again? You go to the dresses, skimming through the more family friendly options. You trail over each hanger one at a time until you reach the right one. Some light makeup is done, a five-minute routine.

You finally reach the bottom step at 8:29 pm, all the guys sitting on the couch watching the tv. “Ready!”

Eddie glances at you and breaks into a smirk. “You look great, sweetheart.”

Your face heats up as you find a pair of shoes that won’t make you hate yourself. You smile, recalling your afternoon in the crowded dressing room. “Thanks, Ed.”

Meanwhile, Steve takes only two seconds as he witnesses this interaction to realize. “No. Go change.”

“W-what?” You stutter, not used to Steve’s blunt stature.

“I-just-just go change. I don’t need to be watching this all night!”

“Fine.” You roll your eyes, kicking your shoe off to put on a dress that Eddie didn’t salivate over that very afternoon.

“Wait, what? What was wrong with the dress?” Dylan asks Steve, not having a clue as to what just transpired.

“Trust me, you don’t wanna know.”

“Hey, Dyl, you remember that green little dress that she had?” Eddie asks, recalling it on his carpeted floor earlier that day before he burned it.

Dylan smiles, then recalls what was so special about the dress. “Oh.” He mumbles, now feeling uncomfortable.

“I think she’s overwhelmed with choices, which is why she picked the dress in the first place. I’ll go help. Meet you there.”

Steve put up a fight on just meeting you there, but one on one time with his boy is something he wouldn’t pass up. Especially when he talks about a girl the way he did about Maya.

Eddie didn’t give Steve much of an option, still trying to get rid of the hard on that he had. He bursts through the bedroom and closet door, and as he does so, the front door slams shut. Eddie walks in to you staring aimlessly in your underwear at the dresses, not knowing which one to put on. Eddie comes from behind you, placing his stubbly chin onto your shoulder. “What’s up, baby?” He asks, casually drifting your underwear down your legs.

You sigh, the trail of his fingertips sending shivers up your spine. “You got me too many dresses.”

“No, I didn’t.” Eddie says, you hear and feel behind you as he lets his own pants drop. “Bend a little bit.” He whispers as you feel his hard cock against your ass.

You do, lifting your ass up at an angle where he can slide right into your folds. He does, arms drifting below your torso and up to play with your tits as he fucks you from behind.

“I got the perfect amount for my sweet baby.” He mutters into your ear, both his hands doing things to your tits that make you whimper. “Love to spoil my beautiful girl.”

“Fuck, daddy.” You whine, your heat already so goddamn hot. “Help. Can’t decide on a dress.”

“Here.” Ed pauses, causing you to whine, but puts a dress in front of you. “Wear this one for daddy.”

“O-ok.” You stutter, barely paying attention to it. “Love you, daddy.”

“I love you,” he kisses your neck, wet and sweet, “so much, pretty baby.” You turn your head to face him, leaning in for a delicate kiss, your pussy clenching around him as you do.

You lean onto the white walls separating each compartment of the closet, closing your eyes as he fucks into you. “Daddy,” you whine, and he pulls your hair gently in response, bringing your head back to his.

“Yes, baby?”

“You’re so good to me, I’m so-so close.” You pant, giving him lustful eyes.

“Cum with me,” Eddie mutters, having been close himself a few times. He leans down, rubbing at your clit. You cum around him hard, yelling his name.

He catches your lips in a kiss when he cums, so you have no idea what he said.

He lets you catch your breath, wrapping his arms around you protectively until you let him know you’re okay. “Thank you, baby.”

“Oh that was just a spur of the moment, I just got lucky.” He jokes, bringing up the dress to you to get redressed.

“You think Steve—”

“Oh, I guarantee Steve already knows.” Eddie interrupts your worry, that Steve knew you were hooking up. “Just had to be sneaky.”

You put yourself in the dress, staring at it in the mirror. Okay, Eddie is seriously good at picking things that fit you well. Damn. “Let’s go baby.”

“Fuck, with you in that dress I’ll be gunning for round two all night.”

“Then we better go so we can come back and do it!” You assert playfully.

“Fuck, I love you.”

As you and Eddie sit down at the table where your ice cubes are already melted with the water droplets making a pool on the table, Steve doesn’t say a word, but the look he gives says enough. If he’s your boyfriend’s best friend, how come he already has the ability to make you feel like you had disappointed him?

The restaurant is a steakhouse, something worth dressing up for, but not like the one Eddie took you to. Steve managed to talk about all his kids, describing each one of the four and their distinct personalities to you.

Arlo is apparently a near carbon copy of his father, only differing on a few personality quirks here and there. He was in every sense of the word the eldest Harrington, making a reputation for the Harrington children to live up to at the daycare, elementary school and finally, but most importantly, high school. Considering Steve raised his kids in Hawkins, Arlo knew the expectations for him and met them, tenfold. Steve never says it, but you can tell he’s so proud of how cool his kid turned out to be. Apparently, though they were closest in age, Dylan was closer to Nicky than to Arlo.

Nicky was the middle child for most of his life. He still considers himself to be, despite getting a younger sister four years ago. He had found himself gravitating towards the arts, and Steve found himself with a kid who spent his early mornings watching broadway bootlegs and collecting song books. This turned him into somewhat of a ladies’ man like Arlo, his baritone vibrato beautifully toned as he starred in most of his school musicals. Someday, Arlo wants to enroll in a drama school, and Steve still isn’t sure how he feels about it.

Dustin is the third child, and for a while, the baby. It’s explained to you that Dustin is named after a mutual friend, someone younger than both Eddie and Steve, someone they took under their wing and mutually adopted. When Dustin’s name was announced, Steve and his wife made sure he was in the room, so for the first hour of Dustin Harrington’s life, he was unnamed. Tears streamed down Dustin’s, (the original), face when he realized that Steve had named his child after him. Immediately, Dustin was his. Because of Dustin Henderson, Dustin Harrington is a complete dork. He’s completely invested in Star Wars, has built his own Magic the Gathering deck, used to spend weekends on Skype for DnD sessions with Uncle Eddie, and has even been to a convention or two.

Basically, none of his boys were the same.

You resented little Eliza coming up in conversation, only for the sake of her photos enticing some sick and cruel twist of fate.

Eliza, however, is the apple of everyone’s eye, and the darling of the Harrington family. She’s a handful, to say the least, a stubborn personality and even worse temperament. Steve swears he thought her toddler years were a handful; until she reached the independent thinking stage. Now, she wants everything, but she never wants help. Her three brothers are fiercely protective of her, each in their own ways, on top of having her dad, her uncle Eddie, and a few names that aren’t familiar to you (note: ask Eddie who ‘Hopper’ is), she’s got the world wrapped around her pinky.

Steve is at the end of a tale of chasing little Eliza around the mall, having slipped his grip in a quick getaway, creating havoc as she clutched a teddy bear that wasn’t paid for. He laughs fondly, describing how she evaded three security guards attempting to aid Steve in his mission, finally catching her when she was hungry enough to decide to end the chase.

You all sit with your food in front of you, chuckling at Steve’s well-told story. “Man,” Eddie starts, mouth still full. He waits until he swallows to continue, “I don’t know if I could have a toddler now. Especially if they’re as wild as Dylan was.”

“Hey!” Dylan calls, gesturing to himself. “I’m right here!”

“No offense, kid, but you were a menace. I looked away for two seconds once and found you on the roof with an umbrella to see if it would work as a parachute.”

“You remember what you told me?” Dylan challenges him, leaning onto his elbows on the table. “Hmm? You tell her what you told me.”

You perk up, leaning into Eddie. “Well, I came out and asked him what he was doing. He said he wanted to see if it worked.”

“And…you said?” Dylan asks, eager to get to the punchline.

“I told him to try it then and see how it works out for him!”

“So, I did!” Dylan exclaims, exasperated.

“What?” You exclaim, and the three men around you nod their heads solemnly, all having heard this story several times before.

“I didn’t know he was actually going to do it!” Eddie laughs, defending himself at your bug eyes aimed at him.

“You’re my dad, I trusted you had my best interests at heart!”

“How you didn’t know sarcasm before that is beyond me…” Eddie mutters, shaking his head fondly at his son. “That story was used against me several times in court, too.”

“They tried to make him out to be a terrible parent. I was pissed.” Dylan explains, and your heart melts over it. “I maintained that even though I had a cast for a few weeks, doesn’t mean I didn’t learn my lesson. Don’t jump off the roof. You will get hurt. That’s what my dad was telling me before he dared me.”

You intertwine your fingers with Eddie’s, smoothing his thumb with your own. There’s a nagging in the back of your mind as you recall his claims of being too old for a toddler, a slight disappointment. You shove it far, far back into your brain, not wanting to dissect that. “So, you staying the night, or?” You ask Steve.

“No thanks, Dylan has made it clear that you two are insatiable.” He says, toying with his food. “He has told me every story where he has caught you, even the ones you don’t know about.” He pauses, giving Eddie a resigned glance across the table. “Freaks. The both of you.”

Your phone buzzes on the table, and you reach for it momentarily to check out the text from Bethany. As your attention is stolen, Eddie mouths over you, Jealous? Steve spurts out a laugh, as if the idea is so absurd. Your head shoots up, Bethany’s text is fresh on your mind. “Baby, can…can I take a picture of your hand?”

“Uh, sure.” Eddie agrees, placing his hand out from your grip and onto the table. “What for?”

“For my Insta,” you answer, somewhat preoccupied by getting a good angle while making his hand intertwined with yours look natural.

“Oh, soft launch?” Dylan comments, and you snap your fingers in confirmation.

Eddie chuckles, all the words coming out of you and Dylan sounding like a different language. “What?”

“Okay, so it’s not just me!” Steve laughs, holding his chest dramatically. “Seriously, what are you two on about?”

Dylan answers before you can– you’re still trying to get a good angle of his hand holding yours on the table. “It’s posting an update to your relationship status without giving a name to the person. It’s telling the world you’re taken, but not by who. Usually in case they break up, but I don’t think it’s why she’s doing it.”

“No, Eddie has no social media and I know…” you pause, leaning back to take one more, “that he wants to keep it that way, so, I’m showing him off in my own way.” You glare at your phone, swearing softly when it still doesn’t look right.

“For fucks’ sake, let me,” Dylan snatches your phone and gets up from the booth, squats and places the phone as if you were the one taking it yourself, snaps a photo, and tosses the phone back to you. “There.”

The phone falls past your hand and into your lap. You gently pick it up, assessing the photo in your recents. Damn. It was the exact vibe you were looking for. “Well, thanks.”

Dylan shoots an eye roll back, his heart not really in it.

“Let’s see?” Eddie asks, leaning into you, resting his chin against the strap of your dress on your shoulder. You’ve already captioned and posted the photo onto your Instagram, so you let him view the screen. He lets out a chuckle, a wide grin appearing on his face. “I like the photo, but what does the caption mean? Greater than what?”

Caption reads, ‘Him>’.

“Oh, it just means you’re ‘greater than’ everything else. There is no one thing to put because it would be useless.” You explain, turning your phone off and placing it face down on the table.

Eddie shifts the two of you so he can see your face, eyes switching between yours as he assesses you. You look up at him, curious to what could possibly be on that brain of his. “You think I’m greater than everything else?”

Of course you’ve seen it plastered on social media sites, somewhat of a common way to refer to your personal opinion of something. It’s so normalized, and you figured it was a simple way to announce that you were taken by the finest man you’ve ever seen in your entire life. You nod, “Of course!”

His hand frames your face and suddenly his lips are on yours. Your breath hitches in your throat as the kiss and the pure love you feel in his reaction makes you feel like you’d be knocked off your feet if you weren’t already sitting down. Your limbs catch up and one hand lands on his thigh, ignoring the subtle heat you feel pooling in your cunt.

Steve and Dylan are forgotten as you get caught up in a frenzy, lips locking with a level of need for one another that would give any other person envy over the display of passion. Dylan has gotten used to it, you two were in the habit of kissing one another like this often. Steve takes a large sip of his bourbon, leaning back in his booth and leaning right to him. “So, this—”

“Yeah, that’s normal.” Dylan tells him.

“Jesus, I thought you were exaggerating.” Steve pauses, moving his plate away from him, all done. “Thought he was exaggerating.”

“Exaggerating what?” Dylan asks, afraid of the answer.

Steve smirks, taking another sip of his drink. “Just drink your apple juice.” He nods to Dylan’s beer; Dylan shoves his shoulder fondly in response. Steve takes one last big swig of his drink, gesturing to the waitress across the room for her assistance. “Hey. You two. Take a breather.”

Your kisses haven’t gotten any more intense, though his hand placed gently on your thigh was a tease. You could make out with him for hours, knowing your limits in the restaurant booth. Eddie finally pulls back, kissing you delicately a few times on the lips as to not leave you hanging, leaving you reeling when the server stops by.

“Just the check, please.” Steve tells her, smug.

The waitress nods, grabbing plates when the four of you insist you’re all done with your food. Steve and Eddie end up telling a story from their early 20’s when they were both single, finishing each other’s sentences as they remind each other how unruly they were back then. Your eyes flick back and forth between them, something clicking.

“Hmm.” You muster, letting yourself think about it.

“Yes, baby?”

You zone back in, blinking as you realize the three of them are staring at you expectantly. You hadn’t even realized you hummed out loud. “Oh, nothing.” But he’s not budging. None of them are. “Seriously, it’s nothing.”

Still no dice.

You lean forward towards Dylan, who sits across from you, lowering your voice. “Do you want to be traumatized by your dad’s sex life?” He shakes his head, the smile leaving his face. You lean back, satisfied. “Then don’t worry about it.”

“For the record, I think you mean more traumatized.” Dylan mutters, just loud enough for you to hear. You kick his shin underneath the table, light enough to hurt but not do anything. You giggle at his reaction, leaning into Eddie’s arm as it snakes around your own.

Your phone buzzes, another text from Bethany. You smile as you check it, content in Eddie’s arms as the waitress comes around again with the bill. Steve hands her a card as he watches Eddie speak softly to you, nothing important, just something causing you to giggle. He feels confident in his own marriage, a love that gave him four kids with a stable home to drive back to. It just made him happy to see Eddie in a relationship where it’s clearly reciprocated.

As Eddie whispers to you, you can barely take in the words Bethany has texted you, but what she has to say to you is seemingly important, your phone buzzing repeatedly in your hands. You allow your eyes to focus back on them and the all-caps of her texts become clear.

CHECK YOUR INSTA

HELLO???

BABE

HELLO

GO CHECK IT YOUR POST ALREADY HAS OVER 500 LIKES

BITCH IT’S AT ONE THOUSAND

HELLLLOOOO

“Oh, shit.” You switch apps to make sure it’s true. In your notifications, there are over 300 comments and more likes than Bethany had claimed, 1.5 thousand. By no means is it viral, but most of your posts got no more than 100 due to your circle of friends in the app being so small. “Holy shit.” There are several comments praising Eddie’s hand, even some drool emojis. The only solace you can give yourself is that you now know you are never exposing his face. “Um, Ed. Your hand has gotten attention.”

He leans over, seeing the amount of engagement on your post. “Cool.” He comments, the numbers not meaning much to him.

“I could’ve told you that much.” Steve laughs.

You peer at him questioningly, silently asking what he meant by it.

“Listen, the ladies in Hawkins are…what is it…thirsty?” He checks with Dylan. Dylan chuckles and confirms it. “Yeah, okay, thirsty. They are mad thirsty over Eddie. If I accidentally mention that the Munsons are coming into town, it becomes town gossip. It’s like Billy Hargrove all over again, except this time it’s age appropriate.”

You turn back to Eddie, serious as you can be. “You’re never going back.”

He laughs, wrapping his arms around you to bring you into a hug. “We’ll talk about it.”

As you walk towards the front door of the restaurant, the sun has set on another day. Eddie’s arm is wrapped around your shoulders, and Steve calls out to Eddie as he leads you to his truck, drawing your attentions. “Munson!”

Eddie turns around, the use of his last name certainly grabbing his attention. They quit using last names on one another years ago. The last time Eddie fully recalls being called Munson by Steve; Steve was pulling at his hair… “You rang, Harrington?”

“Can I steal your girlfriend for a drive?” He asks, sending a smile your way.

“Uh,” Eddie looks at you, making sure you’re comfortable with it. You nod your head, sharing a look with him. “Sure. Have her back within the hour, though.”

“Yes, sir.” Steve jokes, laughing to himself when Eddie subtly grits his teeth, and a pink blush reaches his cheeks. “C’mon, I don’t bite.”

You give your boyfriend a hug, embracing his kiss of safety and comfort. “Love you.” As you walk the steps toward Steve, Eddie tugs you back by your fingertips, one last kiss for good measure.

“Love you more.” He mutters, and for a second you believe him. Oh, to follow him into his truck and ride with him in a comfortable silence on the way back.

“Come on! One hour won’t kill you.” Steve grabs your hand before you can register, leading the way to his SUV.

Dylan passes you on the way to his dad, waving cheekily on the way and you flip him off.

You get into the dark blue SUV, a Range Rover, no less. It’s evident he has a four-year-old with the car seat and the mess in his back seat, but you know that if he didn’t have Eliza, the brown interior would’ve been spotless. Steve turns down the radio he had blasting, turning his iPhone connection on. “Ready for some oldies?”

“You and Eddie. Terrible, the both of you.” You mutter, shaking your head.

Steve laughs, pulling out of the parking lot and turning the opposite way of Eddie’s (yours too) house. “Don’t worry, just taking the long way.” He assures you after he sees you staring wistfully off at Eddie’s tail lights.

It’s about five minutes of silence until Steve talks again. “So, I just wanted to apologize about earlier, I was…I was shocked. When you opened the door, I didn’t know who you were, but I certainly wasn’t expecting the answer I got. Can you tell me your version of how you two got together? I didn’t want Eddie interjecting.”

“Oh.” You clear your throat. “Uh, Dylan forgot a parking pass on our way to the beach, so he stopped by the house to look for it. Eddie comes down, sweats low on his hips and hair still wet from his shower, and I could barely focus on anything else around me. I should’ve broken up with Dylan the moment I got to his truck.” You tell him, making sure Steve knows full well that you are still apologetic about the cheating.

“Oh sweetheart, that’s all fine and dandy. As far as Dylan is concerned, it hurt, but it’s long gone in his mind. Trust me. Any hesitation is aimed at Eddie, and for good reason.” Steve reassures you, feeling your defense build. “Don’t worry. Just tell the story.”

“Okay. I didn’t end it because I was afraid he’d lash out and it would’ve been forever before getting ahold of Eddie again. I couldn’t risk it, so I stayed. It lasted until that weekend, when I was doing horny things in the living room with Dylan just because Eddie was home. Maybe he’d hear something, maybe he’d look…maybe he’d watch…” You drift off, remembering the sheer urgency you had for him. “I wore skimpy outfits, I bent over around the house, I was fully prepared for Eddie, and to be honest, I was too hormonal to care or understand the repercussions.” You glance out the window, lights blinding you as you pass each neon sign. “So, we hooked up. After spending more time with him, I realized how much I had already cared about him. Now, Steve, now, I love that man so goddamn much.”

Steve smiles at you as he drives, his head waving with the bumps in the road. “Where do you see this going? For your future? In the long term, are you willing to accept that his body will give out a lot earlier than yours?”

A knot forms in your stomach in the shape of a confession. You switch your glance to Steve, and you feel safe with him. Not like Eddie, no. It was like he would never tell your secrets, or like he’d protect you. “Uh, this evening, I had the terrifying displeasure of realizing one day I’d want kids with him. One day, after he marries me and tells the whole world who I belong to, I want to have his baby. I want to raise a baby into a handful of a toddler into a snarky teenager. I thought I was totally in the clear for kids with him, but you showed him the video of Eliza and now it’s…I can’t get rid of it. So, thanks for that, Steve.” Admitting to this, out loud even…it’s too much. “I want to spend my life with him.”

You wait for an answer, somewhat on edge as you fiddle with your fingers. “And you’re okay with the knowledge that you will bury him one day?” Steve pressures on, and you respect it.

“I’ve accepted the realities, yes, which is why I’m not telling him I want kids. He said he’s too tired. I can’t force that on him.”

A full belly laugh escapes Steve as he shakes his head. “If you told him that you want a baby, he would absolutely give you one without a moment’s hesitation. I have never seen him like this, not even with his ex.” He pauses, thinking on how to tell you. “Listen, I don’t know if you know much about her, but Eddie’s ex was not all that…kind to him.” He chooses his words carefully. “He was into her from the get-go, but it was obvious he was more into her. Eventually, when Eddie realized she was cheating, he called me, panicking about losing Dylan.

“I sent my best lawyer to him. Less than a week later they have court dates for custody hearings. Honestly, she was angry she was caught and angry she wasn’t the one to file. I think it took her being angry and belligerent in court for Eddie to finally see who she was. The judge was patient, more than she should’ve been. When she didn’t listen to the judge’s warnings, Eddie was granted everything he wanted. He thought it was a goddamn miracle, the only two things he wanted were the shop and Dylan. The shop had people’s livelihoods; it was their only income. Dylan just wanted to be with his dad, he made that very clear.

“Once the dust settled, it sank in. He called, finally, crying on the floor of the closet. He had spent all year on it just for her to only have it for a handful of months. It was a labour of love for him, and it turned out she was sleeping with someone else the entire time.”

Your teeth grit, fucking seething for Eddie. If either Eddie or Steve knew what was good for her, they’d never tell you her name.

“I came immediately, bringing Arlo and Nick to help cheer him up. Nick was only about 2, so he would’ve done more cheering in the way that toddlers do. But even Arlo knew something was up so it’s the one and only time he’s ever played DnD and fully embraced it. When Nick went to bed, the four of us all played together.” Steve observes your body language, your jaw locked and fists clenched. You’re so angry for him. He decides to omit the fact that after the kids went to bed, Eddie was inconsolable in his heartbreak. Steve knows it might come out one day, but that was not the point of this discussion.

“I promise, I didn’t tell you to make you mad, I just need you to know that Eddie will love you selflessly and wholly, because he doesn’t have it in himself to love any other way.” He slows to a stop at a red light, turning his head to face you. “I was very worried at first, but man, I couldn’t have been more wrong.”

The question still echoes in your mind, but the answer is starting to lean towards a yes. “How did you guys become friends?” You ask instead, leaning away from your boyfriend’s heartbreak and his bitchy ex.

“That… is a very long story.”

“Eddie gave you an hour, of which you’ve only used 15 minutes.” You point out, smirking.

“Alright, buckle up. It’s Hawkins, Indiana. 1996. Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson is missing.”

Steve was right, the story of their friendship was a long one. He didn’t necessarily dive into the nitty gritty, just implied he was falsely accused in a situation where he had no alibi and helped him out. One day, years later you would finally feel comfortable asking and Eddie would get into the full details of the Upside Down.

Steve brought you home with ten minutes to spare, you cling to Eddie as soon as you see him. The unresolved lust from earlier on top of the empathy for how hard it must’ve been for him drove your need for him, just you and him. “Can’t wait any longer.” You whisper, fingers digging into the now open button up shirt he wore to dinner and fisting the material into a ball with your hands.

You feel a huff of silent laughter come from him, a long sigh leaving his lips as he considers his options. It’s only 11 o’clock. Usually, when Steve is in town he stays for hours into the night to talk and laugh together. Dylan started a habit of joining their conversations as he got older. He knows it’s what they’re expecting, and he knows exactly what you need. He lifts your face with his hands. “Go get dressed into something more comfortable. Be right up.”

You nod, feeling sleepy, and for once, not conscious of the audience you held with him.

As you run upstairs, Eddie turns to Steve. “You and Dylan go to your hotel room. I’ll meet you there. Later.”

Steve’s eyebrows raise. “Didn’t you say you were exhausted?”

“I could just stay home all night. I have no problems with that.” Eddie bites back, a tone of endearment at the root of it.

Steve rolls his eyes. “Okay, okay. God, I miss when you were single,”

Dylan and Steve leave for the hotel room, the two shooting teasing glances at Eddie.

You lay on your side of the bed, scrolling on your phone but only paying the littlest attention. Eddie opens the door, his long legs take him to the bed quickly as he lies right next to you. You immediately crawl into his arms, the phone forgotten. Your chest feels tight as you mentally go over what Steve told you, the way his ex treated him. There’s no way it was true, because Eddie ever feeling like he deserved any of it was too much for you to bear.

Eddie feels the shift in you, something’s different. It isn’t one of your normal hugs. Your arms are wrapped around his, as if you’re sheltering him. “You okay, baby?” He asks, brows furrowed as he notes your quickened breathing and heart rate. You’re lying down; you should be far more relaxed.

“Steve…Steve told me more about your ex, and it made me sick to my stomach.” You admit, not wanting many secrets between the two of you. You’re already harbouring one, you don’t need another. “I don’t know how anyone could possibly treat you like that.”

Eddie’s eyes well and he looks up, trying not to let a tear fall from the tone of your voice or how genuine you sound in your anger for him. “It’s ancient history, now, baby.”

“Doesn’t make it right.” You counter, hands squeezing him. “I love you more than I can even conceive. More than I can wrap my head around… I can’t stand the thought of you being heartbroken because that bitch decided someone building her a closet wasn’t good enough for her.”

Eddie can’t wrap his mind around how loved you just made him feel, and how in your own way, you just told him he would be just as protected as you are by him. You would stand up for him the same way he would for you. He doesn’t have the words or the strength to hold back the tears, so he leans in and kisses you, really kisses you.

As his lips meet yours, you taste the salt of his tears and lightly use your thumbs to brush them away. He climbs on top of you, brushing his hand under your PJ shirt, testing the waters. You guide his hand to your tit, aching for him to touch you for what felt like hours. Your kisses are slow and purposeful, the stream of the salt still coming, and you ignore it for the sake of his hand feeling so goddamn good on your nipple as he teases you. He doesn’t seem to want to talk about them, anyway. Your mouth opens against him as he flicks it, whimpering.

You wrap your legs around his hips, unwinding them from between his legs and his bulge presses into your covered heat immediately. You kiss down his jaw, gently decorating his neck with wet kisses as you kiss away the salt that streamed down his face. Your hand moves down to palm him through his slacks, a whimper leaving him. “Do…do you want to?” You check, slightly stroking him through his jeans.

He sniffles, bunching up your shirt to help it off. “Yes. Sorry, I can’t handle strong emotions, they…overwhelm me.”

“I’ll handle them for the both of us.” You offer.

Eddie is a mess already, and he tugs on you to kiss you some more. “I didn’t know I could love someone this much.” He mutters, gulping through his kisses.

You don’t answer him, grabbing at his shirt to take it off. As the shirt flies off, his chest comes full contact with yours and you arch your hips up to meet his, the bulge hitting your heat almost too perfectly. You grind on it, needing him now, wanting to feel all of him.

Eddie reads your mind, tearful but still in tune with everything your body needs from him. His hands move your pants down your legs, placing kisses down your torso as he does. He crawls back up to you, taking his own pants off as he continues to wantonly kiss you. Before you know it, you feel his cock against your thigh as he presses your legs into your stomach.

Eddie leans into you, connecting your foreheads. You frame his face, staring at his wet brown eyes. “Please baby.” You kiss him, your hips barely able to stay still. “I love you, I fucking need you.”

“I know.” He mumbles, nodding his head. He guides his cock into you, pushing in gently but deeply into you within seconds. Your legs tighten around his torso, your pussy sucking him in. “Christ.”

His face finds itself in your neck, giving sweet kisses up and down as he starts to move his hips. You hold onto him, hands wrapped around his torso, spread-out palms down on his back. His hips rock so slowly, taking in every inch of your pussy he possibly can. His forehead finds yours again and his eyes open and stare into yours. His mouth is parted, his cheeks are flushed, and no longer wet. Somewhere in the midst he stopped crying, but the emotions he felt were still there. “Feels good?”

You nod, breath hitching by the sheer emotion you see in his eyes. “So good, baby.”

He smiles softly, staring at you half lidded. “Don’t want it harder?” He teases, bucking his hips hard once before moving back to his soft pace.

The buck releases a loud cry of pleasure from you, not expecting it. “Fuck, Ed. Can you do that again?”

Eddie smiles wider. “Mmhm.” He bucks into you harder again a few times, and your eyes close immediately, the heat from your pussy starting to pool. “Oh my god, Eddie.”

“More?” He asks, slowing his hips again. “My love, if you want me to fuck you harder, you need to tell me.”

“Fuck me harder, Ed. Please.”

Eddie chuckles softly, stopping his movements altogether to give you a kiss, taking your breath away by the love in it. “Sure thing, baby.”

Before you know it, his hips start at an unforgiving pace, the force takes you aback so badly, you moan loudly at every buck, every rut of his hips against yours. His thumb connects to your neglected clit, and the subtle heat explodes into a frenzy. Eddie feels your velvet walls pulse around him as you get closer. “I wanna feel that perfect pussy cum all over my cock.”

“Eddie, so close…love you so much…” you’re seeing stars, your legs tense around him. He leans down to you, giving your torso one long lick down your tummy and, oddly enough, it was the final thing to drive you over the edge.

Your pussy tightening around him does it for Eddie, watching your face as your orgasm rips through you, filling you up with his cum, white ropes shooting into you. He collapses on your chest, the physical exhaustion from the day mixed with the added exhaustion from emotionally breaking down finally piling on him. “Sweetheart, I love you. So fucking much. I just…can’t believe how much better you’ve made my life.”

“I love you.” Your entire body wraps around him, holding him close to you. “Do you have to go?”

“Would you like to come with me?”

You nod your head, knowing full well you’ll probably fall asleep on the couch in Steve’s hotel room.

“Alright, let’s go.”

Eddie scratches his head while working on some paperwork in his work office, glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose as he goes through some numbers. One of the things he hates about owning a business is the math part of it. Luckily, he’s good at math, it’s just when the numbers suddenly go negative, it creates an issue.

His phone sitting on the desk starts to ring and he picks it up, expecting it to be you, but instead he’s met with an unknown number. Eddie sighs and reluctantly answers. It could be a customer with a new number for all he knows.

Wrong. Dead wrong.

“Eddie Munson speaking.” He answers, scanning over another invoice.

“Why the fuck are you dating a 25-year-old?” It occurs to Eddie this phone number has an area code from Boston…which is where she moved to. Fuck.

“Hi, Brooke.” He sighs, tired.

“Yeah, yeah. When and why the fuck are you dating some little hot piece of ass? You know she’s probably a gold digger, right? This morning she posted a selfie from my closet and it looks like she’s already moved in?”

“We met through a friend” Eddie wraps his head in his hands, wondering what the hell he ever saw in her craziness. “Wait, why am I telling you this, what fucking nerve do you have to call me and accuse my girlfriend being a gold digger?! How the fuck did you even find out?”

“Her little Instagram post with you two holding hands, which by the way, was cheesy and not in a good way. It got a lot of attention and Laura recognized your hands immediately and sent me the post.”

Fucking Laura. “Good for you, you found her Instagram.” He sighs, leaning back in his office chair. “I owe you nothing, Brooke. Nothing. I’m not sure what you had expected from this conversation but I’m sure this wasn’t it. Oh, and Brooke? That’s not your closet, hasn’t been for 15 years. Don’t call me again or I'll get my lawyer.”

“Oh, calm down.” Brooke huffs, her voice agitated. As if her voice had any other tone. Eddie hears her muffle the speaker to her phone. “Boys, quiet down for five minutes? I’m on the phone!” There’s another shuffle of noise on the other end, then her voice is directed back at Eddie, “That won’t be necessary. I just need to make sure you know that she will ruin your life because she’s a little skank.”

“Talk about my wife that way again and you’ll be hearing from a lot more than just my lawyer, you absolute cunt.” Eddie hangs up on her, missing the satisfaction of slamming a phone on the receiver. He picks his work phone up and slams it down. There, much better.

Wait until Steve hears about this… Holy shit.

Wait until you hear about it. Oh, fuck.

Steve manages to stretch his visit for one more day, laying on the couch with you as you watch a movie he recommended to you. He lays down with his torso on the arm rest, legs resting on your lap. When his legs landed, you glared at him, asking if he had nowhere else to place them. Steve said in response, “Of course, I do! You’ll just hold them because you’re so nice.”

So, you do. The movie is called The Gentlemen, a fast-paced comedy about a drug lord attempting to sell his business and all the shenanigans that follow. You find yourself laughing with him, expecting some movie like The Godfather or Fight Club, though it came out only four years ago.

Eddie swings open the door, rubbing his eyes tiredly with a smirk on his face. “Oh my god, Steve. Oh my god.” Eddie came straight from work, the phone call not allowing his brain to go over another invoice, especially when the numbers didn’t make sense. He struts to the couch, lifts Steve’s legs and sits right next to you, placing Steve’s legs back on his lap. He places his arm around you, looking at Steve with a smirk plastered. “Steve. Oh, my god.”

“Ed?” You ask, taking in his flustered features. Not flustered in the way you’re used to, but flustered nonetheless. “Everything okay?”

He nods his head, an incredulous laugh escaping as he does. “Oh, yeah. Totally okay. Got a phone call today.” You and Steve share a look of concern over his shoulder. “From Brooke.”

Now, this name means nothing to you. But from Steve’s reaction, in a split second you realize it’s the name of the woman you have grown to viscerally hate. “No way. What…what did she say?”

“She found Y/N’s Instagram post from last night and recognized my hand.” Eddie says, squeezing your shoulder. “She uh, then proceeded to insult me, insult her, and remind me how grateful I am she left me before I realized what a terrible person she is.”

“Anything else?” Steve asks, eyes wide. Brooke has literally been radio silent for years.

“Yeah, but nothing worth getting into.” Eddie comments, leaning into the couch, raising his eyebrows at Steve. Not something he wants to get into with you around, but definitely will with his best friend. “She sounded…jealous.”

“Jealous how?”

Eddie looks at you, twisting his body to face you. “Jealous of you. Out of line, absolutely, but jealous.”

The satisfaction that ripples through your body is simply too much. A woman took advantage of his kindness and left him for dead and now she’s jealous? Good. “Wait, she stalks my Instagram?”

“Uh, I suppose, yes.” Eddie answers, not so sure he understands the use of stalk.

“I could have some fun with this.” You mutter, thinking to yourself.

“Baby?” Eddie asks, slightly scared of the wicked smirk he sees displayed on your face.

“Hmm.” You mumble, opening your phone to your Pinterest app. “Yes?”

“What do you mean?” Eddie asks, talking low as he watches over your shoulder.

“Nothing. Just be ready for a picture when I need you.”

Eddie laughs, ready to calm you down a bit, but finds himself a little fearful of the plan in your mind.

You scroll through your Pinterest for about ten minutes while Steve and Eddie converse about the boys again. If you have learned one thing about Steve, it’s that his kids are his pride and joy. The conversation leads to Eliza, and you feel that pang in your stomach again. It’s getting harder to ignore as you watch Eddie’s face light up at the endless stories of the kids’ mischief.

Steve gets up from the couch, needing to use the bathroom. While he’s gone, you take advantage, finally having a moment to ask the question that’s been on your mind. “Hey, Ed.” You start, his head turning to face you, almost impossibly close.

“Yes, baby?”

Shit, his lips are so tempting. You sigh, ignoring the pull to his lips. “I just have a question, and please don’t be offended if the answer is no.”

Eddie huffs out a laugh, pleasantly surprised by your reaction to his ex-wife calling, so he’s certainly intrigued by what you’re about to say. “I make no promises.”

That’s not comforting. “Okay. Have you and Steve…did you guys ever hook up?” You ask, avoiding his eyes, which is impossible because they’re right there.

Eddie breaks into a smile followed by incredibly contagious laughter. You were certain you must’ve been dead wrong based on his laughter alone. You’re just reading into things that aren’t there. He finally stops, grabbing your face for a smiley, giggly kiss. You pull back, looking at him in confusion, as he laughs again. “I should’ve known you’d figure it out.” He says, eyes searching yours.

Oh, fuck. You were right! “Wait.” You say while giggling. “I…I was right?”

“Yeah.”

“When?!”

Eddie squints comically, looking up. “Uh, 27 or so years ago in Vegas.”

You squint back at the sheer cliché of it all. “Vegas? Really?”

“Well, we were both down on our luck, we thought, very drunkenly, might I add, a trip to Vegas would help. It certainly did the trick, I think.”

You laugh, the situation described much differently than what you had expected. “I bet it did.” You boop him on the nose as he scrunches it adorably.

Steve comes out from the bathroom and sees your silly display of love, jogging to the couch. “You guys are cavity inducing. Seriously.”

“Steve.” Eddie says, turning his head to face him. “She figured it out.”

Steve smirks, silently asking Eddie if he was talking about what Steve thought he was talking about. “Hmm?”

“Mmhmm.”

“No shit! What gave it away?” Steve asks, genuinely curious as he attempts to extend his legs onto Eddie’s lap again.

“No offense, you guys, but you both act like you have a secret with one another that you won’t share with the class. There’re only so many secrets that could be.” You offer an answer, and they seem to accept it…for the most part.

“What, we don’t give off two very straight dudes?” Eddie jokes, making you shove his shoulder.

“See, Dylan’s great, but I’ve been dying to ask since last night, and I wasn’t gonna ask with him around.”

Eddie chuckles, leaning in for one last gentle kiss. When he separates, he clutches onto Steve’s leg, startling him. “Sorry,” he laughs through his apology. “I have to take a shower then I have one more errand to run, and I need your help before you take off tonight.”

“Sure, dude. What do you need?”

You go back on your phone, checking your Pinterest and mostly tuning out the conversation, looking for subtle ways to show Eddie off on your Instagram that will piss Brooke off. Eddie nods his head to indicate it isn’t a conversation to be had around you, and you don’t even notice.

Steve nods in understanding, fist bumping Eddie as he runs around the couch and up the stairs. The silence that settles around you while he’s upstairs is comfortable, Steve paying attention to the movie as the plot thickens while you scroll through your phone and gather devious ideas. You barely notice the ten minutes pass by as Eddie comes back downstairs. You clock the scent of his freshly showered self, causing you to look up.

Eddie is wearing a pair of jeans and a button up loosely tucked in with a chain necklace. You pick your jaw off the floor, gulping as he walks up to you with a smirk on his face as he witnesses your very visible reaction. He lays a chaste kiss on your forehead and taps on Steve’s leg.

Steve gets up from the couch and Eddie grabs his keys. “Be back soon, baby!”

“Could you get some pop?” You ask him as he opens the front door.

“Baby, we have so much to drink that’s not gonna rot those pretty teeth. It won’t kill you to drink water.” He says, stopping in the doorway. You roll your eyes, tempted to order in from a convenience store if he was gonna be this stubborn. “If there’s pop here when I get home, you’re gonna see a consequence.”

“Yes, daddy.” You bite back. Well, if you order one drink and place it in the bottom of the recycling, he won’t see it, right?

“Hey. Drink some water. I mean it. Take care of yourself, for Christ’ sake.” He yells, hearing your eyes roll. “Love you!”

Eddie shuts the door, reminding himself to check the recycling when he gets home.

“Daddy, huh?” Steve asks, poking fun as they get into his truck.

“Yeah, yeah, shut up.” Eddie rolls his eyes, shoving the keys into the ignition. His hands move to put the vehicle in reverse when something occurs to him. “Shit.”

“What?”

“Uh, give me a sec.” Eddie brings out his phone, going through the 15 contacts, scrolls right to Maya. He rings it.

“…Hello?” Maya answers, sounding understandably perplexed.

“Hi, Maya, how would one know what kind of ring to get without asking the person it’s for?” Steve’s brows rais, the errand being ring shopping is news to him.

“Well… it depends. Do you want to buy her a ring just because…or are you shopping for,” she pauses, slowly saying it. If she was wrong, it could set off an alarm, “…an engagement ring?”

“Yeah, an engagement ring.” Eddie admits, saying it out loud feels crazy to him. “How would one figure that out?”

“Give me five minutes.” She says, and abruptly hangs up the phone.

As Eddie stares at his phone in bewilderment, Steve leans into him. “Engagement ring, huh?”

“Won’t be asking her until at least another few months, if I can even wait that long. I said something on the phone with Brooke today. It just came out.” Eddie offers, his voice soft as he explains to Steve what’s been invading his mind for the last hour. “Brooke went a bit far on the insults. She called her a skank.”

“How classy.” Steve offers dryly, his face suggesting it was anything but.

“I got so mad. I’ve never been as mad at her as I was when those words left her mouth. I said if she ever called my wife a name again, I would be calling more than just my lawyer.” He quotes himself, letting the word sink into Steve’s skin.

“Oh shit.” Steve mutters, the weight of the word kicking in.

“Yeah, it slipped out, but calling her my wife felt so damn good I couldn’t help myself. I’m not getting any younger.” Eddie pauses before saying anything else, the next confession might be too much to say out loud yet.

“C’mon. If you can’t tell me, who can you tell?” Steve says, giving him some comfort.

“Her eyes when she looks at pictures of Eliza, or listens to stories about your boys, fuck I thought I never wanted another kid, but Jesus Christ, I need to see her face when she looks at one of ours.” Eddie admits out loud for the first time, the words scaring the shit out of him. Dylan in his 20s was exhausting. Could he handle another newborn? Another toddler? Another teenager?

Steve felt like he held all the power in knowing you two both wanted a kid. Feels like neither of you are ready to tell the other, so it’s a secret he’ll have to keep to himself for now. (If he’s strong enough.)

Eddie’s phone buzzes, a link appearing in a message from Maya. He opens it up and it directs him to your Pinterest page. Eddie wonders how Maya even found it. Your name isn’t connected to it. The link is specific to a board labeled Engagement Rings with a bunch of sparkle emojis surrounding it. Eddie looks at a few of them, screenshotting a handful to get the basic idea of what you’d want. He texts back Maya to thank her and puts his truck in reverse before Steve even knows what’s happening.

Eddie and Steve go through at least three jewelry stores before Eddie angers Steve at his indecisiveness. It isn’t that Eddie is indecisive, it’s that he’s hoping for a jeweler to look at the general vibe of your board and have the perfect ring to offer. Instead, Eddie’s met with vague indications of where he could look. These interactions all leave Eddie feeling frustrated as just walks out of the store for the next one only about ten feet away.

It takes Eddie a few tries until he finds the fairy godmother he’s been looking for, but finally he shows an engagement ring specialist the general aura of the rings you had saved, and she brings out four or five options that fall into the same category for Eddie to look at. Maybe Eddie could’ve been clearer with other stores of what he needed, but it felt as if they didn’t think he was going to buy one, anyway. Here, in this store, he feels like a respected customer, which goes a long way with him. In his shop, he spends his extra time making sure his men don’t treat any ladies like they know less just because they’re women. He hoped that even though he had a few faded tattoos and dressed alternatively, he’d be extended that same courtesy.

The helpful sales lady holds up each ring and explains to Eddie why she picked it in relevance to the photos you saved. Eddie sighs, each one in the right field, but not quite there. As she puts rings away to keep on looking, Eddie clutches onto the glass in frustration, feeling completely unprepared. Brooke basically gave him her ring and told him to propose when he had the balls. He wants you to love this ring, he wants to see it and know that it was made for you.

Maybe that’s too much to place on a ring. But for Eddie, just the simple prospect of searching for this ring means he has the hope that you will be his for the rest of his life.

Just when he’s ready to leave for the next store, she brings another one, a look on her face that tells Eddie she might’ve found exactly what he’s been looking for. She lays it out on a cloth, as Eddie marvels at it. It’s a thin, silver ring with four blue stones lined up along the band as the metal crosses over itself like vines. Eddie knows all of the jewelry you wear is silver, dainty, and has a few hints of blue. From the moment he sees it, he knows it’s the One.

Eddie holds it up for a few moments, circling it around in his hand. It takes all the self control in the world not to just head home and propose that night. He hands over a ring he took from the center console in your closet to the sales lady for your size. Within ten minutes, the papers are signed, the ring paid for, and Eddie walks out with a small white bag.

They get into the truck, the white bag small, yet significant as it sits in the back seat. “Well, that’s a step you’re taking.” Steve observes, carefully assessing his best friend’s emotional state.

“Mmhmm.” Eddie hums, staring at the bag in the rearview mirror. “And now, I’m fighting the urge to propose tonight.”

“Tonight?” Steve asks him, the speed of your relationship knocking him in the gut. “Let’s not scare her off. Plan a nice meal, set out a pretty dress on the bed for her. I bet she’d appreciate that.” Eddie considers this, knowing Steve is probably right.

So, now the ring sits in its box in the bottom of Eddie’s underwear drawer.

When Eddie and Steve get home, they find you on the couch napping while a movie neither of them has heard of plays on the TV, a bottle of nearly empty coke on the table next to it. Eddie sneaks upstairs to hide the evidence, the bag shoved into the bottom of a trash can, and the ring tucked safely away. When he comes back down, Steve is in the kitchen making himself a snack for the road while Eddie crouches in front of the couch to wake you up.

“Morning, baby.” He says in a low voice, petting your left cheek with his thumb.

Your breath hitches as you wake up, the last thing you remember is being giddy as you picked up your order from the front step with chips, candy, and a single bottle of pop. As you finished most of your snack, the movie started to matter less and less, a phenomenon that only occurs when you know that you’re about to pass out on the couch.

“There she is.” He mumbles as your eyes take in your surroundings. Him, the end of the movie you picked out, and the setting sun through the curtains. “Hi. I see we didn’t take my concern for the amount of pop you consume to heart?” He musters, gesturing to the side table.

You stretch, every muscle in your extended limbs feeling it. “You made it pretty clear it was for my teeth.” You mumble, unable to prevent a smile at Eddie’s floored reaction.

“I see.” He mutters, and the smirk on his face is enough to send a thrill of fear through you. “C’mon, Steve is about to leave town. Let’s go say our goodbyes.”

He tugs on your hands, lifting you up off the couch, guiding you to where Steve’s packing a recyclable grocery store bag with snacks he found around the kitchen. He comes out of the kitchen clutching the bag, his brown eyes shooting a fond look to the both of you. “Sorry, guys. Gotta get to the actual purpose of my trip eventually.”

You squint at him, pretending to consider forgiving him. “I suppose we’ll forgive you. If… you bring Eliza next time.”

“Another one bites the dust.” Steve mutters under his breath, chuckling. Eliza Harrington really has the whole world wrapped around her little pinky. (And oh, boy, does she know it.) He grabs onto your shoulder, pulling you in close for a hug. “Take care of him, will ya?”

You nod into his bicep, the soft spot he had gained for you over the last two days taking you by surprise and vice versa for him. “You know I will.”

Steve can’t resist the joke. “Oh, I know you do.”

You hit him playfully, feeling the heat creep up on your cheeks.

Steve and Eddie share an even longer hug, something about saying goodbye to old friends is always hard, you know that. As they separate, still clutching each other, Steve says something under his breath that makes Eddie hit him harshly. “Steve.”

“What?”

“Dude. Subtlety?”

Steve chuckles as he picks up his bag of goodies. “If you two are one thing, it ain’t subtle.”

You’re left questioning what could’ve possibly warranted the reaction that Eddie let out as Steve and Eddie do a few more rounds of farewell. It never seems to end as they keep bringing up new topics with each step Steve makes toward the door. It reminds you of your mom at the grocery store when you were eight.

The door finally slams, Steve yelling an "I love you" while Eddie shouts “Yeah right!” He brings out his phone soon after, sending I love you, too to Steve as a text. Well, Eddie is realizing that a next time is never guaranteed.

The moment Steve’s SUV takes off, the low hum of the engine riding off to the end of the street, you turn back to the couch for a night in with Eddie. Alas, he has other plans. You lead him to the couch, holding his hand. Eddie tugs you back sharply, your limbs flailing as a result. “Woah, there, sweetheart.”

You give him a questioning look, wondering if you were just picturing his eyes darkening. “Hmm?”

“I asked you, very nicely, not to order pop. For one thing I think you drink too much of it, and for another there is water, juice, alcohol, even. Baby, I would just appreciate you taking my wishes into account.” His voice is serious, to a point that startles you. “So. As mentioned, there will be a consequence.”

“Like…like what?” You ask him, gulping as he traces his fingers along your collarbone so lightly you barely feel it.

He leans down, leaning into whisper, “Run.”

Your heart rate stutters as you turn away from him and run straight towards the basement, a place you know was once Dylan’s hangout spot, but now is just a dusty living room. Your feet trip over themselves as they run down the steps, pure panic and adrenaline coursing through your veins as you run to a guest room, hiding in the corner.

Upstairs, there are footsteps leading directly to the steps you just ran down. He fucking walks. He takes his time, step by step, and you can tell with each step as your heart rate picks up that he’s taunting you. He knows you’re in some corner somewhere, but he just doesn’t know which one. “Downstairs, huh? Didn’t see that coming.” Eddie admits, peering around each corner with his hands behind his back.

Fuck, you’re just a sitting duck here. You crawl up by the door, waiting patiently as he walks into the room right across from the one you’re hiding in. You make a quick run for the stairs, your breathing tight in your chest as you run, but for some reason, can’t recall why you’re running, you’re so fucking turned on right now. Your first few steps are loud and you curse out loud when suddenly Eddie’s feet are right behind yours, giggling with glee as you do.

Somehow, you make it up the steps and run straight to the kitchen, stopping at the island. He lands on the other side, his face hungry with want, his shirt untucked. There’s a wild look in his eye you can’t quite understand. You giggle as you attempt to go either way, realizing you’re stuck where you are.

“Oh, how is she gonna get out?” He taunts, watching you assess the situation.

Your instincts take over. You miraculously hop onto the island, using some sort of kicking method against the counter straight across and crawl into a dive for him, attacking his lips with yours. He accepts you without fail, wrapping his arms around you and kissing you back hungrily. You place kisses down his neck, focusing on the one spot on his collarbone you knew he loved when you sucked on it.

“Like that.” You answer him, starting to run straight towards your bedroom.

Laughter like music to Eddie’s ears leaves your mouth as you reach the top of the stairs, and he books it straight after you, not waiting another second to chase you to where he suspects is either the hallway or your closet. You’re crouched down in the hallway, hoping he’ll go straight to the bedroom. He doesn’t, seeing you as soon as he rounds the corner.

He fists your hair at the crown and you help as he lifts you to your feet. “Looks like I caught ya.” He hums, his face watching you closely. His hands let go of you and he moves to kiss you again, his tongue feeling a sort of rough it hasn’t before. “Holy shit.” He mutters, guiding you so you’re up against the wall.

You kiss him back, and for what felt like the first time, you didn’t spend an ounce thinking about it, just giving in. “Ed.” You whimper, the heat between your legs now begging you to provide friction.

“Hmm?” Eddie asks, his hands moving roughly up and down your body. “What, baby?”

“Ed. Please.” You beg him, lifting your leg so you can at least feel his boner peeking at your clothed cunt.

“Nuh uh.” He tuts, lightly pushing on the knee. Your leg falls down, as well as your face. “You don’t get off until I tell you to. So, unless I move your leg, or remove your shirt, you just let me kiss you and respond. Got it?”

You gulp, nodding your head. “Yes.” Eddie licks his lips, his eyes faltering for a fraction of a second. “Eddie?” You ask, making sure he’s okay.

Eddie loves that you can pick up on this, even as he gives you new rules and a new playground to explore. “Do you mind just…doing one thing for me? It kind of stuck with me since you moved in.”

“What?” You ask, your heat still aching, but for the sake of his sanity and for his good graces, you attempt to stand still. (You’re terrible at it.)

“Call me sir?”

You reflect on moving day, the men calling him the name that so obviously gave him a bad taste in his mouth. Apparently, when you commented on it, you made an impact. “Yes, sir.”

“Holy shit.” Eddie hisses, marveling at you now, staring up at him through your eyelashes, waiting to be told what to do. “Now, be a good girl and bend over against the wall.”

“Yes, sir.” You tell him, turning around against the wall.

“No, actually.” He says, taking you by the hand and taking you downstairs. He guides your hips so you’re right in front of the kitchen sink and he bends you over. “Much better.”

He moves your sweats and panties down only to the middle of your thighs, bending on his knees as he admires the slick that has already gathered. “So wet.” He murmurs. You whimper as he barely dips a finger into your entrance, gathering some slick on his finger. He lifts it up to your mouth, “Open.” You do so without hesitation, licking your tongue all over the three knuckles he places in your mouth, tasting your own arousal. Without warning, he takes his finger out from your mouth and wipes it on your shirt. You waited for the praise that never came.

“Oh, now brats get praise for doing what they’re told?” Eddie asks, knowing exactly what you’re thinking as he pulls down his pants.

“No, sir.” You mutter, now craving that praise even more.

“That’s what I thought. Now be a good girl and take this for me.” It’s the only warning you get before he slides his cock in. Your feet are practically planted right next to one another so you start to open your stance to allow him to go in deeper. “Ah.” You freeze in place, realizing your mistake.

He places his hand around your neck and brings it back to him, your neck extended feeling both incredibly uncomfortable and hot. “What did you do wrong?”

“Move without your say so.”

“Hmm?”

“Oh, move without your say so, sir.”

“Here. If you ask, and I say yes, or, if I tell you to. That’s it. Understood?”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

Eddie smiles down at your blown pupils and half open mouth. He was afraid he jumped in too deep and threw you into the bathwater, but he could feel your pussy tighten around him. You’re so into this. He gently kisses your forehead and lets go of your neck. He slides his cock in even more, and keep in mind, he hasn’t even started to fuck you, yet. He’s barely halfway in your pussy and holds onto your hips as he sees you start to squirm. “You need something baby?”

“Could you move please, sir? Just a little bit? Need it so bad.”

“Should’ve thought of that sooner, then baby.” He musters, sounding bored, though he’s anything but. “Here.” Without warning, Eddie moves his fingers against your clit and has you teetering the edge in mere minutes. You’re so close, you can see the edge. It’s right there.

He stops. He slides in a bit more into you as his mouth gets close to your ear, his breath giving you goosebumps. “Consequence.” He grunts out, his grip on your hips bruising.

Your knuckles are white as you hold onto the edge of the sink like a vice. It’s like you can taste it. He doesn’t move another inch, his heartbeat against your back and the only audible sound coming from you is your panting in need. Eddie pushes in the rest of his length and a second beautiful sound is added to the mix, one he couldn’t get enough of, even if he tried. Why would he ever try? The sound of your pussy as you gush around him is perfect. “Taking me so well.” Eddie mumbles as he places both of his hands over yours on the sink.

The whimper that leaves your throat forces its way out, your body is tense from doing everything you can not to swivel your hips or back yourself into him. “Baby, you’re so tense.” His arms flex along yours, a shaky sigh leaving your mouth. “Why, hmm?”

“You…you said not to move unless you say so.” You tell him, frustrated because, of course, he knows.

“Or, unless you ask to.” Eddie adds, his chin resting on that spot on your shoulder. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask.”

“Sir, can I please move my hips?” You ask him, hoping he isn’t teasing you again.

“Of course, baby.” Eddie’s tone is sweet and endearing. What a goddamn liar he is.

The words are like music to your ears as you start to move your hips, testing the waters. When your movement isn’t met with any punishment, you start moving more frantically, fucking yourself on his cock. Eddie lets out a sigh of content, hands raking down your back to your hips, the palms rough against your bare ass. “Sir, can I please move my feet?”

“See? My good girl is catching on. Of course you can, baby.” He answers, a smile lacing his voice.

Giddily, you move your feet further apart. “Sir, please…please take my clothes off?” You ask, waistband restricting your legs. “Wanna feel you.”

Eddie’s hands move down the apples of your ass to the sweats that started moving down your legs from the impact of your ass that had just started bouncing on him. He kisses your clothed back as you step out of them, kicking the garment aside. You feel the cotton of your shirt move up your back, your arms lifting over your head to assist Eddie as he takes it off. His lips touch the bare skin of your back, his tongue sending ripples down your spine as you shiver under his touch. Eddie grunts as you continue to swivel your hips against him.

“Fuck.” Eddie grunts, watching your naked form wither against him. He can no longer fight the incessant need that’s grown while waiting for you to ask him for movement. His hips start mercilessly pounding into you without a hint of a warning. The moans that fall from your throat are uninhibited and radically full of relief. “Is this what you’ve been waiting for, baby?”

“Mmhmm.” You nod your head, curling over the sink as your arms give out.

Eddie slows down and takes himself out, and your hand moves to push yourself off the sink the littlest bit when you realize your mistake. “You can move.” Eddie smirks, noting your obedience. He’s still standing with his pants down to his calves and his shirt disheveled. He steps out from his pants, tossing the pair toward your pile of clothes. Then he goes down each button on his shirt, slowly exposing his chest to you. As his fingers move over each one, you eye his chest hungrily, aware he’s watching your face while you watch him.

The shirt falls down his arms with a slight flop as the material hits the floor. “Sir…” you gulp, the two of you staring at one another. “Sir, can I kiss you?”

Eddie smirks, nodding his head. You take the two steps toward him and your legs wrap around his hips as you hungrily kiss each other. He turns toward the kitchen island, a small yelp leaving your mouth as the cold granite counter hits the warm flesh of your ass cheeks. He guides his cock into you, slowly pushing into your heat, watching your face as your eyes roll back. “Feel good?”

You nod, a laugh escaping your lips.

“What’s so funny, hmm?” Eddie asks, using his mouth and tongue against your neck.

“Good? Your cock is perfect, Ed.”

“What happened to sir, baby?” He asks, yet continues to rut into you. Your face falters, realizing your mistake. He lets out a laugh, pitying you.

He places his fingertips on your clit, circling slowly, making the heat that’s pooled in your stomach hotter and larger than you could even conceive. “That…that feels so good, Ed.” You tell him, letting your head fall back.

“God, I love when your tight pussy just-” he inhales through his teeth, “sucks me in… Feels like heaven.”

You giggle, the end of it cut off by a particularly rough thrust. “Heaven?” You gasp out, Eddie starts to move his fingers faster and matches the pace with his hips.

“If Heaven isn’t fucking this tight pussy all day, then I don’t fucking want it.” Eddie gasps back, a growl forming under his breath.

“Ed, I’m gonna—” the feeling overwhelms you, the edge muting your senses as your orgasm ripples through your body.

Eddie moans as you tighten more around him, a fix he figured impossible. He still rotates on your clit, you release two sharp exhales, the heat too hot, too much. “Too much, Ed.”

“You can do it, baby. I could just edge you more.” He mutters.

You giggle, frightened at the goddamn prospect of it. “No, no, no.”

“No? Well then show me. Let’s feel that pussy make a mess all over my cock.” You came from the words alone, giggles intertwined through your moans. “Oh fuck, good girl,”

“I’m so close, baby.” He moans.

“Gonna fill me up?” You ask him, your legs tight around his hips as you bite at his collar bone.

“Keep doing that.” Eddie begs you, and you happily oblige. Every nip, bite and suck at his collarbone had him gasping over you, the chain of his necklace hanging between you two. Your hands go into his hair, pulling at him and you could probably have a third one at the rate he was going at.

No probably about it, but Eddie’s panting and you’re exhausted.

Even then.

He pushes you down as he cums, your back screaming with cold as it hits the island counter. Eddie collapses on top of you, and you breathe heavily together, both catching your breath. His mouth latches on your neck, kissing a trail to your lips. “Oh, I love you.”

You smile into his kiss, your noodle legs falling from his hips. “I love you.” You find yourself wrapped in his arms, the smell of sweat and sex invades the kitchen. His chest is covered in sweat and there’s nothing better.

“Join me for a shower?” He asks after you two have a moment of silence, his fingers single handedly causing a brigade of goosebumps down your side as they move in a whisper over your skin. His other hand is wrapped on your left hand, and you don’t realize he’s unconsciously rubbing at your ring finger.

“If I can walk.” You giggle.

Eddie chuckles, pulling himself out of you and giving you a sleepy half smile. “I could always…” He begins, and then he scoops you up over his shoulder to take you up the stairs. You protest for the first minute of it, but when the view is his toned ass as he walks up the stairs, you really couldn’t complain.

Thank you so much for reading! I love to read your comments, replies, and reblogs. As always, reblogging is the best way to support your fic writers on tumblr.

Taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinncore @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you @names-were-taken

Taglist for Really Drives Me Mad: @yunnie-f1 @hollster88 @corrodedcoffincumslut @daisyridleyyyy @daniellabrandt @lail1010 @alicentswife @bl4ckt00thgr1n @ali-r3n @tlclick73 @vintagehellfire @hellfirefiend @kittydeadbones @luumunson @uncxmfxrtablex @eddiesgfffffffffff @hkurbsjundebi @eddies-puppet @joantje @novelnovella @shady-the-simp

(Okay the very idea that this many people wanted on the taglist is INSANE to me. If you want on it, just reply and I'll add you.)

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #older!eddie munson #older!eddie x reader #older eddie munson #older!eddie #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #older eddie munson x reader

540 notes · View notes

byunpum · 8 months

Text

I can be a better father | Part 5 (Ikran)

Pair: Tsu'tey x child-Grow up y/n

Warning: none, cute moments.

Note: Sorry for taking so long to answer the requests. I've had a lot of work these past few weeks, and I really haven't had much of a muse. And if I don't feel like writing, I'd better take a break so I can bring you more material. But still….thanks so much for the support!!!

Requests: (anon) Please could you make more chapters of tsu'tey and the children .. where y/n finds a dragon cub just like drogon. Also do one where spider gets an ikran even though he's human. PLEASE !!!

Avatar masterlist | Part 1, Part 2 , Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Tsu'tey placed the last piece of wood to his hut, tightening it tightly against the other pieces. Stepping back to observe his work, this would be enough to keep spider from falling out of the tree hut again. The man had spent all morning preparing a type of ladder so that his human-children would not fall. They were still too small to climb on the hard bark of the tree, well…they could, but he didn't want them to hurt their hands. His children's skin was delicate, he thought asking Jake for help and advice on what he should do would help and here he was…looking at his work. For a first time doing stairs they didn't look bad, or so he thought.

He sat for a while on the floor, resting. He had sent the kids to play with his half-siblings, neytiri would take care of them. And he would have some time off for himself, but all peace of mind was interrupted when he heard the voice of his little Y/N. Turning his head to see his cute baby with an ikran…newborn. Ikran were territorial creatures, so they didn't usually leave their young alone. But here was her little girl, holding the baby ikran in her tiny arms. Well what she could hold, the creature was much bigger than she was. But Y/N was holding it lovingly, walking swiftly towards her father.

"Sempuuuu, look what I found!!!!" shouts the child. Tsu'tey didn't know how to answer, his mouth was open. He had so many questions at this moment, how on earth had she taken that. Tsu'tey gets up from the ground, running towards her daughter. The creature screams, and moves into her daughter's arms.

"Baby…how? Where did you get? By my eywa" speaks tsu'tey trying to calm down, reaching out to touch the baby ikran. But the baby tries to bite him. While his little girl laughs out loud. "I found him….his mom went and left him. I'm going to be his new mommy" Y/N speaks, hugging the child more. The little girl's tiny body sways backwards trying to control her balance. "baby…we must return this baby to his family, we can't take care of him. He belongs with his family" tsu'tey tries to explain to her little daughter that the little ikran belongs with his own kind.

The little one's face turns to one of distress, pouting. By this time the creature had already cowered in Y/N's arms. "sempu…he is alone, we could take care of him…as you have taken care of me and spider" Y/N speaks, oh no those words have crushed tsu'tey's heart. He was weak when his little girl spoke to him this way. Tsu'tey sighs, he didn't want to hurt his daughter's feelings. He fixes Y/N's hair a bit, apparently she had been doing a lot of mischief the last few hours. Her hair was quite a mess, some loose braids and tangled bits of hair.

"Honey…he must be with his own species" tsu'tey starts to speak, but his daughter interrupts him. One of her small hands, touches his forearm. Her little eyes were teary. "But we are not of the same species and you are our father, right?" The little girl speaks, leaving her father speechless again. She was right, he had decided to adopt them and take care of them no matter where they were from. To tsu'tey they were his children, and always would be. Reaching over to give his little daughter a kiss on the hair. "He can stay" tsu'tey watches as her daughter begins to jump for joy, while the creature jumps with her. "but only until he can take care of himself" tsu'tey orders, the little girl accepts all excited. Hugging the baby ikran tightly. Tsu'tey had to admit that ikran babies were not something he was happy about, they were noisy and difficult to take care of.

It was very strange that he was alone, so he decided to investigate the whereabouts of the mother of this creature. And after a week of failing in his search, he proved his daughter absolutely right. Apparently the mother had left him, and she had no one to take care of him. The little ikran had one wing bigger than the other. It was not much of a difference, but this was surely the reason why he was left. Tsu'tey was happy to see how his daughter was taking care of the baby, sleeping with him. Hunting for the little ikran to eat. She looked so cute, with her little bow hunting any creature smaller than herself to give to her baby ikran. The bigger the creature grew, the stronger the bond Y/N had with her.

As the years went by…while other youngsters had to train an ikran, bond with them. And create a connection. Y/N was already flying the skies of Pandora, with taw. So she decided to name her ikran. A beautiful ikran, blue and pink in color. This surprised a lot of people, humans are not able to create bonds like the na'vi do. It created a lot of doubt and curiosity among the na'vi community, humans could have more feelings than they thought.

While the other boys were trying to bond with the ikran, even the sully boys. Y/n was calmly petting her ikran. Tsu'tey watched them curiously, himself wondering how this was possible. Watching as his daughter, hugged the creature, and the ikran closed her eyes with love and a calmness that seemed like something magical. As if the two of them were one and the same person. "You know…having that kind of bond…it's something unique and special" tsu'tey says, with some mockery in his tone. He was rubbing it in jakesully's face, that his daughter had gotten an ikran first and more effectively than his sons. Jake pouts, but laughs. "I remind you that she is my daughter too" jakesully speaks, laughing as he sees tsu'tey stand up straight. Pushing him a little, and walking away from jake.

Tsu'tey walks towards his daughter, touching her hair. The girl looks up, giving her father a big smile. "Sempu…taw is more beautiful every day, don't you think so?" the girl speaks, seeing how her daddy looks at her with such admiration and adoration. "You're amazing sweetie" tsu'tey says, seeing how his little girl giggles. And she answers him with a ' I know'. Sitting down together to watch the training of the others.

#avatar the way of water #avatar x y/n #avatar 2022 #avatar x reader #avatar x you #female y/n #human reader #human y/n #tsu'tey fic #tsu'tey x reader #tsu'tey x human reader #tsu'tey x human daugther #tsu'tey fanfiction #tsu'tey avatar #tsu'tey x y/n #jake sully #spider socorro #spider x reader #neteyam imagine

382 notes · View notes

akira-aah · 7 months

Text

The betrayal of red and green alliance is something that is really interesting to me

Like, Green managed to make an alliance with Red (the crazy cult-family team that dies more than anyone and barks at their enemies or even just because they felt like it) because neither of them want Blue (or more specifically Bad) to win because of their bloodthirstiness from the first days.

And it's kinda sad from Red's perspective.

Blue spawn camped them several times on days 1 and 4 so they will kill any member of Blue if given the chance but Green has been kind to them in comparison.

Red lowered their walls around Green members, around ElQuackity who is always trying to win no matter what but is not a genuine threat if you're decent at pvp and is easy to befriend, around Etoiles who will do what he has to do to win but fights with honor and accepts defeat with a "good fight", around Roier who could easily kill them but prefers to banter and have a good time.

Sure, the first few days were a blood bath, but when Jaiden kept getting killed upon respawning on day 4, Roier and Etoiles both went to check in on her. Upon getting there they probably expected her to be frustrated by dying so much but instead found her vibing and actively trying to litter her spawn with her corpses because she thought it would make it more intimidating.

Then Charlie showed up and Roier couldn't talk because he was sick but they started play fighting and Etoiles and Roier gave Jaiden and Charlie pvp training and then Cellbit got there and there was also an admin cat and Red died a lot that day but they had fun and they formed a tentative alliance with Green by trying their hardest to help Green get the win, they lost by a landslide and Blue ended up winning but they had fun.

Then on day 5 Green got their first win of the week and Red wasn't even that salty, Green deserved a win after all, but they would actually try to win on day 6, it's a competition after all and they can't make it too easy for Blue to catch up to them.

Red would rather Green win than Blue, but if Blue was last on the scoreboard or had few members active that day, Red would give it their all to win.

Red hadn't been there since the server opened unlike Blue, most of Red starts late, but they grind like crazy to make sure everyone has enough items to complete their tasks, Red shares everything after all, it's what makes them end up in first and second place when they're actually trying. They are constantly coordinating, constantly talking to each other, they are a family and no one is left behind if they can help it. Honesty and trust are very important to them.

The Red team is made up almost entirely out of roleplayers, but no one can deny that they're all hard workers, so they spend the day grinding the materials they need for the personal quests and the egg tasks and spend a good amount of their day trying and failing to do the hardest task of the day, kill Pac twice. They try and fail and try and fail and they give up to concentrate on fortifying their egg base, they're on first place after all, and Green somehow hasn't caught up to them despite having more team members active that day.

The sky turns red, almost like a sign that they already won, it's the last hour after all, they might not have gotten to kill Pac but Green didn't get their kill either so it doesn't matter.

Bad calls them and makes an offer that they don't take, he is their worst enemy after all, a spawn camper with no honor who bows down people who want an honest stick fight from afar. Bad tells them he has made the same offer to Green and that they didn't take it either, Etoiles is an honorable warrior and as much as he wants to win there's no honor in this, Red knows he won't take the deal even if Bad offers again, Green has as much beef with Bad as they do, so they're not worried even as Foolish gets a message that was most likely meant for Forever that implies they're meeting for something.

The same message shows up three times in quick succession, Forever has killed Bad and Green is now on first place. Green has made a deal with the devil.

Really, they should have seen this coming, you can't really trust anyone here. Their friends have betrayed them.

Except they haven't, not really. Two of their team members have gone behind the others backs to make this deal, Etoiles and Roier weren't told of it and they both like to play fair, they are winning and they don't like it, it's not fair to their Red friends who spent the entire day working just as hard as them to win. This is a cheap win, an underhanded tactic that they do not approve of, and they tell Foolish as time is running out. They can only hope their alliance with Red as a team has not been entirely ruined by this and that Foolish can explain to the rest of Red.

Foolish goes back to the Red call and tries to say something, but gets immediately sidetracked and forgets and starts helping with last minute preparations for the war tomorrow.

Red is salty, of course. Their hard work has gone to waste as they haven't won and haven't earned the immunity totem for their egg. They can't trust anyone outside of their team-cult-family.

They shouldn't have lowered their walls in the first place.

#qsmp #qsmp purgatory #team bolas #bolas rojas #this was all written by someone who almost exclusively watches red pov and gets information on the other teams from live blogging

345 notes · View notes

miraclewoozi · 3 months

Text

HIGH FIDELITY, PT 1. -c.hs

getting back on the horse is hard, and failing to hit it off with the cute gamer guy you went for a drink with last night has the potential to be your love life’s last straw. but when up and coming rockstar VERNON unexpectedly canters into your life, you find yourself asking one very important question: do you have it in you to saddle up, one more time?

pair ; vernon x fem!reader. content ; strangers to lovers. up-and-coming musician!vernon x record store owner!reader. fluff, angst, parts two and three will contain suggestive themes and smut. (MINORS DNI). warnings ; drinking + alcohol is a big theme pretty much throughout. mentions of past relationship breakdowns. reader experiences a lot of stress, anxiety and feelings of doubt, reflected in self sabotage. wc ; 13.5k ( ~35k total. ) disclaimer ; this fic was inspired by rob + liam in the series high fidelity and is therefore pretty influenced by the show. if you’ve watched it, you’ll probably see a lot of similarities! i just felt so drawn to vernon in this kind of role that i really wanted to try and put a spin on it. i do not claim that every idea behind this is original. notes ; been working on this one for a while. hope you enjoy it.<3

“What do you mean, no?”

Your best friend and longest standing employee Seungkwan turns his head away from the customer he’s serving to look at you with filth in his eyes. Unsurprisingly, his features don’t soften when you double down on your response to him.

“I mean, no,” you laugh. “I’m running on fumes, dude. I’m not going. No way.”

“But…” he whines, putting down the record in his hands. “No, come on. I told you about this weeks ago. You’re really gonna make me go on my own?”

“You won’t be on your own. Chan’s still going.”

Your younger friend, upon hearing his own name, whirls around from where he’s been rearranging the wall of cassettes and lifts an eyebrow. “Hmm?”

“You’re still going to that guy’s show tonight, right?”

“Are you kidding? Of course I am. Why?” Chan eyeballs your guilt-adjacent expression for a second before his face falls and he looks at Seungkwan with a curled lip. “What did you do? Why’s she not coming anymore?”

“I didn’t do anything!” Seungkwan barks. The customer he’s still not finished ringing up flinches at the lift in his voice, but he doesn’t notice. “Why is that always your first–”

“Shut up, don’t start this right n–”

“I’m not starting anything! You started–”

“Guys!” You interrupt, looking between the two of them and doing your best to smile apologetically at the poor lady fumbling through the cash in her fingers like it’s an Olympic sport. “Can we park this one? For five minutes? Please?”

The bickering pair fall quickly into silence and Chan sends one last glare at Seungkwan before he turns back to the cassettes, grumbling something under his breath.

With a clearing of his throat the only giveaway, Seungkwan drops seamlessly back into his customer service voice and plasters a charming smile onto his lips. He checks the register and warmly tells the young woman her total, holding out his palm for her to place the money into. Even knowing him as well as you do, the switch-up gives you a little bit of whiplash.

The customer passes over her cash and accepts her change from Seungkwan’s hands before making perhaps the swiftest exit you’ve ever seen anyone make. No sooner has the bell above the entry to OFF BEAT Vinyl rung and the door has clicked shut, the two men turn once again.

But not on each other.

On you. And it’s the more gentle of them that pipes up first.

“Why aren’t you coming?” Chan asks, abandoning his little project and hurrying over to the desk with a frown. You’re sure it’s supposed to look sympathetic to whatever issue it is that’s changed your mind, supposed to fool you into believing that this has nothing to do with him still blaming Seungkwan entirely. But… you know him better than that. You know them both better. If Chan and Seungkwan weren’t both employed by you, you don’t doubt that they would have ripped each other to shreds within the first hour of meeting. Their dynamic is fascinating to watch — one minute, the best of friends, the next just seconds away from throwing fists; you’ve lost count of the number of times you’ve had to send them to different rooms to avoid having to clean blood and tears off your shop (and sometimes your apartment) floor.

“I didn’t sleep so well last night, I just want to go to bed early. Is that… okay?”

(This is an embellishment of the truth, but what they don’t know can’t hurt them.)

“No,” they both exclaim at the same time, but Seungkwan goes one step further and slams his hands down on the counter for good measure. You purse your lips and narrow your eyes at him, but he keeps his palms flat and doesn’t give any indication that he’s about to apologise, so…

“Okay — God.” You turn away from them, heading towards the little office out the back of the store to try and get a few minutes’ respite. “Whatever. Fight with the wall, you guys – I’m not going. Check in with me before you head out, okay?”

Behind you, Seungkwan dramatically calls you a traitor and says he’ll never forgive you for this, but you just shake your head and continue on your way. The world falls into silence as you shut the door after yourself and you lean back against it, letting out a deep exhale and pinching the bridge of your nose.

Now, you did have an awful night’s sleep last night, and after how on-and-off busy the store has been all day today, the headache you woke up with this morning has only slowly gotten worse. But there are reasons for those things outside of what you’re going to admit to out in the main storefront. As close as the three of you are, there are some things that you’ve always thought it wise to keep… a little bit hushed. Especially at work.

When Chan and Seungkwan start an inquisition into your private life, it feels like it may never end. And so sue you, you’d actually like to make it home at a reasonable time, today.

True to your parting request, the two men close down the store for you while you sit out the back in your ‘office’, lights dimmed, pouring over both a new store playlist you’re trying to compile and a few less exciting — but actually important — tasks. Chan heads out first, all puppy-dog eyed when he pokes his head through the door and asking if you’re really not coming out. You shake your head, telling him to have fun and tell you all about it on Monday when he’s next penned in.

Seungkwan is slightly less easily brushed away. A few minutes after Chan says his final goodbye, your other employee slides into your office and shuts the door, sitting down in the armchair opposite you with his eyebrows scrunched together.

He doesn’t speak for almost a full thirty seconds, at which point, you look up at him from the small mountain of receipts you’re trying to organise and click your tongue.

“What?” you ask, leaning back in your own chair and crossing your arms. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You know why.” Seungkwan shifts forward on the cushion until he’s sat almost entirely on the edge of the seat. “You might think you’re really good at hiding your shit, okay? But you’re not. Not from me.”

“Please,” you sigh. “It’s nothing. I’m telling you, I’m just tired today.”

“And I’m telling you that I know you better than that. Come on, talk to me.”

This is, unfortunately, something you can’t deny. It also seems to be his unfailing last line of defence every single time you’re stubborn over discussing your problems. One of these days, you’ll be ready for it — you’ll have a response sitting on the tip of your tongue ready to shut the conversation down, and he’ll be the one on the spot, and you’ll treat yourself to a pint of ice cream or something when you get home as a victory snack. But today? Isn’t that day; Seungkwan stumps you, once again, so you groan in defeat, cradling your head in your hands.

“I went on a date last night,” you say under your breath.

“What?”

Clearing your throat, you look up at him. You say, louder, “I went on a date last night.”

His eyes blow wide and if he could get any closer to you without actually sitting on top of your coffee-stained worktop, you think he would. Which is strange, if you really let yourself think about it, because Seungkwan is sort of an ex-thing, and talking so openly to someone who has quite literally been inside you about going out with other people… shouldn’t come as easily as it does.

But that was quite some time ago, and for three long months, you drove each other nuts. The two of you are way better off as friends. (Whether you’re better as colleagues is still up for review.)

“You what?” he whisper-shouts. It feels almost like he’s hinting to an invisible audience that this piece of information is extremely scandalous: all wide-eyed and open-mouthed. Which would be fine, except it’s not really that scandalous at all, and neither should it be a surprise: you’re single, you have been for a while, and you have an entire sub-folder in your phone dedicated solely to dating apps — you’re at perfect liberty to go out with whoever you like. You just continue to stare at him, refusing to repeat yourself for a third time.

“You haven’t even been home, have you?” Seungkwan asks after letting the dust settle, the silence just on the brink of uncomfortable. “Oh my God. Tell me everything.”

“Shut up,” you groan. “His name’s Wonwoo. I met him on Hinge. And fuck you – yes, I went back to my own place.”

You pause for a second, taking a breath when his features cloud with the question he’s about to ask.

“It’s just-... so did he.”

Seungkwan leaps to his feet and claps loud enough that your already tender eardrums feel assaulted, adding an ‘I knew it!’ for good measure. You cringe at his volume, rubbing your temples – you should’ve known telling him this wouldn’t calm him down, but a small part of you was still hoping. This time, he actually does circle around the desk, carelessly shoving a few bits of paper out of his way before sitting on the newly cleared wood.

“Had you up all night, didn’t he?” Seungkwan asks. You shove his thigh, looking away from him, embarrassed. “What was the date?”

You just wish it was the kind of embarrassment that he thinks you’re feeling. Flustered, shy, giddy even. But it’s not any of those things.

“If I tell you, will you please turn it down a notch?” You ask, and Seungkwan nods, giddily kicking his legs over the side of the desk. With a sigh, you continue. “We just went for a drink. It wasn’t special, okay? It was bad. We had nothing to talk about, he was awkward, I didn’t even wanna be there – I took a bathroom break after like… a half hour, and I tried to bail but I’d left my phone on the table so I had to go back.”

“And how did that end up with him in your panties?” Seungkwan asks, thankfully a little quieter when he speaks this time.

“Do not talk about my panties out loud ever again,” you grunt, drumming your fingertips on the arm of your office chair. You give a dejected sigh as you answer him properly. “I guess… It felt like a sign that I was trying to give up too early. So I stayed a little longer, told him the truth about how I was feeling. I don’t know, maybe it took the pressure off or something? But we got talking a little more, we found some stuff we had in common… It just got easier and he started cracking a few jokes, so…”

“So… he laughed his way into your—?”

“He doesn’t drink alcohol,” you interject slowly, narrowing your eyes. “I asked him if he minded driving me home.”

“You devil,” Seungkwan grins, lightly prodding your calf with the side of his foot. “Was he good? Was it big?”

“Seungkwan!”

“Did he make you–”

“He was gone this morning when I woke up.”

Your friend doesn’t say ‘oh, shit’ out loud, but he doesn’t have to. The silence he suddenly falls into speaks for itself, his newly adopted slack-jawed expression the exclamation mark at the end of his unspoken sentence.

“Always the fucking ‘nice’ guys.” You push up from your desk and start to gather your things, shutting off your computer and grabbing your phone off the desk. You’re over it – you can deal with all this tomorrow.

Seungkwan hops down, biting the inside of his cheek as you pull your keys out of the pocket of your jeans. “Come with us tonight,” he tries one more time, laying a hand on your shoulder and sounding the kind of gentle that makes your skin itch. You swerve out from beneath his palm, shaking your head at him again. “Maybe it’ll take your mind off it.”

“I don’t need my mind taking off anything,” you insist softly. “I’m fine, I just don’t feel like going out. Gonna order in some food and get my ass to bed. Okay?”

Knowing he’s fighting a losing battle, your best friend finally stops pressing. He circles around you and flicks on the overnight alarm, letting you lead your way out of the office and then through the front of the store. He helps you pull the shutter down and tests the lock for you, as he so often does, before he holds both of his arms out in front of him. With a resigned roll of your eyes, you walk into his embrace for a couple of seconds.

“I’m okay, Seungkwan. Go without me. Have fun and let me know if this Vernon guy is any good, okay?”

“We’ll miss you,” he says as you pull away, and you clap him on the upper arm once before turning away, slipping your headphones on over your ears.

What you neglected to inform Seungkwan, even after allowing yourself those rare few moments of vulnerability, is who you bumped into on your way to the bar where you met Wonwoo last night. The encounter that set the tone in the first place. The reason you were so cold with the stranger who sat across from you in the booth, the reason you tried to bail, and two-thirds of the reason you’ve felt so damn out of it all day. That’s a story for another time, you tell yourself on your walk home. Maybe.

But… then again. Maybe not.

You’ve been marinating on your couch in a pair of sweatpants and a crisis hoodie for at least two hours and are currently on your second bowl of evening cereal when you hear a knock on your apartment door. You purse your lips and set the spoon back down inside the milky sludge, but you don’t set your ‘dinner’ to one side just yet. It’s probably just the old lady next door, asking if you’ve seen her cat, Houdini (you can’t help but feel like she was asking for trouble giving him a name like that) (in any case — no, you haven’t), or the middle-aged couple opposite asking you to turn your music down (you won’t) (it’s not even that loud).

You’re not getting up. All you have to do is wait for them to give up and away.

Knock, knock, knock.

They’ll leave.

Knock knock.

Any second, now.

…

Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock.

You groan loudly as you haul yourself to your feet and skid over to the door, crossing your arms tighter over your chest to try and shield you from the chill that always lingers in the hallway.

“I’m sorry, Mrs P, I haven’t seen H—” you start on exasperated autopilot, falling quiet the moment your eyes land first on Chan’s beaming smile, and second on Seungkwan’s guilty eyes. “How… the fuck did you guys get in here?”

“We followed someone in,” Chan tells you as he slides past, inviting himself into your haven and heading through to the living room where your favourite album is spinning on your record player. “That really tall guy – I think he lives on the second floor? Crazy hairline. Like, right back h—?”

“Cool,” you interrupt, except it’s actually everything but cool. Seungkwan steps through the door too, following behind you as you stalk after your younger friend. “Next question. Why are you guys in here?”

“You’ve been in a funk all day,” Chan says, tossing himself down onto your couch and nearly tipping your cereal all over the cushions. He eyes the glass you have on the side-table, raises a brow and looks back at you. “And you can’t deny that. You’re drinking rosè and eating fruit loops at 9pm on a Saturday. You need to get out of this apartment.”

“I don’t need to do anything,” you tell him, sitting down on the armchair to Chan’s left that only ever gets used when these two idiots show up at the same time.

“One hour?” Seungkwan tries again, crouching down in front of you and taking hold of your hand. “You don’t have to be out late. And – and I’ll open tomorrow. You can stay in bed as long as you want.”

“Do you guys ever stop?” You ask them, and in tandem, the two men shake their heads at you. “I’m staying here. You’ve gotta go, or you’re gonna be late.”

Chan whines your name loudly, stomping like an upset toddler. “You know it won’t be as fun without you.”

“It’s gonna have to be,” you shrug, picking your feet up off the floor and resting them on the coffee table. “Come on. I’m serious. Get out of here.”

Seungkwan watches you for a moment longer but when you eye him sternly, he stands up again, giving your hand a squeeze and sending a nod to tell Chan to get up and follow him. First taking a long sip from your wine glass, the younger man does as he’s instructed, concern etching a frown onto his lips as he walks towards the door.

“If you change your mind, you know where we are, okay?” Seungkwan says and you nod at him. “See you in the morning.”

The door clicks shut behind them and you feel your shoulders droop, a long sigh leaving your lungs now you’re finally back on your own again. You roll your head side-to-side, relieving a tiny bit of the tension that you’ve been holding up in your neck all day, before relaxing back against the cushions behind you.

I’m not going out tonight, you tell yourself as you try to time your breaths to the beat of your music, letting it drown out the fact that the young couple who live two doors down have started arguing just outside your front door. It’s not gonna happen.

There’s no way.

The chill of an ice-cold glass meets your palm not even an hour later.

Chan and Seungkwan had been sitting on the stairs outside your apartment building, giving you fifteen more minutes just in case you happened to change your mind. To your credit, neither man had expected you to get out of your quarter-life-crisis outfit. Each gave a whistle of approval as you stepped outside into the air in a nice pair of jeans and a cute, long-sleeved shirt.

You all set off in the direction to the Arrowhead (so-called thanks to the venue’s unconventional triangular room shape) and both of your friends managed to successfully paint a few smiles on your face along the way. Once inside, Seungkwan dragged you by the wrist up towards the main bar space. Before you even had time to process the blurred faces that you walked by and the fuzzy neon signs all the way up the stairwell, enthused cheers and applause from the room ahead and the melodic strumming of a guitar drowned out the dread you’d been feeling ever since you woke up.

“This guy is not covering U2,” Chan says almost incredulously as he thrusts the drink he paid for into your hand. You manage to work your way through the crowd a little: it’s busier in here than you’ve ever seen it before, and certainly way more full than you would have really expected, but there’s still just enough movement room.

“Yeah, he is,” you say as you weave your way into a decent spot, where you can actually see the musician whose logo has been plastered on every notice board around town for the past month and a half. You even end up with a bit of breathing space, which is a rare, but welcome, treat.

But whatever you were about to say next – about how you don’t like U2, and how you’ve never really forgiven them for putting their entire new album onto everybody’s iTunes back in 2014 – dies a magnificent death on your tongue. You pause with your drink halfway to your lips as your eyes land on the main attraction, the man up on the stage; he has a small band up there, too, but all the lights draw your focus to him. His eyes are sparkly. Both his hands are wrapped around the microphone like he’s caressing it, his rosy lips brush over the metal as they move with each word that comes out of his mouth. Watching him quickly becomes almost hypnotic.

So. This is Vernon.

Long, dark hair sits low over his temples, perfectly parted and shaped in the middle to frame his brows. The top few buttons of his emerald satin shirt are popped open, sleeves rolled up past his elbows, the hem half tucked into his black jeans. He has rings on almost every finger. A silver chain around his neck. He looks good, but his voice?

I think I hated this song ten minutes ago, you think to yourself, but there’s something about Vernon’s deep, rough-edged tone that has you considering never listening to anything else. If you could stand to look away from the way he cradles his mic, and the way one of his eyes squeezes tighter closed as he lifts up into a higher note, and the way he moves on the stage like he was born to be on one, you might notice your friends (and everyone else around you) equally entranced by this gorgeous rendition of Beautiful Day as yourself. You can’t, though, so you don’t.

You keep your attention locked on the singer and instead start to wonder just what he injected the air with when he stepped out from behind that curtain.

Vernon’s eyes flutter back open right as he hits the final line of the song, a smile spreading over his lips. You realise only now that you’re hardly breathing, nor blinking — your body doesn’t remember to function in the ways it needs to survive, too caught up being immersed all the way to the last beat. You think he looks right at you from up on the stage, you swear one of his eyebrows lifts and his features twist into a satisfied smirk. You’re certain, because for half a second it feels like the world tumbles into slow motion and it’s like he’s reading every single one of your secrets, scouring every corner of your mind.

And then… he looks away. He looks across the crowd applauding and cheering and whistling for him, before crouching low and taking a sip from the water bottle sitting on the floor beside his mic-stand. Only then does he speak.

“Risky opener, I know,” he chuckles, his speaking-voice deep and smooth and wholly entrancing. The room erupts into soft laughter, a series of whoops coming from the crowd, everyone disarmed by his slightly awkward charm; the singer’s cheeks turn rosy and a gummy smile lights up his face before he continues. “Thank you guys for giving it a chance, though. If you didn’t know… I’m Vernon—…”

You’re hooked on his every word as he starts to introduce himself and the band behind him — everyone is, but you don’t care about the people around you. Despite being shoulder-to-shoulder with your two best friends and with every breath inhaling the overpowering cologne of the guy standing right behind you, it feels, in a way, like you and the singer could be the only two people in the entire room.

The set lasts just over ninety minutes and is a carefully put-together mixture of mostly original songs and a couple of crowd-pleasing covers, a few slower ballad-types to offset the higher energy rock songs that he beams the whole way through. In-between, Vernon wins over the crowd with his dry sense of humour and a natural charisma that has you feeling mortifyingly warm, despite the fact that you know he isn’t speaking directly to you when he breaks to talk. You’ve been to more than your fair share of gigs in this venue over the years, but few performers have ever made one of their shows feel so genuinely intimate; by the time he says goodnight and heads off the stage, bidding everyone a safe journey home, it feels, in a weird way, like… you know him.

Most of the more local artists who play in the Arrowhead tend to hang around after their sets – sometimes they’ll have copies of EPs, others come with pins and badges showing off their logos, various cute freebies for people to take home. A few even just stand around in the bar and talk for a while, thanking people personally for coming, sharing information about their upcoming releases and future gig schedules. Unless you’ve been really blown away, this isn’t something the three of you often stick around for, though.

It’s therefore a bit of a surprise that when Vernon re-emerges some fifteen minutes later, you don’t even have to convince your friends to work your way into the crowd already starting to form. If anything, the look exchanged between you all establishes that wanting to praise this guy and say hello is very much mutual; the time that ticks by before you’re face-to-face with him really feels like no time at all.

The people in front of you move off to the side and you catch your first actual, unobstructed glimpse of him. He takes a sip from his glass and wipes his upper lip with the back of his hand before greeting you kindly. Somehow, he’s even more handsome up close. You really didn’t think it was possible.

“Amazing set, man,” Chan says brightly, doing little by way of snapping you out of your trance. “Super fresh.”

“Seriously. So, so good,” Seungkwan gushes.

Vernon pushes away from where he’s leaned against the bar, pulling his other hand out of his pocket and extending it to your friends in turn.

“Thank you so much,” he says. “Glad you guys liked it.” Another one of those easy, bright smiles spreads over his face. Maybe you entertain, for a second, that it grows a little more when he holds his hand out to you, too.

You’re still stunned into silence by how breathtaking he is, but you put your drink in the other hand and wipe the condensation off your palm on the side of your jeans before shaking his hand, as well. He’s really warm, maybe even a little clammy, but when he squeezes with his fingers and looks straight into your eyes, this becomes a very negligible detail.

“Your vibe really reminds me of someone… God, what was his name-...” Chan starts to babble, clicking his fingers at lightning speed as if it’ll help him remember. “He was on that survival show-...”

“We’re sorry about him,” Seungkwan interjects after a few more seconds of nonsense and half-spoken, incorrect names, lifting a hand and covering Chan’s mouth. “He gets a little… it’s just when he’s excited.”

“No I don’t,” Chan huffs, swatting Seungkwan’s hand away. You inhale deeply, trying not to cringe as you watch Vernon’s amused eyes bounce between your two friends like he’s watching a tennis match.

“Do too.”

“Do not.”

“Case in point—” Seungkwan starts, at which stage you lay one palm on each of their shoulders to try and get them to stop talking.

By some miracle, it works. At least, their mouths stop moving; there’s definitely a silent conversation ongoing in the filthy looks they continue to exchange, but they stop bickering aloud and that’s good enough for you, for now.

“Come on, let’s leave the poor guy alone,” you say, and Chan shoots Seungkwan a filthy look before he nods and takes a small step back from the altercation.

Vernon’s eyes glitter under the venue’s neon lighting, wide and focused on you while you do your best to mediate. You only notice this when you look back at him, by which point it’s far, far too late to stop the eruption of butterflies in the pit of your stomach.

“You’re really good,” you compliment finally, a smile tugging your mouth up on one side.

“Thank you.” Vernon grins, briefly dipping his head in your direction, but looking for a second as if he’s about to say something else. His chest rises with a breath, his lips push forward like they’re about to separate again, but before he can, Chan finds one more thing to come out with. Of course. (Seungkwan, regretfully, was right — he does get a little…)

“Do you like records?” he asks, pulling Vernon’s gaze away from you. The singer tilts his head, questioning. “Records. Vinyl – albums? Records.”

“Shit – yeah.” Vernon nods then. “Yeah, sorry. I um-... Sure. Yeah. Totally.”

“She owns a record store,” Chan says, jerking his head towards you. You feel your eyes blow wide and you’re tapping harshly at his back in an instant, begging him to stop. “OFF BEAT Vinyl. Not too far from here – it’s a cool spot.”

“No kidding?” Vernon says, glancing back in your direction, but you’re too busy silently pleading at Chan to shut up to realise.

“Mm. You should swing by, some time,” Seungkwan agrees, and all of a sudden, you’re overcome with the urge to fight him, too. “We all work there.”

“All right, let’s go,” you cough eventually, grabbing both men by the wrist and tugging. Vernon chuckles softly at the interruption; it’s almost as sweet a sound as his singing.

“OFF BEAT Vinyl,” he repeats, tasting the store’s name on his tongue, swirling it around his mouth like a wine he’s trying to savour. “For real. I’ll look it up.”

Chan grins proudly, finally letting himself be pulled away from the singer, and you manage to make exactly two paces before Vernon’s voice rings through your eardrums one more time.

“Hey, uh – what was your name?” he asks. It’s unmistakable who the question is aimed at (your friends don’t even entertain for a moment that he could be asking them), but regardless, it takes you a moment to let yourself believe he really wants to know. Vernon doesn’t push, though – he knows you heard him and he waits for your answer, leaning a little forward.

So, you look over your shoulder and you tell him. You see his lips move silently as he repeats it to himself, just like he did with the name of the store. He tastes it. Plays with it on his tongue, remembers the way it feels. As if it’s something he really intends to remember.

“Cool,” he breathes, pushing his hair back and off his forehead and making it very difficult to feel in any way rational. “Well – it’s great to meet you guys. Thanks for coming out, again.”

Finally, you manage to get your friends away. One of them, at least – Seungkwan decides that he actually wants to grab a few copies of his EP (‘one for me, a few for the store’) and rushes back towards the singer; you tell him to just meet you back at the bar.

Then, with another round of drinks on order, you turn to Chan and land a gentle thump on his bicep.

“Dude,” you groan, and he looks at you incredulously, rubbing his upper arm with a pout. “Why did you do that?”

“Do what?” Chan asks.

“Tell him about the store!”

“I mean – I didn’t think it was classified?” he says. “Shit’s slow right now, and he seems like the kind of guy to have a record collection. What’s the damage?”

Seungkwan appears behind you with his hands full of CDs, badges and a scrap of something that you’re reasonably sure is firstly, a napkin, and secondly, has been signed. So you rest your elbows on the bar and place your head in your hands, grumbling quietly about how you don’t know you’ve managed to survive this long knowing these two losers.

“Because you love us,” Seungkwan says, fastening a button to your t-shirt. “Stop trying to deny it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you sigh, accepting the drink from the bartender and taking a long sip. “God, you better have been serious about opening up for me, tomorrow.”

(Well. You have to give it to him: he was.)

“It’s just my opinion!”

From your perch on top of the store’s counter, you raise both of your palms in a display of your innocence. Chan stands in the middle of the R&B aisle, looking personally offended, fingers curled around the top of one of the wooden crates holding your stock.

“Me saying ‘I don’t think Welcome to the Black Parade is the best track on that album’ is not me saying that it’s a bad song.”

“But how can you say that?” Chan groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Who’s hearing the opening note to Famous Last Words and feeling the same way as they do with the Black Parade?”

“Most iconic doesn’t mean the best,” you counter. “Besides – I never said you weren’t allowed to have it as your favourite. It’d be a boring game if we all had the same answer.”

“I cannot cope with you anymore,” Chan whines. “You know what? No. I don’t even believe you. You’re just being a contrarian.”

“Why would I do that?” you ask.

“Because it’s the best song on the goddamn albu–”

The bell above the door chimes loud and clear through the store and both of your squabbling voices fall silent. Your head turns in the direction of the entrance, an autopilot greeting already forming on your lips, but you feel them fall slack the moment you realise who it is that’s just walked in.

It’s been five days. Though it would be a mistruth to claim you hadn’t thought about the singer since the night of his gig, it’s not one to say you didn’t think he would ever actually come into your place of work.

Much less at 3 o’clock in the afternoon. On a Thursday.

He pops his wrists as he walks a little further into the store, glancing around. Barring one of your regulars who walks about with his earphones in all the time, the store is completely empty; an adrenaline spike prickles the hairs on your arms, all the tiny muscles beneath your skin pulling them to stand upright.

“Hi,” he says once he deems himself to be close enough, stopping in his tracks and kicking the toe of his shoe against the floor.

“Hey,” you greet him in return.

“I’m-... Vernon. We met at the show, the other night?”

“Yeah — yeah, I remember you,” you smile. “I’m-... well. I’m still y/n.”

“Still y/n,” he says on a relieved exhale, grinning and glancing away from you. “I uh… I just had some free time. Thought I’d swing by and see what you guys had going on here.” Vernon adjusts the collar of his t-shirt, the silver of his rings glinting under the flickering yellow light overhead.

(It was definitely somewhere on your list of things to get fixed. Honest.)

“Sure, yeah,” you nod, swallowing hard and trying your best not to stare at him. It’s hard, though – in broad daylight, the way the flannel tied around his waist floats down over his hips and the way his jeans hug at his thighs is… you don't even have the words. “Let me know if you need help finding anything, okay?”

“I will.” He starts to thumb through one of the wooden boxes, offering a small smile your way. “Thank you.”

You’re holding your breath a little as he pulls a few 80’s rock albums out, his lips downturned in surprised approval at some of the records you carry. He holds onto a couple as he moves around the store and the entire time, you can feel Chan and Seungkwan staring at you. If there wasn’t a very real danger of Vernon looking your way again at a moment’s notice, you know you would be showing them your middle finger.

Really, they come away lucky.

“You don’t even know how long I’ve been trying to find some of these,” Vernon says after a few minutes, sauntering toward the desk – you’re still sitting on top of it, your legs swinging in the air beneath you. “Might have to make this my new stop.”

And displayed beside you on the counter – right by the cash register – are a few of his albums. The ones Seungkwan picked up after the show; until about two seconds ago, you had forgotten they were even there.

Vernon’s face lights up when he notices, turning to Seungkwan. “Come on, no way. I thought you were kidding about that.”

“Deadly serious,” Seungkwan laughs. Out of the corner of his eye, he must see you start to freeze up: he keeps talking instead of letting the silence settle. “It was on the speakers yesterday. Four people asked us about you.”

“For real?” Vernon asks. When all three of you nod your heads, you see the beginnings of a blush start to creep up his neck. “Wow. Thank you – um. That’s really cool of you guys.”

“It’s good music,” Chan shrugs. “You’re super talented.”

You’re not sure what it is about the onslaught of passive praise that gets so deep into Vernon’s head, but he doesn’t seem to know what to do with himself other than repeatedly saying ‘thank you’. Relief comes in the form of another customer jingling the bell above the door and drawing the attention away from him for a few moments.

“I’ll take these,” he says breathlessly as he turns to face you again. You find yourself a tiny bit lost in the warmth of his eyes and it takes you a second to remember to swivel around and slip off the other side of the countertop. You do, though. Eventually.

“Nice,” you say softly as you shuffle through them, ringing each one through. He’s got pretty decent taste, even if less than a week ago you were actively cringing at his choice of cover song. (It’s okay. That was before you knew better.) “Do you– need sleeves, or…?”

“I’m good. Thank you, though.” Vernon rests his hands against the edge of the counter and drums a quiet rhythm out with his thumbs as you tap away at the register. “Are-... you guys busy tonight, by the way?”

You look up from placing the records into a paper bag, glancing over to your colleagues who both rush to shake their heads. Vernon looks from them, to you, and you mirror their action. Even if I was, you start to think wistfully. I’d make time.

“I’m playing at the Orchid? Uh— it starts at eight thirty; I could get you guys on the list, if-... um…”

“That’d be awesome,” Chan says, nodding so hard you’re surprised his head doesn’t roll off his shoulders and start bouncing across the floor.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Seungkwan adds.

Vernon grins at them both, humming softly, before turning back to you and fumbling with his wallet to take out his card to pay for his purchases. You turn the machine around to face him; he hovers with his hand just above it.

“Maybe… I’ll see you tonight, too?” He says.

You can’t help the delight that rises inside you, as if it’s been injected straight into your bloodstream. It’s everywhere, all of a sudden. In your brain and your heart and your bones and in your lungs.

Yet, you somehow manage to keep your composure when you say, “yeah. Maybe you will.”

The payment goes through and you slide the bag over towards Vernon, your eyes never leaving his and his eyes never leaving yours. His fingers brush over yours as he takes it from you, the bite of the cold ring on his index finger a shocking contrast to the warmth the rest of his hand radiates. You hope your little gasp isn’t too audible, but… the way Chan whirls around to face away from the scene in front of him (presumably to poorly conceal his laughter), you know you haven’t gotten away with it.

“Cool,” he says, hesitating another second before finally pulling himself away. He bows his head in the direction of your friends, sending another of those irresistibly sweet smiles at you, and then he starts off towards the door. “See you, then.”

You feel your heart finally start to slow down as you grip the counter for dear life, setting out a long, drawn-out breath. What just happened? Why do you feel all… fuzzy?

“Maybe… I’ll see you tonight, too?” Chan asks in the deepest voice he can muster, snapping you out of your own head none too pleasantly. You turn in their direction as your other favourite moron feigns tucking hair behind his ear and flutters his eyelashes across at Chan.

“Yeah… Maybe you will.” And Seungkwan’s imitation of you is a little too accurate. Creepily so, and you want to curse him out for it. Instead, you scrunch up a bag to throw towards the pair of them, grinning despite yourself as they both swerve to dodge it.

“Oh my God, shut up,” you chastise them. You don’t have any bite, though, your brain still tingly and positively reeling and seeing Vernon’s dazzling smile every time you so much as blink. And when Seungkwan takes a running start and launches himself, full-force, into Chan’s unsuspecting arms? When Chan lifts him up and spins him around, and when they start making kissy-noises at each other between unearthly cackles?

You know that the next few hours are going to be the longest of your entire life.

The rest of the afternoon goes by without much disturbance and with evening plans now in place, you make the executive decision to send the boys home half an hour early. The three of you agree to meet outside The Orchid at just after eight o’clock, giving you all a chance to eat, wash up and change before the show; your friends separate and head in the different directions to the places they call home, making a promise to text your group chat before you leave to coordinate the link-up time. You head back into the office to finish tying up your loose ends and manage to depart just an hour later.

On your way to your apartment, you plan everything out to the minute in your head. You even allocate yourself twenty minutes to sit on the couch and decompress from your working day. So, when you settle down a little further into the cushions and put your head back, resting your eyes… when you tell yourself you’ll get up in just a minute and hop into the shower…

You certainly don’t expect to be woken up two and a half hours later as your phone vibrates on the floor of your living room.

With one eye still closed, you pick it up, yawning and stretching the lingering wisps of slumber from your body. Seungkwan’s contact name shows on your screen and you swipe to answer the call; on the other end of the line, a song you’ve never heard before is audible, but it’s accompanied by a voice you most definitely do know.

Everything snaps into place at once; in an instant, you’re wide awake, and you feel physically sick.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” you hiss into the speaker, scrabbling upright, tugging the phone away from your face to see the time. How is it already past 9pm?

“Oh, hello to you, too!” Seungkwan has to half-shout to be anywhere near audible over the music. You can almost perfectly visualise the way he’ll have sandwiched himself in a corner of the venue, pinching the bridge of his nose, head resting against the wall to try and block out enough sound to hear you. “Good to know you’re actually still alive!”

“Dude, I’m so sorry,” you say, rushing through to your bathroom to check if you can get away with leaving the house as you are. (Jury’s out, but you don’t have much of a choice.) “I… don’t know what happened. I fell asleep – I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

Seungkwan chides you again, this time reminding you that he’s been on your ass about going to a doctor to get your iron levels checked for months, that your timekeeping is terrible and that you really better hurry. You promise you’re on your way and hang up the call, pocketing your (horrifically under-charged) phone and slipping into a pair of sneakers you keep by the door before you head out. You told him you’d be here. Seungkwan’s voice rings loud and clear in your ears as you lock up your apartment.

But of course, bad things never happen in isolation. Waiting on the street outside your apartment block, you find yourself being cancelled on by not one, but two uber drivers: by the time the third reaches you, and has to follow the world’s most inconvenient diversion to get past some construction work, it’s 9:35. You know it doesn’t matter how quickly you run down the last stretch of the street and get up the seemingly never-ending staircase: it’s going to be too late.

You only manage to catch the literal last two songs of Vernon’s set. You’re not sure he even knows you’ve arrived, and in a way, you hope he doesn’t. Maybe having him believe you were a no-show is better than him knowing you’re about as low-functioning as a grown adult can be. You just slip in through the door as discreetly as you can and hover at the very back of the room as he rounds up for the night; Chan slips an arm around your shoulders as you turn to the bar and order yourself a drink, but it doesn’t do much to reduce the guilt that weighs heavy in your chest.

Which… is odd, really, you suppose. Seeing as you hardly know the singer much beyond his name and, now, a fraction of his record collection. Seeing as you certainly don’t owe him your presence at any of his performances. But there’s something in the way he made sure to ask you personally if you’d be able to make it, too, and you can’t shake it off, and… yeah, screw it, maybe you did want to be here. Maybe you did want him to notice. Maybe you do care what he thinks of you.

Maybe… you hope he feels the same about you.

Your drink hasn’t even arrived yet by the time you hear a chain of ‘excuse me – sorry, can I just? Yeah, thanks – sorry, excuse me’ -s behind you. Your eyes fly wide and you almost choke on your own spit at the sound, growing closer and closer, somehow audible over the background music floating through the speakers, over the other chattering voices and shrieks of laughter in every direction. Part of your breathlessness, admittedly, is to do with how immediately you just knew who that voice belonged to.

“Excuse m–” it sounds again.

And then, softer: “Hey.”

You turn around on your bar stool, barely managing to bite back a smile. “Hi.”

Vernon grins at you from a few feet away, a dark singlet hanging loose on his frame, showing off his long, lean arms, displaying the few bracelets he wears on one of his slender wrists. You’re staring – you know you are; you don’t even notice the fact that Chan takes several steps away from you, or how he throws a side-along glance toward Seungkwan, nor the fact that your two best friends start talking quietly among themselves, leaving you and Vernon almost alone.

“I’m so sorry, I don’t know how I managed to…” But Vernon’s already shaking his head, coming up beside you at the bar, settling into the seat on your left.

“Don’t worry about it,” he insists, glancing over at you where you’re sitting. “I’m just glad you’re here, now.”

Chan stumbles over to you somewhere around midnight and claps his hand down on your shoulder, interrupting Vernon’s very enthusiastic explanation as to why flying is totally a better superpower to want to have than invisibility. Your giggles fall silent and Vernon stops mid-flow, waiting to hear what your friend wants to speak to you about. Unfortunately, Chan’s words are barely intelligible; it’s only when a marginally-better-for-wear Seungkwan appears too a moment later that you’re able to make any sense of him.

“We’re gonna–” Seungkwan hiccups, covering his mouth with his hand and wincing, no doubt at the burn of everything he’s had to drink now sitting high in his throat. “Gonna head out. Are you coming? We’ll split a taxi with you.”

You find yourself glancing over to where Vernon is standing, propped against the pool table that you’re now leaning on the edge of. He just smiles back at you, lifting his shoulders.

“I think… I’m gonna stay here a little longer,” you say after chewing it over. “You guys go ahead.”

Seungkwan looks between the two of you and frowns slightly. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You nod. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Vernon gently pipes up from your side, sliding over a little so that his palm rests flat on the felt of the table, his forearm supporting your hips from behind. But it isn’t you he addresses, despite this butterfly-inducing contact. All deep and serious, he says, “I promise, she’s safe with me.”

He takes his time to show it on his face, but ultimately this satisfies Seungkwan, who (despite being just about able to support both his and Chan’s weight in his current condition) has before, and still will, ignore his body’s demands in the name of ensuring your safety. But maybe he sees a trustworthiness in Vernon, or maybe he knows that you can and do handle yourself quite well. Whatever it is, he’s happy with this development, and your two friends bundle you in a hug so tight that it squeezes the air out of your lungs before they make their way towards the exit.

Once they’re out of view, you turn back to Vernon again, raising both brows at the man now closer to you than he’s ever been. But it’s far from claustrophobic – not as these things can so often be. No. No.

It’s addictive.

“Oh you promise, huh?” The tease comes out before you can do anything about it. You even end up batting your lashes at him for good measure.

“Cross my heart,” he says with a small shrug of his shoulders. His eyes dip from where they’re boring into your own, glancing down a fraction, just for a moment, and you’re sure you see him start to lean. Drawn to you like an opposing magnet, like a moth to a flame — his breaths feel hotter as they fan against your skin, his cologne starts to smell a little stronger… then, his fingers on the other hand curl around the pool cue he’s been balancing on his side and he drags himself away from you. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not gonna kick your ass one more time.”

One more game of pool quickly turns to two, and it even threatens to become a third as you tease, again, that Vernon just got lucky and he flashes you another one of those looks that says ‘oh? Try me’. But as tempting as it is, you don’t think your pride can withstand any more losses. You resign yourself from the table with a huff when he rests his palms flat on the velvet covering, leaning towards you in that mouth-watering way he’s been doing for hours. The thing is, for the size of his pool-playing-ego, Vernon isn’t even that good. Not if you consider the number of completely missed shots, questionable connections and pocketed cues. But, because your own skill level leaves plenty to be desired, he doesn’t have to be up there with the big leagues.

He just needs to be a tiny bit better than you.

Asshole.

An announcement for last orders from behind the bar tells you that it’s nearing one in the morning as he starts to circle around the table and makes his way towards you. The bar has emptied considerably since you arrived, the music has steadily started getting more and more cheesy, people in all four corners of the room have started draping themselves over one another like well-dressed blankets, having already chosen the individuals they’ve decided to take home tonight. By all accounts, it’s the perfect time to leave. If you head out now, you’ll miss the rush of people flooding into the street and, if you’re lucky, the surge in taxi prices. The really good takeout place around the corner doesn’t close for another half hour, too.

There’s just one problem. You don’t want this night to end just yet.

“I think I’m gonna get some fresh air,” you say to Vernon, trying to stretch out a burning knot in your shoulder. “It’s like, a thousand degrees in here.”

Vernon nods. “Yeah – cool. I’ll come with you.”

And with your bag slung over the arm not causing you an ache, you start off down the stairwell. The doors are already open and the late night breeze has you feeling like you’re walking through the gates of heaven as you head outside. You inhale deeply, making the most of this very rare occasion of the city’s air not feeling thick with car fuel and cigarettes. Your eyes fall closed.

“I always liked being out at this time,” Vernon says as he joins you, leaning one shoulder against the brickwork of the outside of the bar. “Feels peaceful.”

“Sure,” you nod, craning your neck to look at him. His face is half-illuminated in the neon red of the bar’s sign above you. The harsh lighting and the shadows cast by his angular features have him looking… sort of sinful, in a weird artsy way that you can’t explain thanks to the pleasant buzzing in your brain. Straight out of an arthouse, indie movie. I bet he likes those, you think absently.

He looks straight into your eyes, intense and focussed as if he’s trying to search them, though for what you’re not sure. Honestly, you think if he gave a few more flutters of those beautiful lashes, you’d bend in-half-and-half-again to give him anything he wanted, so in a way you’re interested to ask what he’s thinking about. You don’t end up saying anything, though. There’s something wonderful in these little unspoken moments with Vernon. Something raw.

Something… unexplainable.

Sitting at the bar and stealing tickled glances as the waitress fumbles and drops a tray full of glasses on the floor. Subtle winks of his right eye (always, you’re discovering, the right?) from across a pool table when he succeeds in making a shot he has absolutely no business pulling off. Standing opposite you in the store you own, waiting to find out when – not if – he’s going to see you, again –

“You know,” he starts, the tiniest edge of nervousness in his voice for the first time tonight. Is the performance adrenaline finally wearing off? Is he… maybe starting to feel a little shy? Whatever it is, your last train of thought melts away into the drain just to his right, and you focus on him as he continues down this new path instead. “I got a new coffee machine in my apartment last weekend and I haven’t had the chance to use it for anyone yet.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah.” He nods, swallowing. “I uh…” He bounces one fist in the palm of his other hand, searching for the right order to put the words into. “I mean, it’s not like, one of those super fancy ones, or anything… but it’s sorta retro looking? Which is cool, and—”

“Vernon?”

“Yeah?”

“You‘re a little out of practice, huh?”

He chuckles on an outward breath, bowing his head, a grin that threatens to split his pretty face in two taking residence on his lips. “That obvious?”

“A tiny bit,” you say. “It’s cute though.”

He glances up at you, head a little tilted. “Yeah?”

“Mm… getting less-so by the second,” you tease him. “You can just ask me to come with you.”

“I-…” he starts, but he takes a deep breath instead and corrects his posture, as if it’ll prepare him somehow. “Okay. Okay — do you… maybe wanna come back to my place, with me?”

Not without flashing him a look first that says ‘now, was that so hard?’, you find yourself nodding up at him.

“I’d love to,” you say.

He pushes away from the wall and when you do the same, he falls into step, heading in the direction of his apartment. You try to discreetly roll your shoulder out again but it’s obviously not discrete enough; it draws his attention down to your arm, and he frowns slightly.

“Is that giving you trouble?” He asks.

“It’s fine.” You wave him off, stretching the muscle as best as you can by tilting your head as you walk. “It’s been like this for years.”

He scrunches his brows. “Here — can I?” He asks, his fingertip looping beneath the strap of your bag. You look down at your shoulder, then back up at him, before raising one brow, dropping the other.

“I mean — I don’t know if it’s your colour?”

Vernon barks out a ‘ha’, easily slipping your bag down your arm, the tips of his warm fingers brushing against your comparatively cool skin. You make no effort to stop him. He positions it on his own shoulder instead, the one furthest away from you so he can still walk right against your side.

“There’s a reason I wear all black, okay?” He says. “It makes everything my colour.”

His fingers smoothly slip between yours as he says it. It was quite the move, and for a second you’re impressed. At least, until it turns out that this simple action seems to jolt him back to his factory settings, because—

“I’m so serious about this coffee machine, by the way.”

“I know you are,” you laugh, bumping your weight against him and squeezing his hand. “I’m counting on it.”

“Okay, so,” you start, settling into Vernon’s couch and tucking one of your legs up beneath you. You cradle the mug of coffee he’s made you — admittedly, the retro-style machine was pretty cool — between both of your hands, a thumb brushing over the raised pattern on the ceramic. The fresh air from the walk here seems to have decently sobered you; barring a pleasant buzz, you feel almost like you haven’t drunk a thing. “How did you get into music?”

Vernon matches your posture play-for-play, biting the inside of his cheek before he answers. He drank less than you in the first place, but he seems steadier now, as well.

“Uh… a couple things, I guess,” he starts. “I mean, my parents are big into music. Sometimes they'd take me with them to shows and stuff, had a bunch of CD’s all over the house — all that. You know? I really grew up on it, so…"

You nod, tilting your head to gesture for him to continue.

“Then… I don’t know. There’s- okay, I was kind of a loser in high school,” he goes on. You roll your eyes; Vernon nudges your thigh with his knee playfully, shaking his head.

“I just mean, I didn’t have a lot of friends.” He pauses, pursing his lips. “So…, I mean, that’s— that’s whatever. The point is that I spent a lot of time on my own and I basically had an earphone in any time I thought I could get away with it, and–... and sometimes even if I couldn’t.” He chuckles. “Weird. Most of my teachers didn’t like me much either.”

You laugh too now, and Vernon bows his head a little; every single one of his handsome features brightens up and you don’t really know where to look. His never-ending lashes are so long they cast shadows down onto his cheeks, and the ambient lighting reflects off his eyes so beautifully that they look like they’re glimmering.

He goes on, “there was one, though. My bio teacher? She was really cool. She had a lot more time for me than the others did. And uh, she called me into her office after school one day and just said… basically, my options were to start giving a shit about… cells, and mitochon– whatever, or start really working for this great big thing that I spent all my time daydreaming about. And it’s been a little up and down, but…”

He trails off, shrugging on one side.

“I think you’re doing pretty okay,” you chime in, leaning one arm against the back of the couch and resting your head in your palm. “I bet those kids would lose their minds if they could see you now.”

“Oh?” Vernon asks, setting his coffee down on the side-table. You click your tongue at him.

“Don’t– come on.”

“No, seriously,” he laughs. “What do you mean?”

“I mean-…” you start, shaking your head. “Okay. People go out of their way to listen to you. Everyone who comes to one of your shows… that’s an hour, two hours, whatever – of making people feel exactly the way you want them to feel. They... all want to understand you. Right?”

Vernon just looks at you, forehead a tiny bit creased — the cogs in your brain tick away trying to find a better way to explain what you mean, but he finally speaks. (You’re glad, because you were struggling to come up with anything else.)

“Shit, I thought that was just an in to say you thought I was hot, or something.”

You push at his chest lightly, your palm lingering on his vest a moment longer than is, perhaps, strictly necessary.

“Shut up,” you groan. But a second later… “I guess there’s that, too.”

He sits back a little, pushing his hair off his forehead with a chuckle. “I dunno, I mean — I sort of… is it weird if I don’t really think about it that way?”

“Of course not,” you tell him.

He gets that look back on his face again; the pensive one, where he appears like he’s seconds away from saying something else, something important. But he falters, and when he glances back at you, his engine stalls.

Then, with a shake of his head, he says, “wow, okay, enough about me. I’m so sorry. Can I ask you a question?”

You take another sip of your coffee and set it down, too, nodding ‘yes’. To be honest, you were quite enjoying talking about him; at the same time, you know what it is to feel a little too perceived sometimes, so you let him move on without argument.

“How do you just… own a record store?”

You laugh. It’s been a while since you’ve had to explain this one. (When was the last time one of your dates was interested enough to ask?)

“I’m not as good a storyteller as you are,” you preface, mirroring him when he rolls his eyes, pretending not to notice that he shuffles even closer. You launch into it easily enough — the old store owner was a friend of the family, he let you work there while you were in college, took you on full-time after you dropped out. When his eyesight started deteriorating, he chose to retire and told you it was yours, if you wanted it.

“Place would’ve closed down, otherwise,” you shrug. “But I couldn’t do it on my own, so I brought the guys in to help. Two years later... yeah. I guess that's how.”

The whole time as you talk, his eyes don’t leave you. He’s quite expressive, you find — whether he’s lifting a perfectly shaped brow, nodding along to what you’re saying, smiling at you… you feel listened to. When he’s sat across from you, you feel heard; you feel known.

“Well, first — take it back. You’re a great storyteller,” he says. You feel your face grow warm and you nudge him with your knee, but you don’t argue — you aren’t convinced he’d let you win, anyway. “But that’s… really cool? Actually.”

“Oh yeah, I heard nine-to-five retail is the coolest thing you can do, these days,” you laugh.

Vernon scoffs at you. “You close at six thirty.”

(How on Earth does he remember that?)

To avoid thinking about it too much, and so you don’t have to try to navigate asking, you roll your eyes.

“You’re right,” you say to him. “That’s way better.”

“Do you like what you do?” He asks, and you tilt your head at him. “Well — okay. If you ignore the… boring, back-office stuff.”

“Yeah,” you say after a pause. “I guess I do.”

“Then it’s cool.”

Your coffees both go cold as you talk more, and more, and more — he asks about your life, and growing up, your friends, and he answers all of your questions in turn when you ask them. He has an interesting way of talking about himself outside of his job; it’s not so much that you have to pry for information, but he’s not super forthcoming. It’s as if he’s taking all of your questions at face value, like he doesn’t know how to go about expanding on them.

Maybe he’s just more of a listener, you contemplate once he turns yet another of your questions back on you and you teasingly pull him up on it. It flusters him, which you can’t help but find very endearing.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry — I just… you have such a pretty… voice?” he confesses, rubbing the back of his neck, ears burning pink.

“Oh?” You ask, stumped for a moment as your heart lurches in your chest. When he nods, you find the gall from somewhere to say, “takes one to know one.”

(You’re not sure how.)

And on it goes. On, and on, and on. More questions, more answers, more lighthearted shoves and lingering touches and shy glances away from each others’ scorching gazes as heat rushes to your cheeks. He even shows you his record collection and puts on one of his favourite albums for background noise before you settle back into the couch. It’s so natural, even when the vinyl runs to the end and the only noise from the player is a distant crackle. Being in his space and having mindless conversation after mindless conversation feels almost as comfortable as being in your own home.

You notice something, as you’re rounding off a monologue about why your highschool math teacher was the worst person you’d ever met. A tiny hair on the apple of his cheek. One of those lashes you envy so much. Even as you try to focus back on your closing remarks, your eyes keep dropping to it and you trail off into silence a few words short.

“I’m sorry, you’ve-… got an eyelash,” you say, tapping roughly the same spot on your own cheek.

“Mm. I have a few of them,” Vernon counters, wiping the heel of his thumb against his skin. He misses, though, and drops his arm back down with the lash still stuck to his face.

You move before you can stop yourself, hand lifting up to his face and hovering just a few centimetres away.

“Can I?” you ask.

Vernon nods, wordlessly. He goes cross-eyed and his lids twitch in a flutter as he watches you get closer; you brush the lash onto your thumb and he only breathes again when you rebalance it on the tip of your finger. You hold it up to him, settling back into your own part of the couch; he just stares back at you.

“Make a wish,” you prompt.

His confusion is poorly concealed, head cocked to one side as he looks from the lash to you and back again. “Huh?”

“Don’t you…?”

He shakes his head.

“Okay, wow,” you laugh, glancing down at your finger too. “You have to make a wish on your eyelashes when they fall out.”

“No, I got that part,” Vernon snickers. “I just mean — why?”

“I—” you start to explain, but you fall short of an explanation and frown instead, biting the inside of your cheek. “… I don’t know. It’s just what you’re supposed to do. I’ve always done it.”

The downturn of your lips doesn’t last very long, though.

“Well, what if it’s not an eyelash? What if it’s like… one of my eyebrows, or something?” He asks.

It's such a simple but off-the-wall response that you can't help but laugh, except it comes on so suddenly you start to choke on your own saliva. One of his hands circles around you and rubs soothingly between your shoulder blades as you cough, succeeding in bringing him even closer and failing to lower the fever you’re starting to feel creep up on you. By some miracle, you don’t drop the lash, even as you hack pathetically into the crook of your elbow; Vernon waits for it to subside, a weirdly fond look on his face all the while.

Now, when you turn your head, he’s right there. In your space. His arm still around your back, the glint of the bar pierced through his brow drawing your attention up away from those smiling lips.

“I guess it just doesn’t come true? I don’t know,” you say, shaking your head. “I’ve never tried wishing on an eyebrow before.”

“I’m just saying,” he starts, falling back against the cushions now he knows you’re not suffocating. His arm doesn’t move, though. If anything, he sort of pulls you with him. “What if it ends up like a reverse wish. Whatever I ask for, the opposite comes true, or something.”

“If you don’t want it, I’ll take it,” you say, starting to bring your finger closer to yourself.

Quicker than you can blink, he reaches to you and lightly lays his fingers around your wrist, stopping you in your path.

“Wait,” he says, pouting a little. “I didn’t say that.”

Both of you glance down to this new point of contact. Two sets of lips stay parted but two identical breaths remain held, burning in both your lungs and in Vernon’s. His gaze shifts back up to your face, eyes wide and wholly serious and unblinking.

“What do I do?” He asks on the eventual exhale. It reminds you to breathe again, too.

“Close your eyes.”

It takes him a second to obey, but he does. His eyes flutter closed and you clear your throat, lifting your finger until it’s just in front of his face.

“Make a wish.”

A few seconds later, his brows relax and he nods.

“Then… blow.”

His lips purse and he pushes a breath through them, lifting the stray lash off your skin and sending it out into the room. He opens his eyes, then, smiling in a manner that you can tell is absolutely despite himself.

He doesn’t move away, and his cologne, fresh and citrusy, mixes tantalisingly with the sandalwood candle he lit on your way back to the couch a little while ago, both accented by the chewing gum he popped to get rid of the mocha aftertaste still lingering on his breath.

“What did you wish for?” You ask, dropping your hand back down to your side.

He frowns.

“I don’t think I’m supposed to tell you,” he says. “Pretty sure that’s against like… wish laws, or something.”

“Boring,” you chide, slumping your shoulders, but he just grins at you, darting his tongue out over his lips.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see his Adam’s apple bob in a thick swallow and you can feel the gentle brushing of his thumb. The slow movements, up and down over the exposed area on your hip where your shirt has started to ride up, make you shiver, and you know your chest stutters when his fingers move to press wholly against your bare skin. You know he notices, because he does it again. And again, and again.

It's maddening. You end up stuck in this never-ending feeling of falling head-first into his arms.

“Where do you think the laws stand on showing you, though?” He asks, inching a little closer.

You hold your breath, little more than anticipatory static flooding your brain.

“I think they’re okay with it.”

You mirror, slowly, hooked in the gaze that has adrenaline dripping down the length of your spine like honey, and you can’t bring yourself to look away until you can practically taste him. He closes the space between you in half speed, but gently, like you’re both made of tissue, he brings his thumb and forefinger to your chin and touches his lips to yours. His nose presses against your cheek.

It’s comfortable. It’s warm. It’s easy, it’s exhilarating, it’s perfect. You feel like your heart just might burst clean out of your chest—

But… you can’t.

“I’m so sorry,” you gasp, tugging yourself away and clamping your hands over your mouth. “Shit — I’m-… I’m sorry.”

Out of nowhere, you’re fighting to catch a breath, head spinning in circles, and no longer in the good way. Have those beers finally come back to bite you in the ass? Or, deeper down, do you know your sudden intoxication isn’t alcohol related at all? Vernon shoots back from you like you’ve gone up in flames and he might catch, too — his eyes search your face as you scramble to get to your feet, and he looks… scared.

“Are you okay?” He asks. You don’t respond right away, already looking around the apartment for where you left your shoes, already trying to locate your bag too. (As you try to swim towards the surface, you forget that it wasn’t you who still had hold of it when you came through the door and placed it on the loveseat back in the living room.) “Hey… is everything-…?”

“I’m fine,” you interrupt. You’re not. “I just-… I remembered-… I have to go.”

You catch sight of your shoes, hidden behind the ones Vernon kicked off just after you, and you hurry across the apartment to get to them.

No bag. Where’s your bag? Where did you leave it? But… ah, your keys are in one back pocket and your phone is in the other and maybe it’s not the end of the world if you never see that lipstick again—

“It’s really late,” Vernon says as you bend down to re-tie one of your laces, hovering just a few steps behind you. “Are you gonna be okay to get home?”

“I’ll be fine,” you rush. “I’ll get a cab.”

“Well, at least let me wait with you until it—”

“I said I’m fine,” you insist, you snap, only now looking up at him again. He tenses, but his eyes stay soft. It’s not in the same way you’ve seen them all night, though. Not in a nice way. Not glittering and full of intrigue. No. He’s hurt. And like a wounded animal, he takes several stiff, unsure steps back away from you, swallowing hard and looking anywhere, everywhere else.

“I’m fine,” you say again, trying to sound a little quieter, a little calmer. Even if that is miles away from the truth.

“Okay,” he says, unconvinced and wringing his hands in front of his stomach. “If-… I’m sorry if that was-… I didn’t mean to make you-…”

You shake your head, standing back up to your full height, but you don’t close the gap between you. You don’t reach out to him, even though you want to. You just have to blindly hope he can read your mind somehow — there’s no way to explain it quickly enough without leaving you both in a mess, and right now...

“Hey,” you say, forcing him to look at you once more. “It’s not-… it isn’t you. I just have to go, okay?”

He doesn’t seem overly reassured by this, but he nods anyway. “Can-… you text me when you get home?” He asks. Then, hurried: “Just so I know you’re back safe. That’s all.”

You swallow hard.

“Yeah,” you say on an outward breath, cringing at how exasperated it sounds. You don’t mean it to — you’re really not mad at him. “I will. I’ll message you.”

Biting the inside of his bottom lip, Vernon takes another step back. He doesn’t say anything else, just shoves his hands as far into the pockets of his jeans as he can and watches you.

“I’ll message you,” you repeat, opening the door, speaking more to yourself than to him. “I promise.”

Then, you’re stumbling out into his hallway. Hurrying down the too-narrow staircase. Leaning your back against the brickwork outside, a light drizzle of rain splashing all over your bare arms. The stone prickles through your t-shirt as you slide down, as you feebly try to suck thick, damp air into your lungs, as your head starts to ache, as a dull throb starts to reside behind your eyes.

It takes ten minutes of staring into the empty road in front of you before you feel steady enough to attempt to wrestle your phone out of your pocket. No matter how many buttons you press, no matter how many times you tap it, the screen refuses to come to life and you only now manage to recall the ‘low battery’ notification that came through several hours ago. Briefly, it crosses your mind to go back upstairs and ask if you can request a ride on Vernon’s phone. You know he’d say yes. Hell, he’d probably throw a blanket over your shivering shoulders and fix you another cup of coffee while you waited, too. But you can’t. The look on his face as you slid out his front door is burned into your memory like a brand and there surely couldn’t be anything worse than having to go back in there and face him like this.

Five more minutes pass before you find the energy to stand, to stretch out your bunched up muscles, and start on the walk home. Another thirty until you’re trudging, sodden and blurry eyed and heavy-hearted, through your apartment door. Three and a half after that before you finally manage to text Vernon to say your phone died, but you’re back, you’re safe. That you’re sorry.

Barely ten seconds tick by before it pops up that he reads your message. (Followed by ninety seconds of staring down at the bubble that says he’s typing, waiting for a reply that ultimately doesn’t come.)

And four hours later, you’re still wide awake, lying under your covers, staring blankly up at the ceiling. You think you ought to be giddy, squirming, hiding your smile in your pillow — that’s how first kisses are supposed to make you feel. Isn’t it? Alas, you’re flooded instead with visions of the last time a first kiss felt like it made this much sense; in place of all the endorphins you’re sure should be ricocheting off every inner surface of your brain, all you know is heartache and dread.

So you stare, and you stare, and you keep on staring; even when your eyes start to burn, you stare a little more.

thank u so much for reading, i hope you enjoyed it! as always, likes, reblogs, comments & feedback are so so appreciated. parts 2 and 3 are very nearly finished, as well, so stay tuned.<3

#vernon fanfic #vernon imagines #vernon x you #vernon fluff #vernon angst #vernon x reader #seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #kpop fanfic #j writes.#re. high fidelity.#*

172 notes · View notes

lightwing-s · 5 months

Text

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐒

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢 ; 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭

pairing: jason todd x fem! reader

summary: when you least expect, you're hurt and the last person you could've expected is at the hospital with you, however the night takes an unexpected turn and you're hurt in more ways than you wanted to. but your friend comes to your rescue and something good may appear in the horizon

word count: 6,6k warnings: hospitals, language, mentions of family issues, alcohol

a/n: took me a while, but chapter one is finally out guys! ended up being a bit larger than I thought, but i thing it's just because it's the first chapter and I wanted to make sure to include a lot of backstory from the beginning. thanks for the support so faz and let me know what you think of it in the replies.

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡

links: previous ; next ; series masterlist ; general masterlist

The warmth of the summer evening could be felt even inside the air-conditioned gym, as the last bits of bright sunlight entered through the floor to ceiling windows and kept the place warm like a greenhouse. A small crowd started to form, as shifts came to an end, classes were over, and the weekend soared in the horizon.

Carefully, you placed your weights side by side, from heaviest in the middle to lightest in the corners, aligned at the bottom, one inch apart from each other. You fixed your position, feet a few inches apart, aligned by the lines dividing the flooring. After fixing the last pair of weights one more time, you looked up from the floor to stare at yourself in the large wall mirror.

You could’ve looked worse, you thought. A long week's work gave you small bags under your eyes, and some pimples popping out here and there due to the stress. A few strands of your hair were unkempt, rebelling against your attentively put together ponytail. You could’ve looked worse, you repeat to yourself, a mantra you so wanted to believe in, trying to refocus on the exercise ahead of you.

Three sets of eight. Let’s go!

One, two, three, you counted, your strength vanishing as the numbers neared eight. Breathe, Yn. Breathe.

Placing the lightest weights on the ground, you moan in pain of what’s yet to come, but finish your set whole anyways, placing the last pair of weights on the floor just like you’d done before. Taking a step back to breathe, you rested your joints on your waist as your eyes followed others going by their routines through the mirror.

It was then your eyes stopped on a pair of blues you’d, unfortunately, grown used to. When his fell on yours too, you rolled your eyes and went back to your exercise, hoping to not meet them again tonight.

Around two months had passed since your encounter at the party, followed by the day in this same place where he’d decided to shower you with his water bottle and basically exposed you to the entire gym through your wet outfit. Safe to say, you did not start well, and neither did you try to fix how it started.

Meeting almost every day you came out to train, your relationship revolved around eye rolls, whispered curses and a few bumps here and there, most of them on purpose. You never shared greetings, or any other words for that matter, except for that one time he took over the machine you were using, and you almost had to bark to make him go away.

It took you a while to find out his name too. Jason was what you found out through one of the instructors, not that you were asking, it just came out in a completely unrelated conversation. It wasn’t your fault. But his name would never leave your lips and that was a promise you had done with yourself. He was always gonna be asshole, dumbass or dipshit to you.

Finishing another exercise with the same equipment, you took them one pair at a time to their stand, finding it completely unorganized, out of order, and missing a few weights. You had to take a deep breath, bring all the ones you used closer, and put all of them on the display in the correct order, heaviest to lightest, from left to right.

“You really gonna waste your time with all that?” a voice you did not recognize at first broke your attention away from your OCD crisis. Turning around, you met the great wall you came to know was called Jason and gave him his usual eye roll greeting. “Happy to see you two.” He said through clear sarcasm.

Ignoring him, you continued your work, putting the last pieces of the puzzle in their correct place before seeking the ones you’d be needing for your next set. You watched Jason place his own weights correctly on their reserved empty spots before he turned to you again.

“Gonna let Roy know he’s got a new employee on his hands.” He joked.

“It’s not my fault if people around here have no care for organization,” you commented. “Not that I owe you any explanation.”

Staring at your job on the display, evaluating if there was anything needing change, you hadn’t moved a foot, and Jason needed to get the weights that were just in front of you for his next set. Walking closer, extending his long limbs, he reached out to catch them, his breath hitting your skin along the way and the sweet smell of sweat mixed with coconut lingered in the air.

“You’re truly a joy to be around.” He mocked, towering over you as your shoulder barely touched his chest.

“I too thoroughly enjoy your company, mister.” You gave him a sour smile.

“For real,” he blurted out, placing the weight back on the stand. “What the fuck did I do to you?”

Oh, the audacity, you thought. Standing beside you, he had his arms crossed on his chest, his well-defined biceps, triceps, and every arm muscle a beautiful exposition of his own hard work and dedication.

“Where do I even start?” you laughed, thinking about every little thing this man had done to annoy you since the day you first met.

“From the beginning, love.” The way he sang the last word had your blood boiling, and he stared at you with a smug smirk and challenged you with his intoxicating blue eyes.

“Are you really forgetting the fact I can’t wear one of my favorite shirts and that you nearly had me exposed to the entire gym? For real?” you questioned him, incredulous.

“Those were accidents I’ve countlessly apologized for. You know what? It’s pointless arguing with you.” He retrieved the weight from the stand, not noticing how loose it felt after taking the 45lbs off of it.

“It’s pointless arguing with no arguments.” you stated, annoyance growing on Jason’s chest as he attempted to leave, but your words dragged him back to staring angrily at your face.

“You oughta be joking.” He laughed, taking a step back, flailing his arms around and accidentally knocking the weight stand with the 45lbs he had in his hands.

“Fuck!” you screamed.

“Shit”

Nervously throwing the weight he held to the floor, Jason followed you to where you were now sitting on the floor, holding your foot after the weight stand fell on top of it. He desperately looked between your feet and your painful expression, looking as if you were about to cry at any moment, completely lost on what to do to help the pain away.

“Fuck. Shit, shit! I’m so fucking sorry.” He continuously apologized. “I didn’t mean to.”

By that point, a small group gathered around you, some trying to put the display up again, while others just looked at you two the same time all other eyes fell on your loud interaction.

“You never fucking mean to,” you hissed at him, a low cry leaving you lips right after. Your foot throbbed in pain, radiating ache through your entire body, and you could only think of foul words and even fouler action. “You dipshit.”

“What’s going on?” the red head of the gym manager showed up between the crowd that formed around you, as he dug through them to kneel beside you.

“The weight rack fell on Yn’s foot.” Jason offered an explanation in your place, as you could only focus on your pain.

“You dropped it.”.

“As if I fucking meant it.”

“Alright, alright!” Roy interrupted your bickering, helping you take off your shoe to see how hurt your foot actually was. “You need to go to a hospital, Yn. It could be a lot more serious that it looks, so better prevent that regret later,” And taking his keys out of his pocket, he handed them to the exasperated raven-haired man beside him. “Take my car and bring her to the hospital down at 8th, they’re usually quicker.”

“What?” Jason inquired.

“Take her. To the fucking. Hospital.” Roy replied, pausing periodically to make sure Jason would understand.

“Why me?” he deadpanned.

“I don’t need a hospital,” you said trying to stand up, but the loud grunt that left your throat told them otherwise and Roy pushed you to sit down once more.

“Take her to the hospital, she wanting it or not, and go get that foot checked! Seriously, you two are pissing me off,” Roy threw his hands up in the air, clearly starting to lose his mind over your continuous confrontational attitude. “Yn, dear. You got over 20lbs on your feet, you have to get it checked. Do you have insurance?”

“Yeah,” you moaned as tears had started welling up on your eyes.

“Good,” and pushing his keys into Jason's hand he nearly screamed. “Go!”

You complained only once on your way to the hospital, and it was when Jason picked you up and carried you to Roy's car. The pain on your foot, however, was too strong to complain much more, and you secretly thanked him for doing so, not daring to say anything else to the Great Wall of Gotham taking you to the hospital.

The car ride was silent, only a few of your sobs and sighs heard along the way, but soon enough, you were lying in a hospital bed with Jason standing by your feet. A hot, young, but unfortunately married, doctor checked your hurt foot, examining the bruise on your instep and also its swelling.

Jason watched your expression shift to enduring the pain from “what the fuck is this man doing” once the doctor pressed on your foot a little, your bottom lip bitten to the point you could taste a bit of your blood. He could almost feel your pain from your face, an agony tingling his skin as he paid attention to the doctor’s moves.

“Well, we’ll take an X-ray of your foot for precaution, Miss Sn.” the doctor started, voice muffled by his white mask. “But as far as I can tell with just this examination, nothing seems to be broken and you can go home pretty soon.”

You released a breath in relief, glad to hear you were potentially fine and the words ‘go home’ and ‘soon’ in the same sentence.

Removing his gloves and putting them on his scrubs pocket, he proceeded to write something down on his papers before returning his attention to you. “In the meantime, I’ll get you medicated to relieve your pain. Do you have any allergies?” he asked, and you simply shook your head. “Perfect, I’ll call in a nurse. Your boyfriend here can just…”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“I’m not her boyfriend,” you two said at the same time, throwing the doctor away. “I’m not her boyfriend, but if there’s anything I can do…” Jason offered the doctor a toothless smile, as he patted Yn’s feet. She flinched at the pain and could honestly punch him in the face if he wasn’t so far away.

“Okay…” the doctor continued. “I was saying, your friend can just call the nurse if you need anything else.”

“Not a friend either,” you corrected again.

The doctor simply ignored your comment and disappeared through the curtains to see the other patients waiting in the emergency room, too busy to care for whatever the hell you two were.

When he left, an awkward silence fell between you two as you did everything but stare at each other for too long.

Looking around the small space you two shared, Jason found a chair by the corner and sat down with a heavy sigh. The movement caught your attention, as you stared at him with an eyebrow raised. He stared back at you and just mouthed a “What?” before you let it go and focused your attention on the nurse that had just arrived.

She offered you pain medication, which you took gladly, and within seconds you were starting to feel better. Your X-ray also didn’t take long to happen. He tried to help you get off the bed, but you pushed him away with your eyes, something he’d seen a lot coming from you, and only took the hand of the nurse to assist you to the wheelchair. The nurse, a woman around what Jason thought was her late thirties, with a round face and dirty blonde hair, asked if he would like to accompany you, but you happily replied in his place. “No!”

He waited for you to return, sat on the same uncomfortable chair you had left him on and his nearly discharged phone in his hands. It couldn’t distract him, though, as the guilt built up inside him, and he could only think of you the entire time you were away.

You had left your phone on the hospital bed, and it lit up with a notification, catching Jason’s attention. His eyes lingered on your photo as its background, but soon the screen turned dark again. Thinking once, twice, three times, he jolted from his chair to reach his arm over and grab it, unlocking the screen to stare at the picture more carefully.

There, you were smiling, something he noticed in the two months he’d met you he’d never seen before. He wondered if you could really do it or if that picture was just a result of your mad editing skills. Your hair was loose, not on the high ponytail or the braids you wore to the gym, but loose like the day he had met you at that party, and he thought you looked really pretty.

A bit of a narcissist, he thought to himself, but continued to smile at the picture in his hands.

When the same nurse brought you back from your X-ray, he quickly returned your phone to its original spot, as he watched you try to make your way to the bed without any help. Instinctively, he offered you his arm for support, and was very surprised once you took it, walking slowly till you were sat on the bed.

Thanking the nurse, Jason helped you lay down again, picking up your feet to place it on the bed and pulling you up till you were comfortably sat.

Then it was awkward again, with him searching for his chair to get away from you and focusing his eyes on the small bit of skin lifting up on his thumb. It ached a little, but for sure much less than your foot did. Jason couldn’t stop the guilt, couldn’t stop thinking of you, your feet, how close he was to you then and how disastrous he was to knock the weight stand down.

He knew he’d apologized a thousand times, but he felt he needed to do it a million more.

“Yn,” he called, and you looked up at him. Something in your look made him stall, he wasn’t sure what, but recomposed himself to continue. “Again, I’m really sorry. I never meant to…”

“Urg, I know,” you cut him off. “Can you just stop it, I’m already feeling better,” you complained, but offered a small smile upon feeling sorry for reacting that way.

You knew it wasn’t his fault, and as much as you disliked him, you also liked to believe you were fair and only blamed him for what he actually did and not this silly little accident.

“I know it wasn’t your fault. You’re an asshole, but not an evil one.” you said, hoping he could see you really meant it through your eyes and stop apologizing every five minutes.

“Thanks…?” he replied, letting out a breathy laugh, which you accompanied with one of your own.

You never thought you’d be laughing alongside Jason, never mind in a hospital room on a Friday night, but that wasn’t as bad as the picture may seem in someone’s head. Not that you were starting to like him, no. You simply knew how to enjoy a moment.

Jason was also enjoying it, especially since it wasn’t his feet that were hurt. He wanted to find something else, another joke, anything to continue this lighthearted conversation, but you fell in silence once again until the doctor returned with your X-ray results. This time, though, the silence that fell upon you wasn’t awkward, rather satisfying after so much hecticness since you’d left the gym.

He actually enjoyed being in your presence this time, and the short glimpse of a smile he got from you relieved him a little.

Thankfully, as expected, nothing was broken and you were soon released from the hospital with a medical prescription for painkillers, ice packs and long rest. Jason helped you get off the bed and was beside you as you walked slowly out of the building, barefoot against your good will and thin gym clothes not shielding you from the cold hospital air.

“Wait here till I get the car, it will be better if you don’t walk too much, it might hurt your foot even further.” Jason told you as you exited the building, walking ahead in the direction of the hospital parking lot.

“I’m Ubering home.” you announced, and he stopped dead on his heels.

“No.” he countered. “I’m driving you home.”

“You don’t have to, I can go on my own. It’s not like we want to spend the rest of our Friday night together, anyways.” you said, and something within Jason dropped.

“Yn, it’s nothing. Really. I promised Roy I’d take care of y…”

“I already said it, Jason. I don’t want to go home with you.” you repeated, glaring at him with wide eyes. “Why are you so insistent? Do you want to find out where I live so you can come murder me while I sleep?”

“If I wanted you dead I could do it right here, baby.” he gave you a toothless smile. “Fine!” he threw his hands in the air. “If you insist, go on then. You already ruined my Friday night.”

“Fine.” you said, faking a smile.

“Fine.”

Jason stepped away, leaving in the direction he remembered parking Roy’s car earlier, angry that you couldn’t be nice for a day and accept his ride home. It wouldn’t hurt you, in fact, it would only be safer. He’d drop you home, help inside your house or apartment, whatever you lived in, could even be a hobbit hole for all he cared, he wasn’t going to stay long anyway, make sure you were alright and leave.

However, Jason was raised a gentleman, and he couldn’t simply leave you there, alone, at this hour of the night. Especially not in Gotham of all places. So, he did the unthinkable when it came to you, and stayed. Turned on his heels and walked back in your direction.

Staring at your phone, begging for a driver to accept your ride, you didn’t notice him returning until his shadow blended in with yours. You looked at him, still bearing his gym clothes, the smell of sweat and coconut vanished a little, and raised your eyebrow.

“What?” you questioned.

“I can’t leave you here alone. Not at this hour,” he stated the obvious. “Roy would kill me if I did.”

He lied. He didn’t think Roy would kill him, he’d be upset, but not kill him. Roy didn’t care much about his clients, just a few of them, you included, but Jason would keep that a secret. Perhaps, he’d kill him if he’d left you there, or maybe that was just Jason’s thoughts going a hundred miles per hour as the faint lights of the hospital hit your face.

“Whatever.” you said, looking back at your phone the moment you saw a driver accepting your request.

“Whatever” he mocked your voice, but you only rolled your eyes, too tired to come up with something else in return.

The thing is, you were feeling bad for Jason. Feeling bad for treating him so poorly the whole night while he wasn’t anything but the sweetest. You just couldn’t help it when you were around him, too stuck up in past events, too untrained to receive this sort of care from another man, to know how to react.

You felt the heat of shame reach your cheeks and you tried losing your ponytail to hide your face from him with your hair. But the shame and guilt came in strong, and the next word you said was perhaps the most painful thing you had to endure all night.

“Than…” you tried, but when he looked up at you from his own cellphone your voice cracked. “Thank you.”

Jason’s eyes popped open, surprised with what came out of your pretty mouth. So, amused as he was, he raised an eyebrow at you, begging with his expression to hear that word coming out of you again.

“Thank you, for tonight.” you clarified, as if it wasn’t obvious, but the smug smirk on his face and his eyebrow still up annoyed you into continuing. “You were really sweet in making me company, so thank you.”

“Wow, I’m gonna cry at such beautiful words,” he teased, and you rolled your eyes, a feat Jason had grown used to and was actually starting to like little, as this time, a small smile forced its way out on your lips. “But you don’t have to thank me, I owe you that.”

“Whatever.” you shrugged.

“Whatever” he mocked you again, but now really stealing that smile from you.

You could do it after all. It wasn’t just an editing thing, it was real. You could actually smile, who would’ve thought? And who would’ve thought Jason would actually think about it all night after he watched you leave in an unknown car, think about it as he drove back to the gym, and as he rode home on his bike. A feat he’d never expect to see but that he was glad he actually caught a glimpse of, even if for just a moment.

Roy told him he’d let him know when you arrived home safe, knowing full well Jason would wonder. Roy also knew, well thought, other things about you two, but those he’d let you two find out on your own.

Arriving home, you were thankful for living in a somewhat new building and for the existence of elevators. May the guy that invented those rest in peace in heaven and his children to live wonderful lives.

Your foot still hurt, but you could walk without crying. The years of pain endured during volleyball seasons since high school had trained you well to live through all sorts of pain, the one on your feet tonight not excluded.

You wanted to get in, order some expensive dinner, take a long bath, pick a fun movie, and watch it until you fell asleep. However, your wishes would not be granted tonight, because as soon as you opened your apartment door, you were greeted by a voice you did not think you’d hear today.

“Oh, thank god!” your mother exclaimed, rushing from her place at the sofa to embrace you in a tight hug. “We were so worried.”

“Don’t you reply to your text messages?” your father asked, his tone, as usual, harsh and imposing.

“I-I’m sorry,” you started to apologize, letting go of your mother’s hug. “I didn’t see your message, I swear, I was… busy.” You lied.

“Where were you this late, honey? We were so worried,” your mother petted your hair, fixing the loose strands behind your ear and making sure it all sat perfectly in place. “We know this city isn’t safe, you could’ve been murdered!”

“Mom,” you laughed at her dramatics. “I’m fine, I was just at the hospital.” you explained, though your voice lowered considerably.

“The hospital?” your father screamed gravely, and you could hear the anger hiding somewhere in his tone.

“I-it was nothing, really. Just some weights that fell on my feet at the gym and…”

“You still insist on that gym thing? Haven’t I told you it is not a place for a proper lady to be?”

“Dad, it isn’t…”

“Yn, have you decided when you are going back to Cameron?” your father demanded to know, bringing back a subject he always insisted on.

Your parents never wanted you to move to Gotham in the first place, thinking you’d be better off going to your local college, living at home, and finding word around the area. But yet, here you were. And they hated it.

“Dad, I’m not going back now, I have a job here.” you tried to explain, for what seemed to be the millionth time just this month.

“You can have a job at Cameron.” He cut you off, not ever allowing you to finish a sentence.

“Not in a big magazine.” you tried to argue, but you knew your father didn’t like it when you did, and you knew even more he was better at it than you ever will.

“You can have whatever job you want back in Cameron, Yn, and you know it. You tell me and we’ll get it…”

“Dad…” you tried to stop him, but he continued.

“Your mother and I had to work so hard to raise you and your sisters properly, to make you proper ladies, mothers, for you to just throw away all of it for a job at a silly women’s magazine. You’re just being an ungrateful…”

“Reymond!” your mother stopped you from being scolded even more and held you by your shoulders, warming them from the cold that lingered your skin since you left the hospital. “She has just got out of the hospital. Leave the discussions for later, right sweetie?”

“It’s okay, mama.” you quietly replied, but the tears sitting in your eyes told her otherwise.

“What did the doctor say?” she asked, breaking your thoughts away from your father’s words and you gladly told her everything the hot doctor had told you, about how nothing was broken, and how you just had to rest and take your medication.

As your mother took care of you, your father sat on the sofa, his expression the usual frown you’d grown used to all your life. You knew, if he could, he’d drag you back to your hometown and make you live the same life he and your mother had, the one your sister lived now, and the one he so wished you would follow.

In his view, he’d allowed you to go too far when he let you come to Gotham in the first place, but his wife and eldest daughter had said it was a good opportunity you could not let pass. A free ride to Gotham University. And he did let you go, but he regretted it every single day he did not have you under his wing. Under his control.

Sitting you on the armchair, your mother made sure your foot was elevated, made sure to know your medication hours and that you were comfortable before making you food and almost feeding you herself. She watched you all night while your father’s eyes never left the tv, even when you called him, trying to explain yourself once again. Why, you didn’t know, but you did it every time.

Instead, he watched whatever game was on tonight, no other words coming out of him until he and your mother retreated to your bedroom, leaving you to sleep on the hard sofa. Your mother kissed you goodbye, your father didn’t even glimpse at you.

You prayed they wouldn’t snoop around your bedroom like they’d done once before, hoping all your new hiding spots were actually efficient. You prayed they wouldn’t want to stay for the weekend, especially your mother after finding you injured, and that they’d leave the next morning as soon as the sun rose in the sky. Because just the few hours you had with them tonight were enough to set you anxiety aflame, taking you a while before finally managing to fall asleep.

When morning arrived, your mother woke you up so your father could watch the tv again and you could help her with breakfast, your injury apparently now forgotten. You ate in silence, hoping he too would share a single word other than the prayers he had you do before eating, but as sure as you are that the sun will rise every morning, he opened his mouth to speak.

“Jacob’s son has just graduated medical school and is returning to Cameron.” He informed, letting you know you were in for another uncomfortable topic. You rolled your eyes instinctively and received a warning to which you dutifully apologized for.

“He’s really good looking, sweetie,” your mother chimed in. “He could make a fine husb…”

“I’m still too young to marry.” you stated, even though you knew it would piss him off.

“Your sister was married as soon as she graduated college,” your father replied. “She’s now an active part of our church, and I want you to do the same.”

“I barely know this guy!” you tried, already feeling exasperated and it wasn’t even 8am yet.

“You could meet him, if you went back home.”

Here he was again with the same topic. One, two, three, four… you counted in your head, holding yourself together to not say anything to piss him off further.

“I’ll get ready for work.” you said, standing up from your place at the table.

“But it’s Saturday!” your mother exclaimed.

“And I’m expected at work. That’s what journalists do.” and avoiding any further conflicts, you locked yourself in your bedroom to get changed. Yesterday, you had frowned when your boss told you to, you’re needed to work on the weekend, but right now you were never so grateful for your terrible working hours.

Thankfully, once you got out of your room, ready to head straight to work, if necessary, your parents were already settled to leave, having to return home against your mother’s wishes to work on whatever it was your father needed. You didn’t pay attention. You were just happy to close your door after watching the elevator door close, taking your parents far away from you.

It was almost 9pm when you returned home, your day much longer than you had expected, but shootings never went as planned, and this time everything seemed to not work out at all.

You dragged your feet to your front door, fishing for the keys on your bag as the door close to yours opened.

“Arriving now?” your neighbor asked.

“Hm-hum,” you hummed in response. “Had to work on a shoot for the magazine today, I’m exhausted.”

Sighing deeply, you rested your shoulder against your door, enjoying the only nice presence you had your entire day.

“Saw your parents arriving yesterday,” she commented, raising an eyebrow, a move you’d seen enough the past two days. “Everything alright?”

It’s probable that no one else in your life knew so much about your relationship with your family like Nessie did, and you were glad you had her to share it with, not knowing what would be of you if she wasn’t there to help relieve all the build up frustration. But tonight, you were too tired to share anything.

“I’m gonna be fine,” you offered a smile. “I just wanna forget everything, really.”

Her eyes glimmered with a hint of mischievousness you knew to be wary of, but with a smile she made you an offer.

“I’m headed to a party tonight…” she awaited a sign, a huff, a roll of your eyes, but they didn’t come. So, she continued. “Lots of people, lot’s of alcohol to forget.”

She knew it wasn’t your thing, but it didn’t cost to try, and you’d gone the last time she invited you too. Sure, you ended up hating it and going back home before 11pm, but she wanted to help, and nothing better to forget than a lot of free alcohol.

Her offer, for once, sounded interesting. Your parents, your work, your visit to the hospital the night before, too much in too little time had your head heavy, and you desperately wanted to feel light. So, against your better judgment, you said yes. Your friend jumped up with happiness, you changed your outfit, and thirty minutes later you had a drink in hand.

Jason’s brother let him know of the party tonight, but as was customary, he ditched him for the first girl he met within five minutes of their arrival. So now, he roamed around the house for drinks and snacks to entertain him while he decided to stay a little longer or just go home instead.

Turning a corner carefully this time, he walked through the living room and into the large garden, where numbers of people danced together to a pop song he did not recognize. However, upon staring at the dancing crowd, he spotted a scene he had to stop to make sure was actually real, that he wasn’t imagining things after too much alcohol.

A plastic cup in hand, Yn danced and sang to the tune, laughing with the group and finishing her drink down at once. Yn, the same girl who just last night he’d hurt a foot, the same girl he’d bumped into two months ago and seemed displeased to be at a party just like this one.

He had to stop and admire. It was a sight he did not expect to see. Resting against a table, he filled his cup with beer and crossed his arms on his chest while he watched the scene in front of him.

You, visibly drunk, or at least tipsy, wore a pair of jeans and a top that revealed a bit much of your chest that he was used to. He usually avoided them at the gym, I mean, he avoided you at all, but tonight his eyes lingered there for a while longer than he’d proudly admit.

He watched your hips move like he’d never even pictured before, or perhaps he did. But anyways, he was glad to be seeing you move like that. It wasn’t provocative, at all, you were just having fun. But it did provoke him, it did mess with him, it did make him trapped into your body, your moves, your smile.

Damn it, he thought, you looked hot.

It must have been the alcohol. He was clearly out of his mind. Refiling the drink he did not notice he’d consumed entirely, he vanished from the garden into a much quieter place, hoping to forget your image from his head, but failing oh so miserably.

Noticing your own drink was gone, you looked at the table where once they stood, only to find everything completely empty. Not one drop left for you to drink. Leaving the garden in search of more alcohol, you felt your head start to buzz, but the lightness you felt compensated everything.

You searched the kitchen, the living room, nothing. Where the hell is the alcohol? Scanning the room you were now in, you found a single bottle on the steps that lead to the upper floor. So, you took it.

“It has an owner,” someone sang before you could muster to catch the drink. Huffing, you let out a pout you honestly could not control, and just allowed you back to fall against the wall. “Are you upset?”

The baby tone used in mockery made you realize who that voice belonged to, and you greeted it like you usually would.

“Have I told you how cute you look when you roll your eyes?” he teased, biting the edge of his cup.

“Fuck off,” you swore.

“What a foul mouth,” he made fun of you again, and you were so intoxicated tonight you couldn’t let out a smile. “Did you know that until last night I didn’t think you were capable of smiling?”

He questioned you out of nowhere and you couldn’t help but let out a loud laugh, your head thrown back in reflex, and Jason swore he could hear that sound all day. “What?” you screamed through the loud music. “Of course I can smile.”

“You usually don’t,” he came closer. “Not at me at least.”

“It’s because you don’t usually deserve it.” you gave him a wink.

“Why are you so mean?” he pouted, and you laughed again.

“I hate you.” you stated, although your lingering smile didn’t make him believe your words.

“It turns me on,” he bit his lips. “I love it.”

His statement made your stomach feel funny, and your eyes rested on his lips tucked between his teeth for a while longer than you should’ve. Rolling your eyes, you left him to return to your friend, drunk but still aware of the shit you could’ve gotten into if you had stayed by him any longer.

Jason watched you leave and followed in tow, holding the door above his head as he saw you return to your friends. They had bottles in hand and immediately filled your cup, as you soon drowned yourself in alcohol once more. One cup after another, he watched you pouring your drinks, dancing with your friends, and having fun as he never thought you would.

It was way past midnight, some time between 1 or 2 am when he noticed you stumbling into the house again, a hazy smile on your face. Instinctively, he walked to you, holding you up as he guided you, or rather, you guided him to wherever you wanted to go.

“Where’s Nessie?” you pouted, a look he found adorable on you.

“Who?” he questioned.

“Nessie!” you said, as if he should know who that person was. He asked you one more time who you meant, and you proceeded to explain your friend’s appearance through a series of babbled out words.

With his hand resting on the base of your back, he helped you look for Nessie, yet she was nowhere to be found. Nobody seemed to know where she’d gone to either, and he noticed you getting progressively more worried.

“Maybe she went home,” he suggested.

“We were going together,” you moaned, and he had to stop himself from smiling at your state. “I’m gonna go home.”

You released yourself from his touch and strolled out of the room, stumbling steps knocking you against tons of people on the way. Following after you, Jason knew he couldn’t let you go out like this, not alone at least.

“Hey, Yn.” he called, watching you walk through the front door. “I’m coming with you.”

Grabbing at your arm, he waited for you to complain, but instead you nodded and puffed your lips out again, upset over your friend leaving you behind. Jason wanted to hug you. You looked so adorable, how could he not, but it would be too… weird, so he ignored his feelings and waited with you on the sidewalk.

Noticing the time pass and no car stop outside, Jason focused his gaze on you absentmindedly staring at your surroundings. “Did you call a cab?” he asked. You shook your head.

Letting out a breathy laugh, he pulled his phone out of his pocket to call for a ride. “What’s your address?”

“Hmm…” you took your time thinking, trying to remember your street, neighborhood, whatever could tip you into finding your address, but too much alcohol had seemingly destroyed your neurons and you couldn’t remember a thing.

“Okay…” Jason sighed, thinking of what to do next.

Losing your balance, you almost fell if it wasn’t for Jason’s strong grip on your waist. He held you close to his body, as your head immediately laid on his chest, your eyes heaving and your body becoming lighter in Jason’s arms. Against his better judgment, there was only one thing he could do.

“That’s it,” he said, staring at your sleepy frame as he held you firmly by the shoulders. “I’m taking you home with me.”

tag list:@igotanidea ; @erochuu ; @kysrion ;@loonymoonystuff ; @sttrawberries ;

if you want to be added to the tag list, leave a message down below!

#jason todd au #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd #jason todd x you #jason todd fluff #jason todd x yn #jason todd x y/n #jason todd imagines #jason todd blurb #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x female!reader

300 notes · View notes

fontainesiblingsbiggestfan · 3 months

Text

Lyney & Lynette with GN S/O's pet

notes: mod dont quite know what exactly to write about but thats fine cause can just make it up as mod goes on.. would post more but dont wanna overflow the tags with mods stuff and drown out other wonderful writers n whatnot! this is probably way worse than the last one so sorry if it sucks :( [btw rq reminder that u can request stuff, so look into that if you want something made for one of/both of these two.)

Lyney is pretty good with animals of all types pretty much!! Besides fish though, fish hate him (and no even in a scared way, they bite him.) As soon as he realizes you have a pet he instantly wants to befriend it, asks you what they're like, do they like to eat this or that..

Probably gonna have to tell him to not give your pet too many treats, cause he might overdo it a tiny bit while trying to make him their favorite. Would probably start bringing a treat for everytime he went to your house then explains it as him having to pay an "entrance fee". If your pet is able to/likes to play he might bring them a toy like.. Every two or so weeks? Whenever he sees a cute toy for their species he'll just get one for your pet.

If it's a dog, he doesn't have much experience with them due to various reasons, but he doesn't dislike them or anything (even if he does prefer kitties..) You might not want a big one on his lap or anything though since he's not neccesarily the biggest guy, so be careful with that.

Asks you if it sheds before he even enters the house. He needs to know cause nine times out of ten he just finished a show and he does not want pet hair all over his show clothes. If it is then he'll probably end up going home to change to avoid any issues regarding that.

Cats love Lyney 99% of the time, can tame even the craziest of crazies into lapcats. Of course, this is 99%, not 100.. The 1% wants him dead. Birds also tend to like him since he's used to working with doves and whatnot, used to dealing with them. Asks you if he can have it on his finger/arm. Also good with rabbits due to him also working with them, might scare it like once with a magic trick though since he might forget yours isn't really used to that.?? Feels bad afterwards though and gives it food as an apology so I suppose it's alright.

Lyney is willing to petsit and is good at it. If your pet destroys anything you own while your gone he might just.. Replace it and hope you don't notice. Would be a bit scared that you might get angry at him also for letting it do that or something. In general would describe him as a pretty solid person to keep around your pet with points deducted due to the issue of him spoiling the thing too much, 8/10.

Lynette is liked by cats, and they tend to gravitate towards her. So, if you have a cat, hurray! If you have a dog, however...

Dogs don't really like her, with the range going from them barking at her constantly to just ignoring her, depending entirely on the dog's personality. Don't worry, though; it won't really offend her. She's quite used to it, and besides, she isn't a dog fan anyway. She would probably ask you to put the dog up if it won't leave her alone, though.

A lot like Lyney, she is also good with birds and rabbits. But do keep in mind, just because she's good with them, doesn't mean they're good with her. Birds, unless having been subject to Lynette for long enough, tend to fly away from her. Not all of them, just most of them.

Rodents and the like also run from her. And amphibians. And fish. Her cat-like features and smell seem to frighten any animals that would qualify as prey to a cat. But again, she doesn't really mind; she expected this sort of reaction anyway.

She doesn't try to make them like her or anything, wouldn't even mind if they hated her. Still, that doesn't mean she would turn the animal down if it does happen to enjoy her presence; she'd not-so-secretly like it if they did. Lynette might even come to your house just to chill out with the pet (you being a small side bonus to the trip).

Pretty good petsitter, kind of. Lynette has her own cats at home, so she's used to being climbed all over or serving food and whatnot. As long as the animal isn't scared of her, it will go fine. Just pray to God you have no machines that she'd have to use in her time there, and she'll be fine, 8/10 (points deducted for obvious reasons).

#lynette x reader #lyney x reader #genshin lynette #genshin lyney #lyney #lynette #genshin x reader #genshin impact

97 notes · View notes

greencways · 6 months

Text

adventures in babysitting

wc -5078

To put it simply, Emily Prentiss hated you. You had no idea what caused her to make you hate you so badly but it was unbearable. You tried everything to get on her good side, you went out of your way to do things for her but nothing worked.

"Y/L/N, I'd like to speak to you in my office" she called you out in front of everyone with the intention of making you embarrassed.

"You'll be okay in there?" Spencer questioned.

"Relax Reid she's all bark and no bite" you scoffed.

"Now please" Emily barked picking the bridge of her nose.

You looked at her and complicity nodded as she gestured her hand to guide you to her office.

"Please sit down" Emily said sternly closing the door behind her as you did as you were told and sat down in the chair opposite her oak desk "I need a favour"

"A favour?" you laughed out loud "Why are you asking me?" you shook your head slightly still laughing "I'm not doing anything for you" you scoffed.

"I don't appreciate the way you're talking me to Y/L/N" Emily glanced at you.

"That's rich coming from you, every chance you get you always take the opportunity to bring me down, literally just last week you berated me in front of everyone, it was so bad Emily, that JJ had to pull me aside and ask me if I were okay" you scoffed and leaned back in your chair "and I go out of my way to do things for you but whenever I ask for something you're too damn busy to help me or you don't really care" you stood up and leaned over her desk "so no Agent Prentiss, I'm not going to do you a favour" you turned around to leave, half expecting Emily to stop you as your hand was on the door handle but Emily didn't say a word, she just let you walk out the door.

"She just let you walk out?" JJ affirmed as you were recounting the story of what just occurred.

"I didn't pay much attention to it" you laughed making JJ slightly laugh too.

"Actually now that I have you do you think it'll be okay if you watch Henry tonight?" JJ questioned "Will and I have a date night planned"

"Of course, I'd love to have him, he's a great kid Jay, you're amazing parents" you smiled.

JJ's lips curved into a smile and she hugged you tightly "Thank you"

"Anytime" you laughed slightly "Let me know what time you'll be coming over"

"Yeah I will thank you again" JJ sighed.

A couple of hours later when you were home JJ sent you a text to let you know that they were all coming so it would be quicker to drive to the restaurant that they had planned for the date night.

Henry wasn't a stranger to you, you babysat him a lot due to the fact that you and JJ had been best friends for almost 6 years, so whenever JJ and Will had a night planned you were the go to babysitter which of course you didn't mind.

"Auntie Y/N/N" Henry jumped into your arms as soon as you opened the door.

"Hey buddy" you smiled as you hugged him back.

"Thank you again for this, so much" Will was genuinely grateful for this.

"Honestly it's not a problem, I told JJ earlier but he's a great kid, you guys did a great job" you winked.

"You are the best ever" JJ hugged you once you put Henry down and he stood beside you "you know the rules Hen" JJ pointed at him as she squatted down to be on eye level with him.

"be good and no mess" Henry remarked as if it was drilled into his head.

"be good and no mess" JJ repeated as she kissed his head on her way back up.

"JJ we gotta go" Will said embarrassed as he didn't want to be late to the reservation.

JJ nodded and smiled at him, Will smiling back.

"Bye Mommy bye daddy" Henry spoke up beside you.

"Bye buddy" Will kissed head as he left.

"Bye Hen" JJ smiled "Bye Y/N"

"Bye guys, have fun" you winked and JJ and will laughed as JJ walked in front of Will with his hand on her lower back guiding her back to the car.

"Okay dude, what do you wanna do?" you questioned giving him full authority.

"Be naughty and make a mess" Henry laughed.

You shook your head as you laughed with him "you are just like your mommy"

"Watch movies and eat lots and lots of lots of pizza" he said his ideas out loud.

"Maybe not that much pizza" you laughed slightly ruffling his hair making him laugh "come on let's go put on a movie" you nodded to the living room floor.

"Let's make a blanket fort with lots of pillows" his eyes lit up at the idea.

"That sounds like such a good idea Hen, go and get the blankets and I'll get the pillows hmm?"

Henry nodded his head and got the blankets.

About 2 hours later around 8pm after you had pizza, you were washing the dishes when you heard a knock at the door.

"Y/N/N mommy's at the door" Henry shouted to you.

"What?" you stopped what you were doing and put down the dishes to wash your hands on a rag that you slumped over your shoulder "how? you know I told you not to open the door without me Hen" you chastised calmly "It's way to early for mommy to be back wait here a second for me okay sweetie" you smiled as you walked past him to the door.

You opened the door to see Emily Prentiss look back at you.

"Emmy?" Henry questioned looking around your legs as he stood behind you.

"Hi Henry" she looked down at him and smiled, something she never did to you" can you talk?" Emily sighed as she looked back up at you.

"No I'm babysitting? Is everything okay?" you questioned.

"No that favour that I asked for earlier" you nodded for her to carry on "I need a date for Saturday night, my mom is hosting a very important gala and we're the only single members on the team" Emily begged slightly.

You thought about it, you thought about how you have never been to a gala before and it sounded like a lot of fun but then again you would have to spend a night with Emily Prentiss.

"I'll pay you" Emily shrugged.

"You're bribing me to come to a party with you" your lips curved into a slight smirk.

"Please, I'll pay as much as you want" Emily begged.

"You don't have to pay me anything, I'll go" you thought about it and you figured what's the worst that could happen "I don't-"

"I have a dress that you could have, those people in there are so meticulous" Emily smiled a little bit.

"You really thought of everything" you chucked dryly.

"So it's a definite yes?" Emily questioned "You'll go?"

"I'll go" you nodded.

"I can not thank you enough Y/N" Emily grinned "bye Henry bye Y/N"

"Bye Emily" you waved her off.

"Bye Emmy" Henry waved her off still tucked behind you.

"Auntie Y/N going to a gala" Henry questioned as he scrunched his face in confusion.

"A gala is a big fancy party where only super famous people go" your eyes widened the same time as his did.

"Woah" Henry nodded as he yawned.

"I think we should get you to bed" you smiled as you picked him up.

"I'm not tired" he yawed as he closed his eyes.

"I know" you rubbed his back to make him sleep.

"Wait I need a story" he said as you set him down on your living room sofa, you made him a build in bed with many pillows and blankets so he was comfortable.

"I know I know, I've got it here" you said as you pulled it out from a box next the tv and you read him a story.

Around 10 he was had been asleep for a few hours at that point, JJ knocked on the door to pick him up.

"Where's will?" you questioned as JJ picked Henry up to get to the car.

"He's waiting in the car thank you again Y/N" JJ spoke softly not to wake up Henry.

"You guys didn't drink?" you questioned.

"Nah Will didn't feel like it and I only had one glass" JJ smiled.

"Alright well Henry was great, we had a pizza and movie night although Emily knocked on my door and that favour that she asked for earlier that I didn't hear her out on" JJ nodded indicating for you to carry on "it was an invite to Elizabeth's gala" JJ's eyes widened in shock.

"That was her favour? you got invited to Ambassador Prentiss' gala" JJ couldn't believe it.

"Yeah she said she would sort everything out like the dress, the shoes, everything all I need to do is show up" you shrugged as JJ rubbed Henry's back.

"Well let me know everything" JJ smiled.

"It's this Saturday and that she's picking me up at 4:30 to get ready in her house that's all I know" you laughed "text me when you guys get in, okay?" you hugged JJ from the side as to not disturb Henry.

"We will" JJ smiled gently "Thank you again we're so grateful"

"Anytime you know that" you smiled as you walked JJ out.

☆

Emily knocked on the door on Saturday around 4:20 to pick you up to get ready for the event.

"You're early Prentiss" you laughed and sighed as you opened the door moving your hair out of your face by the back of your hand.

"What can I say, Im efficient" Emily's lips crept into a slight smirk "you can get ready in my house everything is there" Emily nodded in affirmation.

"Okay that sounds really nice actually" you said honestly as Emily lead you to her chevrolet cruz.

"Nice car" you jerked your head to her car.

"Thank you" Emily said opening up your car door.

"Maybe chivalry isn't dead" you joked.

Emily scrunched her face in awkwardness and didn't say anything as she walked around the car to get to her side, you rolled your eyes and groaned as you titled your head back, embarrassed you would say that.

Emily was explaining all the plans in the car on the way to her house, everything you had to do, how you had to act but you were just concentrating on how she looked driving, every time you were in a car with Emily you were always in back when she was driving or when you drove she was in the back.

"Did you listen to anything I just said" Emily snapped at you, reminding you of how she actually acted around you.

"Uh" you lowered your head in shame and played with your nails as you put them to your lips.

"Don't bite your nails" Emily chastised you before you could actually bite them.

"Do you really have to nitpick everything I do Emily?" you sighed as you leaned your head back.

"It's a bad habit to have trust me" Emily said and you rolled your eyes "Don't you dare roll your eyes at me" Emily growled.

"Have you ever said anything nice to me since we met?" anger rose in your voice.

"What the hell are you talking about Y/L/N" Emily sighed.

"Why do you hate me Emily" you mirrored her sigh.

"I don't hate you" Emily tittered.

You laughed loudly "Yes you do and I want to know why"

"Drop it" Emily snapped.

"Classic Emily Prentiss, always avoiding the question" you rolled your eyes and looked away, eyes laser focused on whatever was outside your window instead of her.

"You're unbearable to be around do you know that?" Emily shouted.

You scoffed, still looking out the window.

"I asked you a question, do you know that?" Emily repeated.

"You aren't exactly the best company either Em" you looked at her, your body still facing away from her.

"Oh yeah?" Emily shouted.

"Yeah" you shouted back.

"I don't like you, I never have and I never will" Emily screamed.

"Real mature Emily, you sound like a kid" Emily's scream had taken you aback so your voice was just an octave above a whisper.

"You are a kid" Emily scoffed.

"I'm 24 and you're what like 50" you chuckled dryly.

"I'm 39 and that was rude who raised you"

"Who raised me? what does that even mean?"

"'Nevermind forget it, nobody clearly did" she said caustically

"Oh wow that was low even for you" you scorned at her, the comment stung because she knew your past, she knew you had been in foster care for most of your life "how far away are we from your house?" you questioned because you wanted to leave the car badly.

"Like 5 minutes, do you have any patience" Emily smirked.

"With other people yes, with you, not so much" you smirked back.

5 painstakingly long minutes later you finally got to her house "you didn't tell me you live in a mansion" you were shocked.

"Close your jaw Y/L/N" Emily said as she fumbled for her keys in her pocket.

"You know, you call me by my last name so much that I actually don't think that you can remember my first name" you laughed.

"Nice try honey but I know your name" the nickname made you freeze.

"What?" Emily looked up at you? still unlocking the door.

You shook your head and scrunched your nose "you called me honey"

"No I didn't" Emily lied.

"You're a terrible liar" you chucked dryly.

"Hmm" Emily agreed, mostly because she didn't want to disagree and make an even bigger disruption again before how stressed out she would actually be for tonight.

"It's so.." you trailed off as you walked around Emily Prentiss' house, it was so different to what you had expected but at the same time it was a house that only she could live in, it was weird to see but a nice change from what her office was like.

"So do I leave my things here and get them tomorrow or?" you questioned.

"Don't worry about your clothes Y/N, I'll send a driver over tomorrow" Emily said focusing on deciding which dress to wear.

"How rich are you?" you questioned as you looked up at her 3 floor open planned house.

"Well my mother is Elizabeth Prentiss the ambassador" Emily's face turned to a scowl very quickly, it was clear from the way she talked about her they had a strained relationship.

"Yeah" you breathed out.

"What is she like?" you asked cautiously almost afraid of the answer.

"She was fine" she said honestly "she wasn't around a lot luckily but when she was it was hell-" Emily stopped herself before she could feel herself crying.

"Emily I-" you started to walk forward.

"Save it" she chuckled dryly "I don't want a pity party" Emily rolled her eyes, in all fairness, if you were in the same position you wouldn't want this attention either.

You nodded and smiled sadly "okay" you sighed in defeat "so where should I get changed?" you changed the subject as fast as you could.

"There's a room upstairs and on the first door to the left, that'll be yours to get changed and to stay the night depending on how late we get home.

"Okay thank you" you smiled.

You made your way up the stairs and turned around to see Emily still focused on what dress to wear "the left one" you smiled at her gently as you watched her as you leaned on the banister.

Emily nodded picking up the dress on the left side "I was gonna pick that one anyway" Emily sighed.

"Sure" you laughed as you carried walking to the bedroom.

Once you got to the bedroom, it was bigger than your whole apartment, there was a king sized bed in the middle of the room, paired with a sage green bedspread with matching pillows, there were floor to ceiling glass windows that shone directly onto the bed, there was a walk in closet and an en- suite.

"How rich is she?" you whispered out loud.

You took in the room and made your way to the bed to see a beautiful long red tight dress with a handwriting note next to do it fingers tracing over every word as you read it

'Y/N, I just wanted to thank you again for taking time out of your day to come to this event with me, it's going to be a lot but I will be by your side the entire time.

Now, I've told my mother that you are my date, so you will be expected to act like my date, we'll hold arms and kiss each other occasionally but it will not mean anything to me, think of this like another job.

The offer to pay you is still there

Emily"

"So Emily just treats me like shit for six years and I'm expected to act like her date and kiss her for a night" you nodded, realisation setting in "okay I can do that" you smirked.

You put the dress on and purposefully didn't do it up, almost teasing Emily, you figured if you were here light harmless teasing would be fun.

"Em could you come here please I can't do this up" you shouted hoping it would get her attention.

"Give me a second" Emily said as if she was struggling to get into her dress "on my way" she said after some time.

"Thank you" you shouted back.

When she got up to you, you were facing away from the door, you could tell she was lingering for a while before she made her way over to you to zip your dress up, you smirked to yourself as she couldn't think of anything to say, you heard several "hmm"'s and words at the top of her tongue before she stopped herself from acting idiotic around you.

"Are you just gonna stand there or can you do my zip up Agent Prentiss" you chucked dryly as you pulled your hair to the side, knowing it would make her slightly flustered.

"Oh right" she cleared her throat, she slowly traced her fingers on your back pretending to fumble for the zip but you knew what she was doing so you just let it happen.

"I can do your makeup if you want to" Emily offered, the best you had to offer was everyday makeup, you figured that Emily goes to these events all the time and would know exactly what makeup would be best to do.

You spun around to meet her, your eyes at her chest level, she honestly looked incredible, she had black heels on already, she wore a long black tight fitting dress with thick straps with a matching black bag.

"Emily I-" you breathed out, her hands on your shoulders for support.

"Yes?" she smirked indicating for you to carry on.

"You look-" you reached to hug her waist not missing her hips as you gently stroked them before deepening the hug "you look so good" your breathing started to become heavier.

"You look so good Y/N" Emily said lowly as she leaned down next to your ear for easier access to fix the shoulder of the dress that was slipping down.

Emily had to keep hold of your shoulders to make sure that you were still standing.

"Let's get out of here before we do something we regret" Emily whispered her warm breath still on your ear.

You pulled away slightly, the fact that an actual friendship or relationship with you was possible to Emily Prentiss. Sure you had your moments but a friendship with her is what you craved the most.

"You're right" you ran your tongue over your bottom lip and forced a smile "before we do something we regret" you repeated, you could almost feel that Emily was looking at the desperation of a friendship in your eyes.

You bit your lip again remembering why you were doing this, you were so naive, she doesn't want to be in a relationship with you, hell, she doesn't even want to be friends with you, even in her own words this was your 'job' and nothing more.

"Thank you for doing me up but I'm gonna do my makeup now" you smiled hoping to get out of that room as soon as you could.

"Sure" Emily nodded, she waited until your hand was on the doorknob until she spoke again "Did you forget I was doing your makeup?" you turned around, something felt off, her voice wasn't condensing, it was more of a gentle reminder.

"No" you lied, smiling and shaking your head as you walked over to her.

"My bedroom is right down that hall, we can do your makeup in there? How does that sound?" Emily's voice was strangely calm, it was gentle, like she was taking care of you.

Your lips curved into the slightest smile "That sounds really nice Emily"

Her room was huge. It was easily two times the size of your apartment, her California king side bed in the middle of the floor, a balcony, two huge walk in closets, two en-suite, one with a large bath and one with a wet room.

"You're gawking" Emily laughed not looking up as she was getting her makeup from her drawers.

"This room is bigger than my whole apartment" you said taking in the view.

Emily chuckled making you slightly embarrassed, Emily being one of the best profiler's in the world picked up on it straight away.

"Hey hey honey can you look at me for a second?" you hesitantly took your eyes off the floor "you should never be embarrassed of yourself, you're a great person and you deserve someone great and that loves you for who you are, it doesn't matter if you have a small or big apartment, or house, or mansion, what matters is that huge heart of years, honestly I was a dumb person not to realise it sooner" Emily cupped your cheeks and kissed your forehead.

"Emily what is this?" you questioned honestly "I want to be friends but-" you sighed.

"Then we'll be that" she smiled.

"We will? why was that so easy for you to say?" you questioned honestly.

"Honestly I thought you didn't like me so I kept my guard up and I pushed you back, I figured if you didn't like me for no reason I would give you an actual reason not to" Emily shrugged.

"Emily I've always liked you- in fact-" you stopped yourself before a love confession.

"What is it?" Emily questioned softly as she cupped your face and kissed your forehead gently.

"Nevermind" you laughed slightly.

Emily nodded and smiled, she didn't want to pressure you, she knew what you were about to say, and she felt the same way too, but tonight was a night where she needed to make sure you were the most comfortable.

☆

"There's so many people here Em" you whispered as you held her bicep tighter as you walked into the event together.

The hall was huge, there couldn't easily been almost 700 people there already and the event didn't start for another half an hour.

"Don't worry sweet girl, I'll be with you the entire time okay?" she nodded waiting for you to nod too, which you did slightly "All night" she smiled.

"Okay, what do you like to drink?" Emily smiled.

"I'll have whatever you're having" you kissed her cheek knowing that you had to 'pretend to date' Emily. You both knew but you both didn't realise that you two had strong feelings towards each other.

"I'll take two glasses of Prosecco Please" Emily said, taking out her purse to pay.

"Emily" you quietly berated "I can pay for my own drinks" you smiled.

"You're my date for the night" Emily winked "Plus I love paying for beautiful girls' drinks on the first date"

"Emily Prentiss you are a player" you playfully quipped hitting her arm.

"Thank you" Emily turned back to the waiter as she got you the drinks, she held one for you to take.

"Thank you" you smiled, you waited until she took a sip of her drink "you really think I'm beautiful?" you questioned.

Emily choked on her drink slightly making you smirk as you lifted the glass to your lips.

"I wish I was that glass right now because I want to be on your lips too" Emily smirked, making you choke too "two can play at that game love" Emily winked and you rolled your eyes "come on" Emily stuck out her hand for you to take.

You gripped her bicep tightly, half out of fear and half glad that you were Emily's date for tonight.

"Emily" you heard a voice speak from behind you.

"Mom" Emily rolled her eyes and turned around to face her.

Your grip was moved to her other arm, you noticed Emily tense up straight away, you rubbed her arm up and down in consolation.

"Emily I was half expecting you not to show up, you never come to these events" Elizabeth chuckled dryly.

"Mom this is Y/N Y/L/N, she's my date for the night" Emily smiled.

You looked after, your smile slightly dropped when she said 'for the night' but you put it down to nerves.

"Hello Ambassador" you smiled.

Elizabeth forced a fake smile making it clear that you weren't wanted here "so Emily when is your real date coming?" Elizabeth smirked.

You turned to Emily, curious as to what she would say "this is my real date, Y/N is here and is staying here" Emily said firmly.

"Hmm" Elizabeth looked at you up and down with a slight scowl "you can do so much better then her where did you even find her?" Elizabeth laughed.

Crowds were staring at you, you felt yourself sinking down, honestly if Emily wasn't holding you tightly, you would've been either on the floor or in some fancy bathroom right now fighting off a panic attack.

"Mom you do not get to speak to her like that, she's a really nice person and I'm glad I met her" Emily smiled as you as you glanced at each other, she rubbed your arm up and down again.

"I'm just saying, she's not really cut out to be girlfriend material for you, are you together? how did you end up being friends with someone as disgusting as her, I wouldn't even be payed to be seen with her nevermind date her" Elizabeth laughed.

You felt yourself get dizzy, you were on the verge of tears and the verge of passing out.

"Excuse me I'm just going to the bar" you excused yourself from Emily and her arm, luckily the bar wasn't too far away.

"Fuck" you muttered as you realised Emily was holding your purse and there was no way you were going back over there when Elizabeth was there.

"You okay?" a waiter said to you.

"Hmm?" you looked up at him "oh yeah I'm okay, where's the bathroom?" you forced yourself to smile as you were definitely not going to cry in front of everyone.

"Out in the hall and the second door on your right" he smiled.

"Thank you" you smiled back, almost running to an empty cubicle, you double checked to see if anyone was there before you started to sob "why did I even agree to this? I want to go home but I need to be here for Emily" you sighed out loud.

"Y/N please I know you're in here somewhere can we talk?" Emily sighed.

"No and I'm about to call JJ to ask her to get me" you said through sobs.

"No don't call Jennifer" you heard one set of footsteps walking over to you, sighing silently as you realized Emily's mother wasn't with her.

"Can we talk" Emily repeated.

"Do you feel that way?" you rolled your eyes.

"Open up I can practically hear you roll your eyes" Emily knocked on the door.

"Ugh fine" you groaned as you reached up to unlock the door.

Emily sat on the floor next to you sighing as she saw how upset you were "I'm sorry I

ruined your night" you spoke just above a whisper, you were to embarrassed to even look at her.

"You didn't ruin my night Y/N, my mother's right I do never go to these events, in fact I haven't been one in over 20 years" she laughed.

"So why did you randomly come to this one tonight?" you laughed at how stupid she sounded and then it clicked for you "you wanted to spend a night with me" you smirked pushing yourself into her side.

"I wanted to spend the night with you" Emily pushed you back, she grabbed your hand and held it for a while, you rested your head on her shoulder and she kissed your temple.

"I don't....feel that way" Emily sighed a while later, you both in the same position as you were minutes ago.

"I know Emily, your mom is kinda mean" you shrugged honestly hoping she wouldn't get too offended.

"Oh honey" she pushed you up and and you sat on her lap on the floor "honey I wish I could take back what she said" Emily smiled a single tear running down her face, you looked at her and gently pushed the tear away with your finger.

"It's okay Em, you didn't say it" you laughed and cried at the same time.

"Can I hold you a little longer" Emily slightly pleaded.

You smirked "you can hold me as long as you like" you laughed.

"Oh yeah?" Emily smiled.

"Yeah" you smiled back your fingers around Emily's neck as your face was buried in her neck.

#criminal minds #fanfic #paget brewster #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss #x female reader #x yn #x reader

153 notes · View notes

withacapitalp · 9 months

Text

How to Rehabilitate a Jock Pt 18

Part One Link to ao3 Part 17. Part Nineteen

Thank you to @stevethehairington for being supportive af and the worlds best beta and @thefreakandthehair for encouraging everything I do y'all rock!!!

Step Eighteen: Get Some Supplies

Eddie had spent quite a lot of time watching Steve in the last few weeks. Observing the way Steve spoke, the way his smile curled slowly on his lips when he thought no one was watching, the way he noticed almost everything, but was somehow still so oblivious. Eddie saw it all.

But by far the most interesting thing about Steve was the way he could switch at the drop of a hat.

It was the most interesting, but also the most frightening. It was like the headlights on the van all over again- one second Steve had been joking around with him, saying things that made Eddie’s heart race and his chest sink heavy with guilt; and the next his entire face went blank, a hard protective look in his eyes and a painful tension setting his spine perfectly straight.

All because of the sound of a car.

Eddie had no way of knowing what happened to Steve to make him like this, but curiosity was eating at him again, completely pushing aside the fact that he had almost spilled the entire bet to Steve in a fit of regretful shame.

Well, not completely pushing it aside. Eddie’s heart was still racing like a jackrabbit, but that was besides the point.

“What’s wrong?” Eddie murmured.

“Nothing,” Steve replied immediately, his voice so dead it killed something in Eddie too. Steve carefully pulled away from Eddie, leaving cold handprints where his warm palms had just been against Eddie’s skin. “Stay here.”

Not a chance. Eddie knew whose car that was, and he knew that if Hargrove was here, then nothing good was about to come of it. He waited maybe two seconds before following Steve out of the kitchen, tracing his steps to the front door that was slightly ajar, slipping out the door and onto the porch-

And walking directly into Jim Hopper’s back.

Hopper startled like he had been shot, and Eddie reared back on instinct, nearly hitting the door in his effort to put space between himself and the police chief. When Hopper saw who bumped into him, he practically growled, his eyebrows furrowing into one long fuzzy stripe as he gave Eddie a completely unwarranted death glare.

Rude. And uncalled for.

It wasn’t like they were friends, but Eddie and the chief usually had a pretty good rapport. Kind of like Tom and Jerry, if Tom was the chief of police in a podunk Indiana town, and Jerry was a trailer kid who dealt drugs on the side for grocery money. Usually Hopper regarded him with put upon fondness, not straight hostility, and the shift was… disconcerting to say the least.

Luckily for Eddie, Hopper seemed to have a bigger target for his rage tonight. A target with a blue camaro and even worse anger issues.

Steve had only been outside for maybe thirty seconds, but that thirty seconds was long enough for him to get in trouble. Hargrove had gotten out of his stupid car, leaving the engine idling as he swaggered up to Steve, a condescending smirk in his face as his eyes flashed dangerously. Max had also scrambled out of the car, and was on her way around the hood and over to Steve’s side.

This wasn’t going to be good.

But, before anything could go wrong, Eddie was reminded they weren’t alone.

“Is there a problem here, Hargrove?!” Hopper barked just as Billy reached towards Steve, putting every ounce of authority he had into his growling tone, making even Eddie shudder. Eddie had only gotten that tone out of Hopper once or twice during his many run-ins with the law, but each time it scared the bejeezus out of him.

“No sir,” Hargrove spat out, instantly taking a step away from Steve. It seemed that even his impervious armor of assholery could be penetrated by Hopper’s power.

Hop started down the steps of the porch, and Eddie burst into action, scurrying after him and attempting to look at least a little bit intimidating as he came to Steve’s aid.

Mission probably not accomplished, but Eddie hoped Steve at least appreciated the gesture. Hargrove was fucking scary, and if he could beat Steve’s face in, Eddie was pretty sure that Billy might actually kill him if Eddie decided to take a swing.

“Max, go inside,” Steve said softly as they came over, a gentle hand pushing against her arm and urging her towards the safety of the house. She pushed back, giving Steve a silent glower. Little Red was stubborn, almost as stubborn as Steve, and it was obvious she didn’t want to go anywhere without knowing nothing bad would happen to her babysitter.

It was admirable, but it was also really, really, stupid. If anything happened, Steve would one hundred percent focus on protecting her first, which might get him hurt. Eddie wasn’t great in a fight, but he knew how to find people’s weak spots, and anyone with eyes knew that Steve’s weak spots were the people he loved.

“Please,” Steve whispered, taking his eyes off of Billy to give her a silent look.

Another switch. The guard dog was gone, a sweet chocolate lab in its place. Soft and careful not to hurt as he nudged his pup away from the mountain lion that wanted to devour her whole.

Max sighed shortly, stopping to press a quick hug to Steve’s side and an even quicker flick of her middle finger towards Billy before she ran over to the porch. She sat herself down on the bottom step, her fiery red hair standing out in the dark as she leaned forward with her hands on her knees, watching them all like a hawk waiting to take flight.

It was a compromise, and enough to keep her out of the fight that still seemed to be coming.

“I’ll be back to get her at 8 sharp tomorrow, Harrington. She better be out here waiting,” Hargrove stated, bristling with barely concealed fury as Hopper and Eddie both flanked Steve.

“I’ll drop Max off sometime in the afternoon, Billy,” Steve replied coolly, leaning casually backward as he crossed his arms. He was a picture of calm, a complete deviation from the rest of them. “If she’s gonna be later than 3, I’ll give you a call. Mkay?”

Steve finished his sentence with a bitchy little smile, and Eddie bit his tongue, hating the way that his pants were starting to feel tight. It should not have been so much of a turn on to see Steve act like an ass, but when he was using his powers for good, there was something incredibly alluring about watching the former King tear someone down without so much as a swing of his fist.

Hargrove’s nostrils were flared, and he looked like he swallowed an entire bag of lemons. He opened his mouth, probably to say something stupid, but Hopper wasn’t having any of it.

“Anything else?” The man asked rhetorically. Before Billy could even shake his head, Hopper continued, putting his hands on his hips, “Good. Then scram before I bring you in on trespassing charges.”

Hargrove deflated like a balloon, and Eddie barely resisted the urge to scoff. Of course Billy was the same as any other bully. It always went that way- they were all cocky and confident when they were with someone they thought they could beat, but if someone with actual power over them showed up, they instantly showed their belly.

Eddie had no doubt that if Steve was out here alone, words would fly at the very least, and Steve might’ve even ended up with some new bruises. But the prospect of spending Christmas Eve in a cell seemed to be enough to get Billy Hargrove to fuck right off and leave them alone.

Good riddance.

“I could’ve handled that,” Steve complained the second Billy’s car disappeared around the corner. The annoyed face he was making at Hopper was ridiculously cute, and honestly, unfair. Eddie probably could have handled just the scrunched up nose, or the adorable little pout, but together they were a deadly combination that left him wanting to clutch his chest and beg for mercy.

God, he was down bad for this boy.

“Mhm,” Hopper hummed, raising a brow.

“I could have!” Steve insisted. He turned to Eddie expectantly, waiting to hear his DM back him up.

“You definitely could have,” Eddie reassured, despite not being entirely sure that Steve actually would have gotten out of that on his own, “but as much fun as bringing you to the hospital tonight sounds…”

The unsaid words spoke louder than Eddie had intended, and he even managed to get Hopper to bark out a short unexpected laugh. Eddie broke into a grin and shot Hop a smirk, the smile fading as Hopper seemed to realize exactly who had made him laugh and quickly went back to his angry scowling.

What was his problem?

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Babydoll,” Steve said with a roll of his eyes, dragging Eddie’s attention back over to him. Behind them Hopper seemed to choke on air, but Steve didn’t seem to notice, too focused on his next mission.

“I thought you couldn’t come tonight?” Steve asked Max as he walked towards where she was sitting.

“Mom and Neil decided to go to a resort for the holiday, so it was just me and Billy alone for Christmas.” Max sighed as she stood, casually stretching her arms high above her head. “I’d rather step in front of a bus then deal with that so I gave him five bucks to drive me here.”

Her movements and her tone were nonchalant, uncaring and almost lazy, but Eddie wasn’t fooled. Max was chewing on the inside of her lip, and she was avoiding eye contact like the plague. Most people might’ve missed it, but Eddie was good at looking.

And Steve was too.

“Sorry about your mom,” Steve murmured as he pulled her in for a hug. Max let him hold her for all of four seconds before pulling away roughly, tossing one braid over her shoulder and sticking her nose in the air.

“I don’t care,” Max declared, despite all of them knowing how very much she cared.

“Well El is going to be thrilled. She’s been stuck with just the boys all night,” Steve offered, giving Max an out from the big feelings talk.

“I’m sure she was fine,” Max muttered, kicking at the ground, “not like anyone was missing me.”

Eddie had spent the better part of his life being unwanted. From his parents, to his teachers, to basically the whole world. Not only was Eddie the local freak, he was also a barely closeted gay man in a small Indiana town. He had gotten good at being okay with being left behind or abandoned.

But seeing that part of himself in the little girl in front of him hurt in a way he didn’t even think to expect.

Luckily, Steve seemed to have this handled.

“Lucas was missing you,” Steve said teasingly, crushing her against his side as he dragged them both up the stairs. “I was too. Now that you’re here I can finally start karaoke. I’m thinking of starting with "I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas.”

“Fuck off Steve, that song sucks and you know it,” Max complained, trying to wiggle out of his grip. Steve held her tighter, turning back to give Eddie a ‘watch this’ look before taking a comically long breath in.

“I WANT A HIPPOPOTAMUS FOR CHRISTMAS,” Steve crowed at the top of his lungs, startling the silent frigid air of the night with the force of his voice, “ONLY A HIPPOPOTAMUS WILL DO!”

“Oh my god, you suck!” Max shouted, finally escaping his grasp and clapping her hands over her ears. Her tone was angry, but Eddie could see the huge beaming grin that was overtaking her face. Once again the unstoppable force of Steve Harrington had managed to smooth things over.

“I can see me now on Christmas morning creeping down the stair!” Steve continued without a care, giggling like a kid as he did. “Oh, what joy and what surprise! When I open up my eyes! To see a hippo hero standing there!”

Now Max was laughing too, holding her stomach as she tripped towards the front door to try and run from Steve’s singing. He held up his hands in mock trumpet form, vocalizing the instrumental parts of the song as he followed her in, leaving the front door wide open.

And leaving Hopper and Eddie all alone outside.

The silence materialized out of nowhere, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. As much as Eddie wanted to just run into the house after Steve and never even look at Hopper again, he held back. Yes, this was awkward, but Eddie could deal with awkward. He was good at awkward. He regularly stood on lunch tables for fun. He could do this. He would have them back to their normal bantering rivalry before midnight.

“Hiya chief! So how’s-”

“Are you selling Steve drugs?” Hopper demanded, cutting him mid-sentence and rounding on Eddie with fury in his eyes.

Eddie, unable to help himself, did the absolute worst thing he could have in response.

He laughed.

He couldn't help it. The question was just that ridiculous. He had sold to Steve in the past, even jacked up his price with the ‘rich douchebag’ tax, but it was only ever weed. A joint here and there barely counted as drugs in Eddie’s book. Steve wasn’t even one of his regulars. And since joining Hellfire, Steve hadn’t even mentioned Eddie’s side hustle.

“Chief, even if I was, would you really expect me to tell you?” Eddie snickered, still in shock that he was being asked this by Jim Hopper of all people. Was he worried that Steve was going to give Jane drugs? It couldn’t be that, there was no way anyone would ever think Steve would do that.

So Hopper was just… weirdly overprotective over Steve. He almost sounded like a dad.

“Cut the crap, Munson,” Hopper growled, taking a menacing step forward. “I’m serious. I don’t know what game you’re playing here-”

“Dungeons and Dragons,” Eddie supplied, still chuckling at how insane this conversation was.

“-but!” Hopper continued, putting emphasis on the word and on ignoring Eddie, “nothing better happen to him, or so help me god-”

“Hop!”

Hopper was cut short by the sound of Joyce Byers. She and Steve were standing in the open doorway, twin disappointed looks on both of their faces as they took in the scene in front of them. Steve hung his head low, softly muttering to himself as he plodded down the steps and grabbed Eddie’s wrist, tugging him back towards the house.

“Handle this?” Steve begged as they passed her.

Joyce, who was in the process of lighting a cigarette, gave him one short nod, eyes already locked on her target. Eddie didn’t really know Mrs. Byers all that well, but he had dealt with enough irate mothers to know when to stay out of a woman’s way.

“You promised you wouldn’t act so crazy-” Eddie heard her hiss to Hopper from behind their backs.

“I am concerned! Am I not allowed to be concerned?!” Hopper exploded, and Steve slammed the door before they could hear anymore, pressing his back against it and groaning as he hid his face in his hands.

“Why does everyone think I’m doing drugs?” Steve muttered. It was definitely a rhetorical question, but Eddie couldn’t help being a bit of a jackass.

“I mean it’s not like I’ve never sold to you before, Sweetheart,” He pointed out, sticking both hands deep in his pockets and letting the smirk on his face grow three times as big as Steve groaned even louder. Eddie wasn’t exactly happy to be threatened by the chief of police, but it was nice to know that there was someone who was looking out for Steve.

Hop was no Wayne, but every person needed a grumpy old man to watch over them in Eddie’s humble opinion, and if Hop was Steve’s, then Eddie could handle a few words thrown his way.

Steve slowly slid down the door as he grumbled and mumbled, ending up cross legged on the floor, staring up at Eddie with the most pitiful pout known to man.

If it was anyone else, Eddie would have kept the joke going, teased them to oblivion until they were both laughing until their stomachs hurt. But Eddie was a weak, weak man, and Steve’s eyes had somehow grown inhumanely wide and sad, and there was only so much he could take.

“Come on, let’s go check on our completely clean, absolutely drug-free cookies,” Eddie offered, sticking a hand out to Steve to help him up, “just to prove to Hopper that I’m not your hookup.”

Steve heaved the world’s biggest sigh in response, but took Eddie’s hand anyway. As he stood, rather than letting go, he intertwined their fingers, pulling Eddie into the kitchen and squeezing their palms together once before he went for his oven mitts.

“By the way, I didn’t get to thank you,” Steve said randomly as he slowly lifted the tray filled with cookies out of the oven.

“Thank me for what?” Eddie asked, reaching a hand towards the fresh treats, his mouth watering at the delicious aroma filling the air.

“Hey! Too hot, you’ll burn yourself,” Steve said, jostling the tray to one side as he smacked Eddie’s fingers away before they could get singed. He placed the tray down far from Eddie and began to transfer the cookies onto a cooling rack.

“I meant thank you for having my back out there… you didn’t have to do that,” Steve explained, his voice getting uncharacteristically shy as he continued to stare down at the cookies and avoid looking at Eddie in any way. His shoulders were curled inwards, and his bottom lip was caught firmly between his teeth.

Eddie could have lightened things back up, made a joke about Steve’s innate ability to get into trouble, or pulled some bullshit insult about Billy’s intelligence to make them both smile and shake their heads, but he didn’t. There was something about the hesitancy sitting in Steve’s body, the way he was almost holding his breath, waiting to see why Eddie had gone after him when Steve had told him to stay behind.

Like he couldn’t understand why someone would want to protect him instead of the other way around.

“I didn’t want you getting hurt by him again,” Eddie stated, feeling his cheeks get stupidly warm as he did. It wasn’t like some big declaration of feelings or love, but the way the words laid his soul bare felt just a shade too close for comfort.

“I would’ve been fine,” Steve protested, wrapping two cookies in a paper towel and handing them over to Eddie to test taste, shooting him a wry little grin as he did. “Billy won’t touch me now anyway. Not after last time. Max made sure of that.”

“There shouldn’t have been a first time, and there won’t be a second,” Eddie said firmly, ignoring whatever weird joke Steve was making about Billy’s thirteen year old little sister being able to stop her eighteen year old brother. “Hargrove might be able to kill me with a single punch, but I’ll die fighting for your honor, Stevie.”

“Well, I appreciate the gesture, but I don’t need anyone else dying on my watch,” Steve said softly, his smile disappearing as his eyes faded somewhere distant and sad.

In an instant they were back in no man’s land, unmoored and untethered to the reality around them. Steve wasn’t at a party with him anymore, just lost in some far away place that Eddie couldn’t reach. Somewhere painful, and empty looking, and all Eddie wanted to do was pull him back and protect him from whatever was trying to steal his happiness. He wanted Steve to let him in, unhook the heavy cape that was set on his shoulders and unburden himself from whatever guilt was holding him hostage.

Whatever it was, Eddie would help. He could make this easier, at least a little bit. All Steve had to do was tell him. All Eddie had to do was ask what was wrong.

The time for being cautious was past them, and the time for being afraid Steve might run was over too. They had to be close enough for Eddie to at least know something about whatever was torturing Steve so badly.

And Eddie had to care enough about Steve to put him over his stupid little crush.

So despite the fact that his heart was threatening to leap out of his chest, and the dread was making his fingers ache, Eddie took a deep breath in and forced himself to speak.

“Hey Sweetheart?”

But unfortunately, the universe had other plans.

“Steve!”

“What!” Steve yelled back to Mike, breaking away from Eddie and turning just in time to see all of the kids pile into the doorway like a pack of rabid animals.

“Now that Max is here, can we do White Elephant?” Lucas pressed, impatiently drumming his fingers on the wall.

“Please?” Will added, quickly shooting a look over to his friend before turning back to Steve with barely hidden glee.

“Fine,” Steve sighed, dragging out the word as the kids cheered and ran out of the room.

The wild tornado of children had passed as quickly as they came, but whatever moment the two of them had been having had long since passed. Sharing Steve was gone, and Babysitter Steve had come back in full force. There was nothing wrong with him, nothing that would take precedence over his kids at least.

It was admirable, but Eddie kind of hated it. Actually, more than hate. Eddie despised the fact that Steve was no longer with him, lost in taking care of the rest of the world once more. It was a good trait, something to respect, but it meant that Eddie had lost his chance to dig past Steve’s walls a bit more, and maybe finally get some answers.

“Oh wait, Eddie what were you going to ask me?” Steve said, halting in his pursuit of the kids and turning to face Eddie.

It was sweet that he cared, but it was pointless. This wasn’t the time anymore.

But…

The supplies he had in the lunchbox in his van might just be the perfect way to get Steve to open up a bit.

“I was going to ask if you maybe wanted to make some not clean kinda full of drugs cookies for us to enjoy later?” Eddie asked, mentally apologizing to Hopper. Steve quickly looked around to make sure no one else was listening, his eyes wide as a secretive smile already started to pull at his lips.

“Ask me again once the kids are asleep,” Steve whispered in his ear, intertwining their fingers. Eddie steadfastly ignored the full body shudder rolling through his body, already calculating how much of a profit loss he was going to have to go through to get Steve to finally talk.

Taglist: @paopaupaus @zerokrox-blog @surferboyzaza @whatever-is-a-good-name@minjintea @addelyin @5ammi90 @hagbaby420 @shinekocreator @bornonthesavage @starxlark @electrick-marionnett @resident-gay-bitch @ash-a-confused-enby @classicdinosaurdeathpose @valon-whomsttf @rotten-lil-goblin @thereindeerlady @love-ya-kash @kerlypride @sparkle-fiend @thefreakandthehair @flowercrowngods @milf-harrington @sadcanadianwinter @gothbat99 @hotcocoaharrington @henderdads @lightwoodbanethings @colorful565 @h0n3y-dw @craterbbox @sourw0lfs @lesliiieeeee @bidisastersworld @tinynebula @ravnlinn @bonescaro @mexmatch @cottagecoredreams @joruni @hellykelly @maegan1116 @farewell-wanderlvst @desertfern @due-to-the-fact-that-im-a-slut @anythingforourmoonyedits @eerielake @fandemonium-takes-its-toll @sidekick-hero

218 notes · View notes