#but i genuinely always thought he had the car for like half a year or a year

[reallykaz]

— .best date ever! // matt sturniolo

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

plot summary : when the cute guy in your class asks you out on a date, you’re more than happy to go. but you didn’t expect a fun time at the amusement park would end in the back seat of his car with your clothes off and his lips on yours.

content warnings : very mature themes (18+ MINORS DNI) strong language, small mention of anxiety. fluffy plot with porn at the end! first date things and matt being down bad for reader. tension in a photobooth ;) smutty car sex, oral sex and unprotected p in v (pls don’t do this!be safe!)

a/n : i’m a slut for a man who can drive. that’s it. also this is my first time writing smut so i hope it's up to standards lmaooo i really dk how i feel about this either… like always all likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated <333

wc : 5.5k

"Fuck! I have nothing to wear!"

Saturday night and you were stressing, half of your closet was scattered around your bedroom floor and your desk was a mess with makeup and hair products. The whole room smelt like perfume, vanilla lotion and nail polish from the last two hours you’ve been getting ready.

It was finally the night of your date with Matt and you were beyond nervous. You’ve known each other since middle school but you mostly talked in English class for the past four years - just simple ‘hi’s’ and exchanged smiles.

It took you by surprise when Matt asked you out on Wednesday because you had no idea that he had any type of attraction for you. In school he was quiet, played a few sports and only hung out with his brothers and best friends. You didn’t know much other than that.

Stalking his instagram didn’t offer much

But you were glad he was taking you out. It was the first time a guy has actually wanted to go on a date with you and Matt seemed really genuine. You were excited for once because usually being with guys has always left you feeling used, empty and no good. But this was different.

Matt had asked you for your number too when he asked you out and obviously you couldn’t say no when he looked down at you like you hung the moon so you had been texting each other a couple times for the past three days.

It was only very casual but instead of asking for pictures of your tits, he’d actually ask about your day and would make you laugh with unfunny jokes. So yeah, it was definitely different.

After twenty hectic minutes later and your mom bombarding your personal space to ask about the date, you had finally picked out an outfit - cute and simple with a hint of sexy and hot. It was good and you looked good in it.

When your phone vibrated from a message notification, you knew it was Matt and your gut swirled with butterflies. After dousing yourself in some more perfume, topped up your lipgloss and fixed up your hair, you check your phone.

from matt🤍 i’m outside :)

You immediately go into panic mode when you hear the doorbell ring and you couldn’t have ran downstairs any faster than right now. "Honey? Is that your date? I wanna meet –

"Bye mom! Be back by midnight! Love you!" Matt drops the kind smile and rehearsed lines in his head when you’re slamming your front door and dragging him back to the car by his hand as he looks back in case your parents walked out, "Was I not supposed to knock? I didn’t know."

You glance at your door when you turn to him, looking up with a smile. "It’s okay, I just didn’t want my mom to start yapping on if she saw you, we’d both we there for hours." Matt nods at your explanation, forgetting about the flowers in his hand when he actually looks at you.

His eyes trail up and down to check you out, the way your skirt clung to your hips was enough to make his head spin and cock twitch. Matt couldn’t believe that tonight he was the one you were all dressed up pretty for and the thought made his tummy swirl. He felt more nervous after realising he was staring.

Luckily you didn’t even notice because you were doing the exact same thing. Your eyes trained on the chain around his neck before they glance all the way down to the rings on his hands and that’s when you see the sweet smelling flowers. You try to ignore the veins popping out from how tight he was holding them. Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck

"These are for you,"

Matt holds out the flowers and you grab them off of him, fingers brushing against his as you beam. "This is really sweet, Matt. You didn’t have to do all of this," you couldn’t believe you were already blushing over some flowers and Matt just shakes his head with a smile, "I wanted to, don’t worry."

There’s a pause when Matt just looks down at you, bashful smiles on both of your faces and he liked the way your eyes looked more light with the sunset in your face. Now, there was tension in the air surrounding the two of you.

"Well thank you, really." Your voice was genuine but small, turning shy under Matt’s gaze as you avoid his eyes by looking at the flowers in awe.

"C’mon, let’s go." You look up and see Matt holding the passenger door open, "get in." He nods his head and you comply, leaning down to get in the car and immediately smelling his natural scent. It was nice, sort of safe.

"Where are we even going anyways?"

—

"Oh my god! You’re such a cheat!"

A loud set of giggles escape your mouth when you see Matt get more and more aggravated from the game of mini golf. He hides his own smile whilst shaking his head, focusing on getting his blue ball into the hole where your red one was already in, sitting nicely. "I am not!"

The fluorescent lights from the Ferris wheel was reflecting down on both of your faces, brightening the whole mini golf course in multicolours and it made the whole experience better. The amusement park was really busy for a Saturday night so when you both arrived, Matt used the excuse of 'not wanting to lose you' to hold your hand. It was silly but it made you smile anyways.

You then spent the next two hours holding his hand, laughing and competing against each other in those little mini game stalls that gave you a teddy as a prize. But Matt had won you a little heart keychain that already held so much significance to you already, you knew you'd keep it forever. He then dragged you on a couple of rollercoaster rides with the promise that you could drag him into mini golf afterwards.

Matt didn't realise that you were actually really good at it.

"I'm gonna get this next one, just watch." After throwing you a promising look, Matt focuses on the ball and you grin at the way his tongue poked out in concentration before he hits it with his little matching blue club and it finally goes into the hole. "See? Told you," his eyes light up when he looks back up at you with a smug smile on his face and you match his excitement, naturally wrapping your arms around his shoulders for a hug. "I knew you could!"

Matt's heart flutters for the 100th time tonight and he completely melts into your touch, wrapping his hands around your waist tightly. Your bodies swayed together in a moment of celebration and Matt could feel how warm you were against him.

"But guess what?" You both pulled away but you still kept yourself close when you look up at Matt with a playful smile and twinkling eyes that made him adore you, "what?" He knew full well what but seemed to find himself enjoying entertaining your banter in the last few hours.

"I still win," you let out a soft chuckle at his teasing glare, positively ignoring the way his simple touch made you feel so alive when you hugged. "Do you?" Matt questions quietly, tilting his head to the side that made you mirror his expression. Before you could answer, his hands were wrapped back around your waist and tickling your sides.

To an outsiders perspective, you and Matt looked like a young and happy couple that were very much in love with one another. The way your bodies just naturally gravitated towards each other so easily with either a simple touch or a quick glance seemed normal.

Matt was comforting. And he made you feel safe in every sense of the meaning. It was difficult to describe how you felt right now because you didn't understand it whatsoever but you knew you could be your genuine self and that's what mattered the most. You just had no idea how to tell him or if you should say anything at all.

"Ah! Stop! I can't breathe!"

Matt lets out a loud laugh, letting go of your body to almost keel over in laughter at the snort that just appeared in the middle of giggles. Your cheeks burn in embarrassment, eyes wide as you hold your cheeks in complete disbelief that Matt just heard your ugly laugh on the first date. "Oh my god! Pretend you didn't hear that."

"No way that just happened," Matt calms his laughter, looking at the way your cheeks burned red and smiling. He knew you were embarrassed but he didn’t want you to be, it was cute.

But in hopes to make you feel better, he quickly changed the subject.

Turning to grab the golf balls, he walks over to throws an arm around your shoulder and pulls you close. "C’mon, let’s go winner." You jokingly poke his side that makes him flinch and it makes you both laugh, "you’re such an idiot."

—

It had maybe been a half hour later and more smiles and small touches had been shared over some cinnamon churros. The sky was pitch black now and the air was colder. The amusement park was becoming more packed with teenagers and college kids instead of the typical families with their small children.

You could tell that Matt was more comfortable around you now in comparison to when he first picked you up. Conversation was easy with him, talking about anything or anyone and still finding it interesting. You learned more about the sports he played and his family and friends.

The conversations never expanded any deeper than casual and it was actually a relief. For some reason you wanted to find things about Matt through time and peeling back layers the more you got to know each other. You liked it better that way because it was real to you.

"Oh look! There’s a photobooth,"

Matt’s eyes looked away from you to glance at whatever you were pointing at in hopes you didn’t catch him staring and was thankful for the colourful string lights scattered above you that cleverly hid his blush. His fingers brushed softly against yours when you walked side by side, itching to touch you.

He had been stealing shy glances at you all night and kept thinking about how he could ask you out again after the night was over. But all night his anxious mind had tried to betray him and things like holding your hand needed a lot of courage to do despite the relieved feeling afterwards.

"You wanna go?" His hands twitched at his sides and when you look back at Matt with a smile, his mind went blank when you grabbed his hand this time with such ease. "C’mon," you dragged him towards the empty photobooth, quickly dodging the crowds of people in your way in hopes it’ll stay empty. "Excuse me! Thank you!"

Your hand was still holding his when you looked past the beige curtain and down at the tiny seat that was supposed to fit the both of you. "Oh."

Matt entwined his hand away from yours to slip past you and sit on the seat, manspreading and tapping his lap. "Come here," you watch in awe and the low tone of his voice gives you no choice but to lower yourself down on his thigh, fiddling with the ends of your skirt shyly. "Is this okay?"

Matt didn’t answer and just pulled the curtain shut and leaving you both under shitty, dim lights and away from everyone’s eyes.

"Are you okay?" His voice soft when he looks back at you, glancing at your lips and back to your eyes. Your heart races from the closeness and you just let out a strangled hum, "mhm." You nod.

Matt just gives you a cocky grin, "good." The heat between your legs throbs when his arm wraps around your waist and rests on your bare thigh to toy with the bottom of your skirt. He leans over to touch the screen, tightening his grip on your body and you could barely focus.

You were convinced he knew what he was doing and the worst thing about it was that it felt right. You didn’t want anything like this to happen tonight, if anything, nothing sexual at all with Matt because you were scared of losing something you never had.

But whatever this was felt different.

"You ready?" You blinked at him, an arm wrapped around his neck when he just looks at you. A look so simple that made you feel so much. "Yeah," you try to disregard your thoughts for the next five minutes of happiness.

Matt caught you by surprise when he squished your face for the first photo and just before the light flashed, you squished his face too. The two of you trying to smile at the camera with your hands wrapped around each other’s faces.

"Funny faces?" You suggested for the next photo, blissfully unaware of Matt’s hand coming over your head when he nods in agreement. The second shot is with Matt sticking his tongue out and looking at your cross eyes and your pout, trying not to laugh at the bunny ears.

Afterwards, you both just laughed together.

"Hey, look at me," Matt whispers and gently grabs your jaw to pull your face towards his, the small smile on your face disappearing when your eyes meet. Your skin turned hot when his fingers began stroking up and down your thigh lightly, making your skirt shift further up your hips. "Yeah?" You felt breathless.

Neither of you realise the camera just took another shot because all Matt could focus on was the need to kiss you. He was already half hard in his jeans just from you sitting on his lap and he could feel the cotton of your panties rub against his thigh. You were driving him crazy.

Matt really did want to kiss you more than anything and he knew you did too with the way you leaned closer and fluttered your eyes but he just couldn't. He had no idea why and it was frustrating, he felt like a complete coward. Why can't he just kiss you?

Your face drops when Matt lets out a frustrated sigh, dropping his hand and leaning his head into your neck to close his eyes. "You're so beautiful," he whines softly and you can feel him leave a quick peck to your skin which makes you feel weak so you look down at him in confusion. "Is something wrong?" You ask lowly.

When Matt looks into your eyes, you could see how his pupils were blown out and it was captivating. For a moment you're convinced he's either going to tell you what's up or kiss you when his lips part but nothing happens and you feel confused. "Matt?"

The loud speaker of an AI voice cuts you both off to let you know that your photos have been printed and to leave the booth. You let out a sigh when Matt immediately stands up, gently pushing you off his lap and pulling the curtain back open. You couldn't even focus on anything else when you follow after Matt like a puppy.

"Matt?" You call after him when you see that he was walking away, "Where are you going?" Pulling back his tattooed arm to make him look at your frown and you notice the strip of photos of you both in his hand. You couldn't figure out what he was thinking with the way he was looking down at you. "I thought we were having a good night."

In reality, Matt felt embarrassed. His mind was working in overdrive and wouldn't blame you if you thought he was an asshole. He was angry at himself for leading you on like that because that was never his intention. He really did want to kiss you and touch you without worrying constantly about little things.

"Let me take you home, yeah?"

Matt spoke softly but didn't wait for an answer from you before walking through the carpark and you once again had no other choice but to follow after him. You didn't want to end the night like this. You refused to.

"I don't want to go home yet," Matt hears you whisper and feels your hand pulling on his arm again so he turns back around to glance down at you. He sighs when he sees the dejected look in your eyes but the touch of your fingers trailing his tattoos makes his head spin and now he could only think about one thing.

"Get in the car."

_

The low hum of Matt's playlist was playing quietly when he drives into an empty carpark, surrounded by nothing but trees. Since the Photobooth incident, neither of you have talked and you're pretty sure Matt hasn't even looked your way. "Where are we?"

There’s a pause that makes you look at Matt properly. You knew he wanted to say something with the look on his face and you felt bad. It was like one moment the two of you were having the best night ever to being in awkward silence.

"I’m sorry."

You didn’t know why Matt was apologising to you because there was nothing to apologise for, not really anyways. You weren’t that much of a bitch to get angry at him for what happened earlier because it was clear there was more to it.

"You don’t have to say -

"I like you, okay?" This catches you off guard - even after all of the hand holding and longing glances tonight - it doesn't stop the fluttery feeling in your gut from hearing it out loud.

"I really really like you." Matt's voice breaks in desperation and you look at him staring at his front wheel like it's the most interesting thing ever. The light in the car was dimly lit so it was hard to read Matt's expression from the angle you're sitting at.

Matt doesn’t give you a second to reply, "and every second of this night has been like heaven and now i feel like such an asshole for leading you on like that because that was never my intention. I would never do that to you."

Finally, your eyes meet.

"I really did want to kiss you." The needy tone in his voice was driving you crazy and your body slowly gravitated towards his over the console. Matt never took his eyes off of you, eyes glancing at your lips when you speak. "It’s okay."

The way you’re looking at him now was enough for Matt to grab your face and bring your lips to his. You can feel the coldness of his rings on your skin when his tongue slips into your mouth and it makes you whimper, clenching your thighs together and reaching for Matt.

A strangled groan escapes his throat when he feels your hand pulling on his hair and he has to stop himself from dragging you on his lap. The low music playing in the background is drowned out by your lips smacking together and all of the pent up feelings Matt's had all night has just rushed straight to his dick. He had to pull away.

"Fuck." Matt mumbles and you watch him try to adjust his jeans, lifting his hips and pulling on the waistband. Your lips are plumper than usual and you slowly wipe them with a small smile when Matt looks over at you, "You're driving me crazy."

You know Matt's hard when you glance back down but you're taken by surprise when you really see how big he is. His rushed attempt of tucking it into his waistband was a failure. Matt knows you've seen how hard he was and it makes him blush. When he feels your hand trailing up and down his arm, it makes his breath hitch and that makes you smirk, "You're so cute."

"Shut up." He's smiling when he kisses you again and it does in fact shut you up. The kiss turns from sweet and tender to rough and needy in a second. Once you feel Matt's hands trail from your face and down your body, you're the first one to initiate more when you grab his hand and guide it between your thighs.

Matt pulls away and with half-lidded eyes, he looks down to see your legs spread and your flipped skirt covering his hand. "You're so wet," he chuckles softly when you moan, eyes rolling back when his fingers touch you through your panties. "This is what you do to me."

"Do you-" Matt stops mid sentence when you begin to kiss down his neck and pulls away to look at you properly, "Do you wanna go in the backseat?" You notice how blown out his pupils look and it makes his eyes darker in the dim light and you imagine looking at them every morning as you both lay together with the warm light reflecting through the windows.

Matt gets nervous at your silence.

"We don't have to, I don't expect anything from you if that's what you're wondering." He reassures, not wanting to say the wrong thing and scare you off. In all honesty, Matt didn't expect anything like this to happen when he kissed you but this was in the moment and for some reason it felt right. But he'd never make you do anything you weren't comfortable with. "I can just take you home if that's -

"I want to." You cut him off.

"Yeah?" Matt sighs with relief and he smiles when you nod. "Yeah." You mirror his smile and with a quick kiss to your lips, you watch him unbuckle his seatbelt and climb into the backseat with such ease that makes you wonder if he's done this before.

"C'mere." Matt taps his lap and you glance down at his dick once more before climbing over the seats to go to him. In your perfectly awkward fashion, you end up practically tripping into Matt's lap and he quickly grabs the back of your thighs to steady you as you both giggle quietly together. "Sorry." You whisper.

"You really are beautiful," The way he looks up at you feels so intimate and sincere that it makes you think that nobody has ever looked at you like Matt does and that realisation was scary yet so endearing. "I bet you say that to all of the girls you seduce into the backseat of your car," You joke with a playful eye roll and it makes him laugh.

"I really like you."

"I really like you too."

You can't wipe the grin on your face when Matt leans up to kiss you, his hands trailing around your body. "And you're the only girl I've ever seduced into the backseat of my car," he whispers against your lips before kissing you softly, the both of your eyes fluttering closed.

Your hands wander down his chest to the bottom of his shirt when your tongues swirl together and you can still taste the sweet cinnamon on his tongue from earlier. When you feel Matt's hands moving up your thighs slowly, you begin to tug off his shirt and he pulls away from the kiss to take it off and throw it on the floor.

"You too." Matt whispers and his hands are playing with the hem of your dress, looking up at you to make sure if that's what you want. Your heart is pounding when you lift yourself up off Matt's lap to take off your dress that leaves you in your matching lace set and when you see his eyes light up, it makes you feel better.

"Is this okay?"

"More than okay." Matt reassures softly and his touch feels ten times hotter now you're half naked that it makes you feel goosebumps. He leans up to kiss your chest and his hands find themselves back between your thighs and it all feels so overwhelming in the best way possible. "Can I touch you?" The way he asks makes you melt.

"Mhm, please." You beg with your head nodding and grinding your hips into his hand. "Please touch me, Matt." Your desperateness makes his cock twitch and he ignores it with a smirk, gently pulling your thong to the side and running a finger through your folds before finding your clit and that makes your thighs twitch when you drop your head on his shoulder with a whine, "Fuck."

"You’re so needy for me." He says so smugly, easily slipping two fingers in you and feeling how wet you are. You reply with moan, riding your hips when he curls it upwards and he can feel you squeeze around him and Matt can’t wait till you’re doing the same thing around his cock.

When Matt starts rubbing his thumb against your clit at the same time, you’re moving your hands down to his clothed crotch and feeling how hard he is. He groans lowly when your hand wraps around his print, "and I’m needy?"

"Don’t tease me." His fingers slip out of you to grip onto your thighs tightly and you begin to undo his belt and jeans. "Let me show you how much I like you, okay?" Matt lifts his hips up to pull down his pants when you drop to your knees, staring up at him through your lashes and playing with the waistband of his boxers. "Okay."

Matt lets out a moan of relief and throws his head back when you finally pull them down and take his dick in your mouth. He didn't think you could get any prettier but seeing you like this was heavenly – it was like all of his 14 year old fantasies coming true.

"Oh my god, sweetheart." You feel Matt's hands grabbing your hair and gently moving it out of your face so he could really look at you. You hum with his cock in your mouth and when he moans from the vibrations, you try to go deeper and you can feel his tip at the back of your throat and the salty taste of his pre-cum makes you choke. "Fuck. You don't have to do that."

"I wanted to." You smile sweetly and look up at Matt, watching the way he licks his lips when you rub your thumb against his swollen red tip and a strangled noise escapes his throat. Your knees are beginning to hurt but just before you could wrap your mouth around him again, Matt is holding your face and pulling you back up to his face.

"I really want to fuck you." Matt whispers lowly when he leans up to kiss your neck and just before you straddle him again, his hands are pulling your thong down your legs and toying with the lace on it. "Let me ride you." You whisper and Matt feels his heart race at the way you're looking at him as if he had no choice but to let you.

A small squeal leaves your throat when Matt pulls you on his lap abruptly and you both chuckle lowly before you're grabbing his face and kissing his lips as if your life depended on it.

His hands come up to undo your bra and when it comes off a few seconds later, you definitely know he's done this before. You grind your hips so you can feel his tip rub against your clit that feels so good that you pull away from the kiss to moan.

Matt's breathless when his hands grip your hips, helping you grind against him and feeling you get wetter by the second, "I don't have a condom." When he says this, you don't really think it through stupidly enough and just shake your head. "It's okay. I'm on the pill." This moment felt too nice to just stop and Matt just went along with it – obviously thinking with his dick.

When Matt finally thrusts up into you, the stretch stings and you've really underestimated how big he is because he already feels so deep. It was one thing having him in your mouth but when he's fucking up into you like this felt so much more intense and you couldn't tell if you were just really cock drunk or completely in love.

Probably both.

"Fuck, I swear this pussy was made for me."

Definitely both.

"It's yours." You moan when you ride your hips on his dick, pushing him down on the seat and Matt is in amazement when he looks up at you with flushed cheeks. His hands are trailing up and down your body, wanting to touch everywhere all at once when he leans up to try and kiss you. "All yours." You whisper and his lips are on yours.

The kiss is messy, hot and passionate all at once and when your movements gets faster, you're practically moaning into each other's mouths. The car slowly moves with rhythm and you subconsciously pray nobody can see from outside even if it's dark because it's really obvious with the steamed up windows around you both.

Matt notices the way your thighs begin to shake and the way your bouncing becomes quicker, "Are you gonna cum?"

You let out a mix between a hum and a moan, nodding your head when you feel your legs begin to burn. But just as you feel the familiar tightness in your tummy, Matt's holding your waist tightly and thrusting up so hard into you, it makes you cum instantly and you gush around him.

The music playing softly in the background is drowned out by your loud moans and Matt has a smug smirk on his face when your eyes roll back and your orgasm takes over until he feels his own. In all honestly, he was ready to bust the minute he was inside you but he had to make you cum first. It was a priority.

In your post orgasm haze, you don't even feel Matt lifting you off his dick until you see his cum spurting out onto his hand and tummy. "Mhm, fuck." Rolling his head back, Matt groans lowly and it makes your pussy flutter when you watch breathlessly.

The two of you are covered in a thin layer of sweat with flushed skin and neither of you care about the smell of sex surrounding you from being too high off of the pheromones. A part of you is shocked that you've just fucked someone on the first date but the other part is okay with it because it's Matt.

Matt. Matt. Matt.

"Did you really mean it?"

You blink to see Matt looking down at his hands on your body, tracing shapes on your hips gently. "Hm? What?" You swallow and he gulps, slowly looking up into your eyes, "Did you mean it? When you said you're all mine?" You can tell he's nervous when he asks this, almost afraid of your response, and your hands fall on top of his. "Yeah."

He hides his smile and you speak up again, "Did you want me to mean it?" Matt locks his fingers into yours when he nods, "Yeah."

You smile happily and lean in to kiss him softly, being careful of the mess between the two of you. It was a sweet kiss with a lot of feelings shown behind it, the type that makes you feel butterflies and never forget for a long time because it really meant something.

"'Good. Because I really want to do this again." Even after that kiss and the hottest sex you've ever had in your life, you're still nervous to bring up the idea of a second date but Matt's face just lights up. "Oh I'm definitely taking you out again. Don't worry about that."

He sounds cocky and it makes you laugh, running a hand through his messy hair and making it even messier. "I'm really looking forward to it." Matt pokes at your blushing cheeks with a small smile, appreciating the way you sound so sweet and genuine talking about seeing him again.

It felt hopeful.

There's so much Matt wants to say but now he knew there was more time. This definitely wasn't a one off thing and deep down he knew this wasn't just a crush either. He's not even sure if it ever was just a 'crush' because how could anyone just have a crush on you?

That was impossible.

"Does this mean you'll seduce me into the backseat of your car on the second date?" You joke playfully, holding back your laughter with a silly grin and when Matt laughs, so do you.

"You're an idiot." There’s a pause.

"But if you're lucky," He says lowly once you both stop laughing and you just tilt your head in response, "You'll end up in my bed."

"Is that a promise?"

"Yep."

#matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fic #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fluff #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #–stargirl fics

[yuujispinkhair]

Angel Baby

Who would have thought that resident bad boy Sukuna would become your personal angel? -> This is part of my Blog Anniversary Event (closed). @reneeprika requested the song "Angel Baby" by Troye Sivan.

Pairing: Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: fluff, College AU Word Count: 1k Warnings: None. Lots of fluff. I cried my eyes out writing this because it made me so emotional. Please listen to the song while reading it!! All characters are of age. My blog is 18+. Minors don't interact.

The sound of heavy rain hitting your window wakes you up in the middle of the night. You sigh and snuggle closer to the warm, muscular body next to you. Your boyfriend Sukuna, who has one strong, tattoed arm wrapped tightly around you, not letting go of you even in his sleep.

A sleepy smile wanders over your face. Sukuna and rain are a combination that will always fill your mind with fond memories.

It was a rainy night like this that brought him to you. When you ran from a party after a song started playing, that reminded you of your ex, who had just broken up with you a few days before. Your tears mixed with the rain, making you stumble half-blind into a solid chest, and two strong arms caught you before you could fall.

"Hey, easy there, princess."

His voice had sounded amused until his maroon eyes landed on your face, and he took in your tear-swollen eyes. You expected to be made fun of when you realized who you had run into. Of course, you knew Sukuna. The whole campus knew him. The bad boy with the tattoos and the smug smirk. A guy like Sukuna surely wouldn't be considerate of your feelings.

But he proved you wrong. His low voice was soft when he asked you what was wrong. His eyes were filled with worry when you muttered something about being sad because your boyfriend broke up with you. 

You thought he would leave after that. But he didn't. He took off his leather jacket and put it over your shaking shoulders. He led you to a nearby portico and sat there with you on the stairs, refusing to leave you alone, telling you that your ex was an asshole, and making you laugh softly when Sukuna offered to punch him for you.

He waited with you until your friend with the car was ready to go home, and even then, Sukuna told you to keep his jacket so you wouldn't get cold.

"Just give it back to me next time, princess."

The next time was three days later when you invited him to coffee and cupcakes at your favorite coffee shop to thank him for the jacket and the company. And that next time turned into many more times.

That was two years ago, and now you can't even remember anymore how being heartbroken feels.

Everyone warned you not to get involved with Sukuna and told you he wasn't good for a girl like you. He was the resident bad boy. Arrogant and rough, with too many tattoos and a tendency to get into trouble. Someone who was infamous for being only good for the bedroom.

But instead of scaring you away, that was actually what made you drift to him. Sukuna seemed like a good distraction. Someone who couldn't break your heart because you knew from the start he would only be a little fling. Someone you could just have sex with when you felt like it. The perfect guy for someone like you, who had given up on love.

You weren't looking for a boyfriend anymore. Love was just a lie, lots of words that didn't mean a thing, because you knew everyone would just leave again after a while. You had given up on romance, on "forever" and "happily ever after."

But things turned out very differently. And you are so incredibly grateful for it.

Falling in love with Sukuna caught you off guard. You didn't expect him to treat you so well. Although that first night in the rain should have told you, he wasn't the way people made him out to be.

Sukuna was sweet to you. He was the type to glare intimidatingly at everyone around him and flip them off, just to turn around and smile a genuine, dazzling smile at you and call you his princess and hug you so tightly to his tall, strong body that you felt safe like never before in your life.

He was reliable. Something you would have never thought when looking at him. But he always remembered everything you told him. He remembered your birthday. He remembered when and where to pick you up. He remembered all your appointments and helped you with them. He was there for you when you were anxious, when you were sad when you were overwhelmed with life.

He looked scared when he told you he loved you, just as terrified of those feelings as you were. Two people scared of love. You because you had already gotten burned by it too many times. Sukuna because he had never felt like that before, and the sheer intensity of his feelings for you terrified him.

You both spent the following months learning that love didn't have to hurt or be scary. You both fell in love with so many little things about each other. The way he smiled, the way you laughed. His secret passion for cooking, your passion for books. You spent hours counting the tattoos on his skin and tracing them with your lips. He told you his secrets, trusting you with everything he was underneath his tough shell. Trusting you with a heart that was surprisingly soft, if only for a few select people.

You feel him stir, and his strong arm automatically tightens around your waist, pulling you even closer. The warm feeling in your chest grows even more. You can't stop yourself from pressing a tender kiss to Sukuna's tattoed chest.

A soft laugh, raspy with sleep, fills the bedroom,

"Hmm, princess. Can't sleep?"

You smile as you nuzzle your face against his warm, muscular chest.

"The rain woke me up. But it's ok... I'm happy about it, actually. Do you know that rain always reminds me of you?"

He laughs softly and wraps both of his strong arms around you now, hugging you tightly to his firm, tall body.

"Yeah? Rain always reminds me of you, too. I'm glad you ran into me that night."

"Sukuna?"

You lift your head off his chest to look up at his beautiful tattoed face, smiling when his maroon eyes meet yours in the dim light of the streetlamp and the moon shining through the window. There's a lazy, sleepy smirk on his lips, his gaze unguarded, a look he only has when he's with you.

"Yes, baby?"

"You're my angel."

The smirk grows wider and turns into a laugh, even as his eyes sparkle happily,

"Didn't you mix something up, princess? Don't you mean I'm your devil?"

You shake your head, feeling a broad, happy smile spreading over your face,

"No, you are my angel. My angel baby. When I ran into you, I was at a point in life where I had given up on love. I thought true love just existed in books and movies but not in real life. But then you came into my life and showed me a kind of love I never knew before."

You feel happy tears well up in your eyes and run down your cheeks. Tears that immediately get gently wiped away by a warm, tattoed hand. And Sukuna's glittering maroon eyes gaze deeply into yours with a tender look in them that makes your chest feel incredibly full,

"And I never knew love before I met you, princess. You taught me how to fall in love and how to want to stay there. I think you are the angel out of us two."

You laugh happily as more tears spill from your eyes. You reach out to cup Sukuna's cheek, too, caressing the black lines under his eyes and on his jaw, looking at him with love written all over your face.

"I mean it, Kuna. Just because you look like a devil doesn't mean you are one."

He smiles at you, that beautiful smile that is only reserved for you, making him almost look angelic too,

"Then I'll be an angel just for you, princess."

I cried my eyes out while writing this!! Soft boyfie Sukuna hits so different for me, and this here really did things to me 😭💗 I hope it made you feel something too!!

Thank you so much for the super cute prompt!! The song is so perfect for Sukuna. I added it to my boyfie Kuna playlist too 💗💗

Please let me know what you think. Comments and reblogs would be very sweet 💗

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna #jjk x reader #jjk x you #sukuna fluff #jjk x y/n #ryomen sukuna

[manicpixiefelix]

Whatever you do, don't envision Reader and Felix driving a vintage convertible through the Tuscan countryside. Top down, wind in their hair, the scent of lemon groves, music playing from the radio.

Perhaps they're on their way to a private party or they're ditching one 🤭

Felix and Reader are holding hands or he's got a hand on their thigh, loving the way they look so carefree.

(stumbling out of my inbox covered in fluff: i don't know where this came from)

There's no prying eyes in moments like these, no-one to perform for, no performers masquerading as his friends or friends of the family trying to steal his attention. Its all on you, and you've never performed for Felix the way the rest of the world has.

He loves you for it.

He loves you for many reasons, of course, but this is one of his favourites.

The sun has just set, the sky painted a burning orange before it fades to sweet lilac and then night, stars beginning to brighten in the sky, and you haven't stopped smiling since he'd pulled out of the parking lot of that god awful party. His darling parents were being progressive with none too subtle purpose, and while both you and he loved their ongoing support, sometimes it was a bit much. More than a bit much. It was suffocating.

But he has no phone service out here, only you beside him with the map he keeps under the seat, pointing out a quaint town an hour away with some kind of hotel situation, and his hand on your thigh. The radio is loud and bright, though you still complain about the CD player in his car -

"I spent good money on a tape deck that works, bought actual, brand new tapes -"

"Where the hell did you get those?" He laughed, but was endeared by your efforts, even as you talked over him, pointedly ignoring him.

"- made you a whole mixtape, and you went and replaced the take deck in your card with a bloody CD player!" You threw your hands in the air in mock dismay.

"I had the CD player put in when dad gave me the car," Felix half smiles, glancing at you for just a moment out of the corner of his eye, "years ago," he reminds you. Seeing the way you're trying so hard to keep up your show off being miffed, despite the sheepish smile curling at the edge of your lips, he gives your thigh a squeeze and looks back at the road.

Slowly, you uncross your arms, sitting back in your seat with a faint, playful pout. When you rest your hand on his, it's warm.

"Made a whole proper cover for it and everything, to put in that plastic cover-thingy they all come in."

"I know," Felix agrees, "I like how you styled the track list on the back," he can't help but smile, picturing it in his mind, "and it's a good set of songs."

He loves the goofy smile he knows you're wearing without even having to turn and look at you. Something about how genuinely you've always reacted to his praise has always warmed his heart; you'd always had a knack for telling his performative, placating praise from his sincerity. He's known you too long and too well by now to offer anything but sincerity when you both know it's rightfully deserved.

"I'll buy you a car with a tape deck just so we can listen to my road trip mix," you say it so casually that he's not quite sure if you're joking. But then you pet his hand, laughter ringing out from you, into the perfect Summer night, "kidding, Fi; I made it for you, listen to it wherever or whenever you want," he catches your easygoing shrug out of the corner of his eye, "or never. No skin off my nose." For a few moments, you distract yourself, tapping out inconsistent beats along his fingers, the back of his hand -

"Unless you want a car with a tape deck," this time he's sure it's not a joke. Its as casual as if you'd offered to simply buy him a beer, no real larger thoughts behind the offer. No part of you is performing the way anyone else would; not trying to bribe, or buy, or placate, or charm, or flaunt your wealth;

"You've just now reminded me why my parents are so adamantly pro-Gay Marriage," Felix couldn't help his laughter, and you sat back, watching the road ahead with a wry smile.

"Your parents are so adamantly pro-Gay Marriage because they desperately want me to pick if I'm to be legally recognised as one or the other, so they can marry me off right now to either you or your sister, but are too deep in their support of me to feel comfortable asking that," you turn to look at him with something forlorn in your eyes despite the smile on your lips, and Felix, despite how much he loved his parents, also knew you were absolutely right.

"No matter where in the world I am," Felix grins, as the lights of the town ahead begin to glow in the distance, "the minute -the absolute moment- mum finds out the two of us can legally get married, I bet you I get a call telling me to come home so she and dad can give me the family ring," and beside him, you're cackling with laughter just picturing it, "at three in the morning, I'll be in Australia or some place, high as fuck in the bush or something, and I'll have to deal with mum acting like she hasn't been plotting this arranged marriage shit for years!"

And the two of you laugh, because you're barely twenty, and the idea of a future beyond your youthful hedonism is overwhelming if you don't laugh about it. Politics, and real world issues, and the future neither of you want to think about, are all absurd, and laughable, and easy to push to the back of your minds. Like the cassette mixtape Felix keeps in his glove box even without a tape deck, because he knows he'll never lose it there.

You take Felix's hand from your thigh as you lace your fingers with his.

And you laugh.

And neither of you knows if it's because the idea of getting married feels preposterous, or maybe a little inevitable.

#felix catton x reader #felix catton x y/n #saltburn x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton imagine #felix catton x you #head heart hand fic #manic writer #it shouts back

[pillowspace]

NOTE: although I've now finished Ruin, this was written for fun when I had only seen the first half. Its relation is limited

(Wasn't) Worth Fixing by clutterspace

You find the Daycare Attendant of your childhood hidden behind your apartment building, severely damaged.

You... probably weren't intended to.

G | Words: 1,386 | Chapters: 1/1

∘₊✧────────────────────✧₊∘

Your mother used to work as a technician at the pizza place half-way across town when you were little. It took some time for you really memorize the name—Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizzaplex—when all you did as a young child was raise your hands up high to your mother so tall and ask when you could go to pizza.

For every day she had gone to work, she brought you with her. You boundlessly scribbled in Freddy Fazbear themed colouring books with crayon on the near silent bumpy car ride there, as she had always requested the quiet before the cacophany of shouting noise the mall offered its full family guests. And much too young to be let loose among the older children, you had always been dropped off at the establishment's daycare before her shift.

The place had once held a charm to it, a brightly coloured wonder of dizzying family fun that evolved into a more thoughtful appreciation for the advanced robotics you eventually grew old enough to possess. Even the daycare had been attended to by a single machine, and to this day, you genuinely wondered sometimes if the bounciness of life its creaky frame held had really been there at all, a marvel of technological advancement, or if it was only the low standard magic that all little eyes saw the world through. Your memories were few and far between, but it had been a joyous place that looked upon you kindly, and much of that credit went to that very machine in place.

It was enough to make you feel a little bad for just how much you begged your mother to let you freely roam outside of the daycare later on, but life went on and on for little minds, and it wasn't a thought worth lingering upon.

When you blessedly just barely became old enough for it, you had gotten your wish granted to you by your exhausted mother, and stuck closely around the Glamrocks and their masses of crowds from then on. It was an endlessly exciting change from the norm, and the musical daycare of childish screams and brightly enthused words of encouragement that had welcomed you with open arms became an afterthought.

You had asked your mother one day where Bonnie went. The older kids had spoken in jokes that fell like cruelty upon your ears, and it was only your mother who might as well have been the CEO in your eyes who you could trust. Older now, you knew there was no harm in the jokes the other children had made among one another, but that a mind so easily swayed could only listen in horror.

Your mother had not sugar-coated it, much too used to the more grown-up side of her occupation to bother. You would have been fine to hear that he was on vacation, or off to bigger and better performances across the globe. You would have smiled, proud to hear of his accomplishments. But the words she told you had been without care.

He wasn't worth fixing, so they got rid of him.

It had been a nagging fear that crept over your spine for a year afterwards that the same could ever happen to you, childishly lacking in the understanding of your differences in value to the surrounding world.

And it was as you silently stared back into the wild, frozen, broken eyes dimly illuminating the dark, filthy alleyway between apartment buildings in vibrant yellow and red hues, with a right hand on your own open back door's handle and a left hand tightly gripped around a filled garbage bag at your side years later, that those very words rung back to you.

Police sirens blared in the distance, but that was the usual.

People talked, but knew little. There had been something off from the usual in town lately, police cars circling the area endlessly. They were looking for someone, or something. And your neighbours speculated, but they all speculated different topics amongst themselves, bringing all that mystery down to a he said, she said, who cares anymore. It all became naught but a backdrop with no follow-up.

Maybe no one wanted to hear a possibly dangerous animatronic was on the loose. Or- no. Maybe just no one wanted to admit to the potentially catastrophic failing, what with the previous rumours already spiralling out of control. A silent capture was in play.

The animatronic looked banged up, shattered holes all along its body. Fabric was littered with rips and tears, while not an inch of casing went uncracked. Its rays adorned with a familiar blue hat were broken, and its faceplace was almost entirely shattered in half. But despite all of the horrific damage it bore, you could recognize the animatronic for the daycare of your early childhood from anywhere, even though only an hour prior, you would not have recalled its form. It held itself still under your gaze, and you too did not move, for there was a shocked terror in the way it held itself firmly pressed against the bottom of the wall, too-thin metal fingers cracking the pavement beneath it.

It looked so scared for something (someone?) that could easily do to you what it was doing to the pavement. Though you doubted that it had any desire to do so.

You didn't know how long you two stared, until finally, you took the slowest step you could towards the garbage bin that stood only a couple feet away in the dim alleyway. The second you moved even an inch, a mechanical hum rose in volume from the wary animatronic's metal body that reminded you of the sounds your own computer makes. It didn't move, didn't talk, only watched you out of the corner of your eye as you ever so slowly made your way towards the bin. You lifted the garbage bag into it, and the clattering sound of its contents shifting within rung out much too loud for the careful silence you required. You internally recoiled from the noise, but outwardly showed not a reaction as you inched your way back towards your door as if nothing out of place had been seen at all.

Your hand fell upon the door as you stepped up across the threshold. You did not walk any further, and instead looked over your shoulder at the vulnerable state the broken, hiding animatronic you had unintentionally spotted was in. You inhaled, feeling doubtfully uncertain, but reminiscent for the sounds of shrieking laughter and the ever so foggy memory of a large sunshine grin poking into a play structure to announce that you had been found. As advanced as its facial recognition likely was, you sincerely doubted that it could connect you back to the toddler you had once been. It had no idea who you were, and therefore had no intentions of ever having been seen by you. But even if it did, would that matter at all? You couldn't be but a single file and a brief, fading memory to its systems.

(It seemed smaller like this, but you knew that you had only grown taller.)

He wasn't worth fixing, so they got rid of him.

"They check this alleyway," you whispered into the cool night air. A small clicking sound of an unknown origin sounded out from the animatronic at the sound of your voice. It did not respond, but you did not expect it to.

You turned away and walked inside of your home, intent on brushing your teeth and going to bed.

You did not close the door behind you. An unspoken invitation, because surely you would not be to blame if the ever so frightening machine found its way into your home all on its own.

You stayed in your bedroom for the rest of the night, and when the muffled sounds of police sirens finally circled back towards your street, you just barely heard the almost inaudible sound of your back door quietly clicking shut. You did not emerge, no matter what shuffling noises you heard afterwards, and instead rolled over in bed to play a song from your phone's lit screen into your newly pushed in earbuds.

If anyone asked, they had been in all night.

#pillowspace writing #i wrote this at 2am but it's fine. looking away #dca fandom #um im gonna use x reader tags but it's platonic #eclipse x reader #dca x reader #ruin eclipse #fnaf daycare attendant #ruin dlc #pillowspace art #ok bye i am making pasta rn

[winedrunkwords]

lovely vision.

pairing: steve harrington x reader

summary: the one where people can tell when steve thinks about you and mike can't whisper. [1.1k]

warnings: fluff, unrequited-to-requited-love, gender-neutral!reader

✮⋆˙ ★⋆｡ °⋆ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑

In hindsight, he really played himself, hoping his super-observant, super-loud, no-boundary-having friends wouldn’t say anything. He couldn’t tell if that made it better or worse.

It’s one thing for Steve Harrington, self-proclaimed Halloween hater, to not mind when other people decorate his space. That can just be written off to him being polite and kind, even though Dustin would scoff at that and Eddie would laugh and Mike would call him out on the word “polite” being anywhere near his name.

The point is, being around other people’s decorations had some kind of plausible deniability. Him putting up Halloween decoration himself, however, there’s no deniability in that.

“What’s that?” Dustin asked as he slid into the backseat of Steve’s BMW, pointing at the ghost charm that dangles from the rearview mirror. Steve offered (read: was blackmailed) into driving the boys from the Wheelers house to the arcade even though they had perfectly functioning bikes. But then Dustin said they were teaching you how to play some game whose name he couldn’t remember and he definitely didn’t want you walking all that way, and since he was going that way anyways….

“Nothing,” Steve snapped back, staring straight ahead. Hopefully that would be the end of it and no one would s—

“Doesn’t look like nothing,” offered Mike, the traitor. His hair was long and in his eyes, like Eddie’s, but Steve could still feel the suspicious, almost accusing glare through the mess. “Looks like a decoration.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “It’s just an air freshener. I know teenage boys stink but you guys know what that is.”

“A ghost air freshener,” Lucas said, right in his ear. Steve had half a mind to kick him out, but he’d already started driving to your house and he didn’t want to be late. “That’s for Halloween, and you hate Halloween. You always buy those dumb trees.”

“Why are you paying so much attention to my spending habits?”

“Because they’re terrible.”

Steve glared at him through the rearview mirror (the traitor). “Don’t think I won’t make you walk.”

Your house was pretty close to the Wheelers and already decked out, considering Halloween was at the end of the month and it was only October first. Fake, giant spider webs stretched up the front yard to the porch, and pumpkins and Halloween decorations dotted almost every inch. Your house looked like it was out of a cartoon about the Addams family and your outfit matched it, all black and muted colors. Your smile, though, that made Steve feel like he’d sipped pure sunshine.

You slid into the passenger seat, your designated spot (to no one’s surprise and to your complete obliviousness). “Oh a little ghost! He’s so cute! Is he for Halloween?”

“Yeah, Steve,” Dustin asked with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Is he for Halloween?”

Rock and a fucking hard place. “Uh, yeah. It looked like it would fit the vibe, you know, and it smells nice.” Which wasn’t a lie. Steve genuinely did like the way it smelled, and the thought of you smiling at him the way you were now (warm, bashful, a little endeared) made the fact that it was a ghost a good thing.

You were endeared, maybe a few shades more than that. Steve’s indifference to Halloween was a well-known fact in the merry band of nerds (their name) that he chose to hang out with. Robin still talked about the year she got him to decorate his house with one (just one!) skeleton like it was a badge of honor. Now here he was, Levi jeans and orange sweater, with a ghost dangling from his car, glancing at you with a smile as he pulled into the arcade parking lot.

Maybe Mike thought he was quieter than he was; maybe he just wanted to ruin Steve’s life specifically. Either way, the entire car heard him over the radio when he murmured, “Man you really do turn into the people you love.”

Steve flushed and turned around so fast that you would be concerned about whiplash if you weren’t replaying what Mike said over and over again. People you love. “Alright, go play your damn games.”

None of the boys said anything, Mike looking almost uncharacteristically apologetic through the window. You smiled out at Dustin and said, “I’ll meet you guys in a few minutes, okay?” You could almost feel the man beside you turn into a statue.

“Okay.” He glanced between you and Steve nervously but ultimately chose to follow Mike and Lucas, leaving the two of you staring after the arcade door as it shut beside him.

“I’m sorry he said that,” Steve said almost frantically, eyes locked on the steering wheel so he didn’t have to see whatever horrible embarrassed look was on your face. “Mike never really knows when to shut up and he’s an instigator. He’s an idiot, actually. I’m really sorry; I can take it down if you want and —“

Your hand on his bicep shocked him into silence, and when he looked up at you, you were smiling like he’d given you a gift. “I don’t want you to take it down, Stevie.”

“What?”

“I don’t want you to take it down,” you repeated, “I like it. Why are you saying sorry for liking me back?”

“Because I don’t want to — pause. Did you say back?”

You laughed, and it was the best sound Steve had ever heard in his life. He wanted it bottled up for him only, the only thing sustaining him for the rest of his life. “Eddie kept saying I was really obvious.”

“He kept saying that to me too,” Steve replied. “He’s just stupid.” He wasn’t entirely sure what’s happening, but you were still looking at him. Your hand fell onto his, right on the console, and relief burst inside his chest, a cool relief like a sip of water when you were parched.

Liking him back. What the fuck?

“I don’t think either of us are much better right now.”

His hand, of its own volition but also because it knew if he didn’t do this he would never forgive himself, cupped your cheek, and he didn’t even have time to ask before you said, “yes,” and leaned in. And he was kissing you.

Steve Harrington was kissing you like he needed it to breathe, like it was the difference between him being able to keep going or crumble right then and there. Steve Harrington liked you back.

You parted, and fell back into each other once, twice, before he pulled away far enough that he could talk. He whispered, “If those kids come out here and stop me, I’ll strand them, I swear.” Your answering laugh felt like absolution.

✮⋆˙ ★⋆｡ °⋆ 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑

thank you so much for reading this! i wanted to write something for the beginning of october and i've been missing steve, hence a little steve one-shot. pls let me know what you think; i'd love to hear it! feel free to like and reblog if you enjoyed this, it really does help <3

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x reader fanfic #steve harrington fluff #stranger things fluff #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things x reader fanfic #stranger things #mine #fic;

[formulaforza]

lunch date- m.schumacher

pairing: mick schumacher x reader word count: 700 a/n: blegh

You loved your job. At times, it was the only thing that you felt like you had control over in your life, a constant in a vast ocean of chaos with an ever changing current. You could do without the early mornings some days, especially on chilly winter mornings when you forget to start your car before leaving or the coffee maker takes a crap or you forgot to change the laundry and your favorite pants are still soaked in the washing maching. All those things were trivial in the grand scheme of things, though. Work was great. Great coworkers, great bosses, great facilities, and great work. You knew with a hundred and ten percent confidence that you had set yourself down the right path all those years ago before graduation. 

You loved your job, except when Mick was visiting. When your boyfriend, who was long-distance even when he wasn’t travelling to races, was sitting in your apartment all day being all cozy on the couch and cooking meals in your kitchen and playing with your dog, you resented work. 

I miss you, you would text him more when he was visiting than when he was away. It was almost harder, knowing he was right there and you couldn’t stay in his company, stay in the warm bed, watch your favorite movies on the couch and eat the food only he could make taste good. 

You’ll be home soon, he would always reply because he knew if he said I miss you too, you’d be halfway home before the message even went all the way through. 

The phone in your office rang a little before lunch and you answered it without second thought, mid-email, only half-focused on the voice on the other end. There’s a delivery for you in the lobby, the front-desk associate spoke, and you promised to be down shortly to pick it up. You hung the phone back on the line and returned your attention to your email, finishing the task before you stepped into the elevator. It was on the ride down you’d realized how strange a request it was. You never have anything delivered to work, and when you do, they always bring it to your office with any company mail you’d received. You’d never had to go to the lobby to pick up anything outside of a food delivery before. 

He’s waiting for you in the lobby–jeans and a cozy sweater and carry-out from your favorite lunch spot. He’s lingering at the front desk, making small talk and laughing at one of the receptionist’s jokes and charming everyone to death, just like always. “What are you doing here?” You ask as you approach, his head shoots in your direction and his smile flips from a polite purse to a genuine grin. 

“I brought lunch.”e holds up the bag like a proud little kid. 

You eat together on the bench on the sidewalk outside. It’s the perfect temperature out and the sun is shining and the air smells like the fresh bread from the bakery that’s a few buildings down the street instead of the stuffy recycled air in your office. 

“You remembered my order,” you smile sweetly at him, pulling out the to-go box of sushi and setting it on the bench between your bodies. He digs into the bottom of the bag, retrieves two white paper sleeves and pulls the chopsticks out, hands a pair to you. 

“I know all your orders.”

“Don’t get cocky, now.”

“I do, I have them all in my phone.” You laugh around the chopsticks. “What?”

You chew hard, hurried, swallow part of the bite and hum his question away. You cover your lips, shield him from the contents of your mouth while you finish chewing. “Nothing.”

He shakes his head, knows you don’t believe him, wants to show off his word. You watch him dig his phone out from his pocket, tap the screen a few times before he’s showing you a note in your contact card. He has probabably a dozen different restaurants and their orders typed out. “See?” He says, proud and goofy. 

“That’s really sweet, Mick,” you tell him. “You’re adorable.”

“I know.”

#mick schumacher imagine #mick schumacher fic #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher #mick schumacher fluff #ms47 #msc47 #f1 blurb #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 #f1 fanfic #mack's 10 days of fluff #day 10 #i hate this! 👍🏻

[illylli]

Good Times for a Change (Pt. 1) | Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

→ All it takes is a twenty-minute car ride for Eddie to start crushing on you.

→ 2.5k words: eddie’s POV, the overachiever x metalhead dynamic i always tend to write, eddie basically being max’s new (much healthier) older brother, reader being a sweetheart and eddie is just instantly awooga heart-eyes

→ a/n: sorry i’ve been away so long! work has been crazy and i haven’t had a spare moment to write :’( i will get back onto finishing up ‘bite my tongue’ and some other fics i have planned as soon as i can x

♫ mood: ‘please, please, please, let me get what i want’ by the smiths

part two

“Shit, shit! Piece of shit.”

Eddie’s knuckles were taut white as he shoved the key further than it would go, receiving nothing but a sputtering engine in response. He burst with a shout, slapping his hands down on the weathered steering wheel, his hair jerking as he raged in the driver’s seat.

This had to be a sign. An ill-omen that he was destined to be stuck in this hellish loop, repeating senior year for eternity. The first day back to good ole Hawkins High, and he was going to be late because his trusty gal decided to go frigid on him.

Despite being at it for a solid ten minutes, enough that he was panicking now, Eddie refused to give up, shoving the creaky door open and rounding on the hood. Did he have any idea what he was doing as he hoisted it up? Nope. But he was damn sure going to fiddle with everything at least once to see if it made any difference.

His eyes flitted between the front door of the trailer and the over-complicated metal innards of the van. He could wake Wayne up; he’d know for sure what to do. But as quickly as the thought entered his head, he shook it out. He wasn’t going to interrupt his uncle’s well-deserved rest for something he could figure out himself.

He always figured things out, in the end.

This time, though, it seemed he wouldn’t need to.

A cream Porsche 911 rolled forward, windows down, allowing a Smiths song to swirl in the air. Eddie scrunched his nose at the sound, turning around to bear witness to the way you, bright-eyed behind your round sunglasses, popped out and half-jogged up to the Mayfield family’s home, knocking thrice and bouncing on the heels of your shiny black boots as you waited.  

Eddie only realised he had gone slack-jawed when the emerging Max gave him an annoyed glare as she exited. Her arm was immediately linked in yours as you turned back to your car, a flurry of words bubbling from your perfectly-poised lips. You couldn’t be more opposite to the redhead, who sulked all the way to the passenger side, waiting with crossed arms as you opened the door for her.

It was then, as you were shutting the door gently, that your eyes peered up over the lenses of your glasses and caught Eddie Munson leaning over his van engine, staring at you.

He felt his cheeks flush stupidly as he quickly brought his eyes back down, hoping you wouldn’t say anything, but knowing you would.

The preppy now-senior who was always voted ‘most likely to exceed’ in every yearbook didn’t belong in a dump like this. Though Eddie’s curiosity wouldn’t take him as far to ask you why.

“Gimme a sec,” You told Max with a tap to the roof of your car, before Eddie heard the gravel beneath your boots crunching as you made your way over to him.

Eddie got to looking busy, fidgeting with the cap on one of the compartments, his fingers staining with grease as he twirled it off.

“Need a hand?” You asked sweetly, and though Eddie didn’t mean to let it slip, he huffed in amusement at the thought of little miss perfect getting her hands dirty.

“No I’ve uh,” he gave a tight grin, pulling at another mystery part of the engine, “I’ve got it, sweetheart.”

You bristled at the term, unsure if it was used genuinely or with condescending intent. “Right,” you nodded, glancing down at his hands, “I’ve just never seen someone use a dipstick to measure engine coolant.” You bent over, tapping on the side of the semi-transparent container. “You can see the levels marked right here; in case you didn’t know.”

Eddie heard snickering, his gaze darting over to your car where Max was hanging out of the window, laughing at him. He hadn’t seen his neighbour smile, let alone hear her laugh before. He wasn’t sure if being the cause of her amusement should make his embarrassment grow or lessen.

“Leave the dipstick alone,” Max called, “He’s going to make us late.”  

You rolled your eyes with your back turned to her, though you wore an endeared smile, and it eased Eddie. Your first shared joke, and he wasn’t even sure you knew his name.

You brought your manicured hands to your hips. “Edward Munson, right?” You asked, as if reading his thoughts.

He winced slightly, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “Eddie’s fine. Or dipstick, as lovingly dubbed by my nefarious neighbour.” He said that last part over your shoulder, and Max threw up a middle finger.

“Well, Eddie,” you tested his name, “Are you going to play mechanic all day, or do you want a lift to school?”

Eddie sighed, closing the van’s hood. That meant you remembered the fact that his name hadn’t been amongst those called out on graduation day last year. Shame crawled up his throat and he swallowed it down as usual.

He lingered for a second, letting The Smiths serenade his decision as he retrieved his backpack from the van before locking it up.

“I’m all yours.”  

With a content nod you lead him to your car, and only then did he realise it only had 2 doors. Max eyed Eddie as you bent over, pulling the driver’s seat forward. He widened his eyes at her, a response to her silent dare, but also a tactic to stop his gaze from slipping to the bare back of your thighs and up higher, where your skirt hem danced just below your-

“Eddie!”

His eyes snapped back to Max’s bright blue then away to the treeline, coughing awkwardly as you straightened, motioning for him to climb into the backseat. When he didn’t immediately go for it, you frowned up at him, then back to Max.

“Everything okay?”

Max narrowed her eyes at the young man. “I’m fine.”

“Peachy,” Eddie muttered, smiling to himself as Max scoffed. He clambered, with effort, into the backseat, his knees almost coming up to his chest in the tiny car. Max made a point to push her seat back all the way, cramping him further as she gave herself a lot more leg room than she needed.

“Comfortable, Mayfield?” Eddie grumbled.

“Yup,” She bit back, putting her feet up on the dash, which you quickly swatted down.

“Seatbelt,” You instructed, pushing your seat back into position, mercifully giving Eddie extra room to stretch out behind you. He had to hunch over, otherwise his head would be against the low roof.

Morrissey was pleading, “Let me, let me, let me” as you put the car into drive, circling around, driving past Eddie’s van and along the dirt road to exit the trailer park.

You drove with the windows down, and as you picked up speed, turning onto the paved road, Max opened the glove compartment, riffling through your collection of cassettes.

Eddie wasn’t hopeful, but he popped his head between the front seats, scrutinising if you had anything good. The Cure, Bowie, Cocteau Twins; not exactly his taste, but at least you weren’t totally hopeless.

“Check my bag,” you told Max, pointing to the back. She rounded on Eddie, frowning at him with her hand outstretched. He looked left then right, muttering a curse as he realised the sage green bag had been squashed under his reeboks.

Max waited impatiently as he pulled it up, unzipping it before handing it to the girl. He’d gotten a glimpse into your life in that split second: lipstick, a couple dollars, and a whiff of maddening perfume surrounding a small package wrapped in butcher’s paper.

As soon as Max laid eyes on the contents her annoyance faded to curiosity. You nodded, encouraging her as she picked up the small box.

She tore into it, unwrapping a tape with a purple cover.

“Kate Bush?”

You smiled, eyes still on the road. Eddie watched the exchange through the rear-view mirror as he relaxed into the soft leather seat.

“She got me through my freshman year. She’ll get you through yours.” You reached over and tugged on her braid, and she shoved your hand away, but a small smile stayed on her lips.

Max switched out The Smiths for her gift, and though it definitely was not something he’d be caught dead listening to, Eddie couldn’t help but feel his soul warm every time he got to witness someone fall in love for the first time. Max sat back, her glassy eyes wide and reminiscing as she turned her head and watched the trees fly by, the music sinking into her.

Eddie wanted to ask how the hell a senior with an express ticket to an Ivy League college had come to befriend his sulky young neighbour, but he knew better than to interrupt the listening session, a comfortable silence falling as you appreciated the record.

He took the time to admire the way your delicate pearl bracelet swayed each time you shifted gears, your handling of the car so smooth he could barely feel it each time. The realisation finally struck him that he, Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson, was getting chauffeured by the most well-liked person of the school.

And no, popularity had nothing to do with it. You were far from ‘popular’; those who were envied and unapproachable. You were the people person: a rare mix of agreeable and adaptable that made absolutely everyone at the very least neutral to your presence. You could pick any table to sit at during lunch, strike up a conversation with anyone, be it teacher or student, and have them smiling the whole way through.

Hell, you’d managed to squeeze a few out of Mayfield, despite her usual stormy disposition.

As the previous song ended, Eddie spoke into the silence before the next began, his hands wrapping around the seat on either side of your head.

“You make this a habit?” He asked, “A shuttle for the wicked?”

You peered at him through the rear view, humour sparkling in your eyes. “This is a one-off for you, Munson. I only promised Max my wheels for the school year.”

“Why is that, I wonder?” He mused mischievously, turning his attention to the younger girl, “You got some juicy dirt on the future valedictorian?”

“Oh, of course,” Max turned in her seat, facing Eddie through the gap in the headrest, over-enthusiastic, “She sells drugs to kids and failed senior year twice.”

“Har har,” Eddie fell back into the leather, wearing a tight-lipped smile, “Great joke.”

“The greatest joke of all is in the backseat wearing his shirt inside out,” She muttered, turning back to the front.

“Hey,” you warned, but your tone was gentle. Max faced out the window again, and your eyes caught Eddie’s in the mirror. “She’s right, though.”

His heart sunk.

“Your shirt’s inside out.”

He looked down, uttered an “Oh,” just as you pulled into the car park.

“Wait,” you told Max, her hand on the door handle. “Did your mom pack you lunch?”

“No,” She replied, as if it were a fact of life.

You pulled your bag onto your lap, retrieving a lunchbox with a faded wonder woman adorning the front. “I didn’t know what you like, so I made one ham and one turkey. There’s also a fudge brownie in there. Just bring back whatever you don’t eat.”

Max frowned as you passed the box to her, caught off guard.

“Thanks,” she murmured before leaving without so much as a goodbye to Eddie.

“Have a good day!” You yelled out the window, “I’ll meet you back here at three.”

She nodded before sliding her headphones onto her ears.

“Is the big juicy secret that you’re actually her mom?”

Eddie’s voice made you jump, and you remembered he was still in the back.

He reached forward, leaving a teasing pinch to your arm. “Are you secretly like, forty-five, but super good at doing your makeup, or something?”

“Or something,” You retorted, pulling the passenger seat all the way forward to give him a way out.

Instead of leaving, he pulled his shirt over his head, flipping it the right way out. He glanced up, catching you looking at his chest, then looking away when you noticed.

Eddie chuckled as he shrugged the shirt back on. “Wouldn’t want to make a bad first impression, right?”

“More like third impression.”

“Hey, third time’s the charm, don’t they say?” He leaned forward to go, but paused, his guitar-pick necklace dangling in your face. “Mommy dearest didn’t pack my lunch, either, y’know.”

You laughed, shoving him. “I’m not a charity worker. You can eat from the cafeteria like all the other neglected kids.”

He felt it then. What everyone else must have, when in your presence. The distinct magnetism that came with this easy flow, like you’d been friends for years, when in reality you’d only officially become acquainted twenty minutes ago. He didn’t want to leave.

“I’m guessing I won’t see you there?”

You looked up at him, and he wondered if everyone felt their heart stop when you looked at them like that.

“You might.”

He chuckled, “How does this work? Do I chant your name three times into the boy’s bathroom mirror and you show up at my lunch table?”

“Or you could just save me a seat and I’ll come find you.”

He wasn’t sure what was happening in his chest, but the ricochet of his heart’s pounding made his breath quiver.

“Alright.”

You weren’t flirting with him. You were not flirting. You were just being nice. You were like this to everyone.

Eddie was trying to get it through his thick skull, but no matter how many times he told himself, he couldn’t believe it. Especially not when you hurried out to meet him at the passenger side to offer him your hand as he climbed out, your free one landing gently on his head to make sure he didn’t bump it on the way out.

“Your hair’s really soft,” you complimented.

“You too,” he stammered, “Uh, I mean, it looks-“ He reached out, pushing a stray lock behind your ear, then immediately regretting doing it without asking. “Mhmm. Yes. Confirmed.”

What was happening to him? His tongue felt heavy in his mouth. A betrayal of his own body that worsened when he realised he hadn’t let go of your hand.

“Shit. Sorry.”

As he let go, a group of jocks passed by, subtlety lost on them as they glared at him.

“Thanks for the ride,” Eddie said, slinging his backpack over his shoulder, “Anyway. See you at lunch. Maybe.” He backed up, feeling the tension in his chest lighten slightly the further he got away, “If you’re not there by second bell I’ll start chanting.”

You tittered. “You’re really not doing anything to quell the satanist rumours, are you?”

“That’s what I’ve got you for, angel,” he winked.

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[a-heart-attack-ow]

The Arrangement. Part nine

Part Eight

Part Nine: Smut/Unedited

A line of unmarked black cars cascaded up the winding driveway of our estate. A parade of cars that seemed like an ominous omen of what was to come next. I stand there, looking out the gigantic circular window overlooking the front lawn, my eyes tired from the night before. Colby Brock had called in his associates for whatever he had planned to do next.

Regardless of the consequences.

I shake the thought from my head as a quiet voice comes from behind me. 

“Are you ready?”

Sam rasps, his hand on the small of my back. I glance over my shoulder and breathe a deep sigh. He looked at me slowly, noting what I was wearing. A pair of skinny jeans, oxfords, and a blue sweater. Kris had put my hair up in a half up and down look, the updo part supported by a blue bow, which looked like something Belle from Beauty and the Beast would wear. It was a more casual look but I figured I didn’t need to dress up for whatever revenge plot Colby was cooking up. It was clothing that I would’ve worn before my new life started a year ago.

Clothing that felt more like me for the first time in so long.

I nod feebly and turn to face him, our eyes meeting. For a moment he allowed his eyes to drift to my stomach, the nonexistent baby bump was almost enough for me to believe I’d dreamed everything up. But the blood test I’d taken confirmed it, I was pregnant.

I was pregnant with Colby Brock’s baby.

Though no one could tell yet, it was still too early. A look moves to Sam’s face as he reaches forward to place a hand on the side of my face. For a moment I froze, because he never touched me like this. He breathes a deep sigh, his thumb lightly grazing my cheekbone. He swallows hard when he sees the look of confusion move to my eyes and then he moves his hand from me. It looks like there’s something he wants to tell me, but he doesn’t. It's the same look that I’d seen once or twice throughout the duration of my first year of marriage. My marriage to his best friend and adopted brother. 

“Sam? Is something wrong?”

I ask. Genuine concern starts to overtake me as I look at him. I don’t know what’s got him being like this with me. I don’t know if it's because he found out I was pregnant two days ago and he was being a protective friend or if he knew something I didn’t know. Whatever it was, it caused me great pain to see him looking at me like this. 

At first he doesn't respond, only takes my hands in his, his thumb tracing over the wedding ring and wedding band that I haven’t taken off since I got married. He traces the gaudy design in silence for several minutes before he dares to look up at me. 

“Colby is so lucky to have you...”

He sounds almost bitter when he says this. 

“... He’s always been so careless when it comes to loving someone. Always seemed to be in it for the sex and he didn’t care who he fucked over in the process. He’s hurt a lot of people in pursuit of his own desires, but with you…”

He pauses once more, his hands gripping mine a little firmer. As if to drive his point home. 

“... With you he’s been so different. But if he ever does anything to hurt you again I don’t think I could forgive him. I love him too much to let him make that mistake and I love you too much to let him treat you that way…”

At first I think he’s saying he loves me like a sister-in-law, but when he looks at me he continues speaking.

“... Over the past seven months, when Colby got distant with you, when we started spending everyday together hanging out, that’s when I fell for you. When you came home from that event sobbing I wanted to hit him, seeing you upset because of him, drove me insane. I love you and I just wanted to say it out loud once.”

His admission causes my heart to skip a beat and for shock to reach my face. For a few minutes neither of us speaks as we study each other closely. I don’t know what has brought this on, but I knew that we didn’t have the time to get into this now. I knew that I didn’t feel the same way about him. Even if he was one of the best people I’d ever known, Colby was my person and nothing was going to change that. 

“Sam, I’m sorry. I-”

I attempt to say, but he cuts me off with a small smile.

“I know you love him and I know that it was wrong for me to get those feelings. I will deal with my shit, but I just wanted you to know because keeping it to myself had been really fucking hard Emilia.”

I smile back at him and give his hands a firm squeeze this time. Sam had become the brother I always wanted and I felt bad that this had happened. But I was glad that he understood how I felt. 

“I already told Colby.”

He rasps quietly, his eyes on the ground in shame. I feel my stomach drop for a moment as I try to mentally picture how my husband handled that conversation. 

“Oh?”

Is all I can manage in response, my eyes searching Sam’s face for any sort of indication of how it went. Especially since Colby hadn’t bothered to tell me what his best friend and adopted brother had said. Sam sighs moving his hands from mine to swoop his bangs to the side, exposing a black and blue fist sized bruise on the side of his head. My jaw drops as my hands move to my mouth in shock. I only get a good look at it for a second before he swoops his bangs back into place. 

“I’m sorry he hurt you.”

I manage softly, his shoulders shrugging like it’s no big deal. 

“Can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same thing if another guy who was close with my wife told me he was in love with her. I’m sorry to spring things on you. I just had to get it off of my chest.”

I give him another small smile as Celina’s voice carries up the stairs, my eyes meeting hers at the bottom when I look around Sam. 

“Get down here you two.”

He breathes a sigh and extends his arm to link with mine so we can go down the stairs. When I link with him, he makes sure to slowly guide me down the stairs. 

“You know I’m not that pregnant that I can’t manage the stairs.”

I whisper to him, with a playful grin on my face. He rolls his eyes and smiles back. 

“You’re literally carrying precious cargo. I’m not risking you tripping down these stairs. I’m already on Colby’s shit list and that’s the last thing I need.”

I can’t help but laugh at the logic, a deep hearty laugh that I needed to release after that brief moment of tension up stairs. A laugh that Sam returns. However, my husband’s face looks less enthused when we reach the bottom of the stairs and he sees us both cracking up. Jealousy seems to find a home in his eyes when Sam and I unlink arms and I make my way over to him. He stares at his brother for a few seconds before leaning down to press his lips to mine. Pulling my body in against his as he deepens the kiss. Putting on a show in front of his brother as if to say ‘she’s mine’. I break the kiss when I realize what he’s doing and our eyes meet. 

“Colbs. Everyone already knows who I belong to.”

I whisper just for him to hear, his eyes fixated on me. His breathing is uneven and I can see the lust burning deep within him. He likes it when I say that I belong to him, likes it even better when I say it and he’s deep inside of me. I smirk up at him, through innocent eyes that seem to taunt him. 

“Baby, you’re playing a dangerous game…”

He growls back at me, as quietly as I had spoken moments before.

“... When this meeting is over. I’m going to fuck you so hard you never doubt who you belong to.”

A chill moves up my spine at his words, but I don’t let any physical reaction show as I take a step back. I look over my shoulder, into the living room and sigh when I look at his friends who’d come today. All of them were doing their own thing, Sam just now joining them. I didn’t know why Colby had invited Corey, Johnnie, Jake, and Nate, but I didn't question it. He told me not to, so I didn’t. I knew that I needed to keep my head down and focus on our baby, not whatever was up his sleeve. 

“Hey Kris and Celina?”

Colby asks, the two girls moving from the living room where everyone else is. Joining us as Colby takes a step back from me. 

“Do you think you two could distract my wife for a few hours? I have an important meeting I’m going to be holding in my office. I don’t want her getting any ideas about eavesdropping.”

He shoots me a playful look before turning his attention to the girls. They answer him back with friendly ‘sures’ and he gives me one last kiss on the forehead before going into the living room. He tells the guys they’re going to be going into his office and they all leave without so much as a second glance. Leaving us all alone. 

“Anyone feel like that was a little sexist?”

Kris jokes, Celina and I laughing. It felt weird for sure. Why would I need to be distracted? Was this work related? What did he need to talk about that I couldn’t hear about? I tried to consider that maybe he was just trying to keep me from stressing out and that’s why he didn’t want me near the meeting. I look at the girls and smile. I can’t think of what to say to them, suddenly feeling awkward, so I decide to try and get out of the house. 

“Anyone want to go for a walk? I’ve lived here for over a year and I still haven’t seen all of the grounds. It might be nice to make this place feel more like a home.” 

Celina looks from me to Kris with a look of suspicion. Knowing full well that this home felt more like a museum I was forced to stay in than a real home. 

“We can, but I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me.” 

Celina says, her eyes narrowing at me for a moment. She can see right through me and I’m too excited to not say anything. 

“I’m pregnant.” 

I say with a small smile, hoping they don’t judge me too harshly. They might not have said it out loud, but I’d seen the looks they’d give Colby when he was an ass. They’d seen the way that he treated me and they’d seen how hard this adjustment had been. Now, having a baby just took that adjustment up several notches. 

They both look at me in genuine shock. Both faces look serious as they process what I’ve said. Something that makes me wish I hadn’t said anything at all. My smiles fades and I look at the two of them feeling any joy I felt flee. 

“Is he going to step up?” 

Is all Kris asks, her face slightly more sympathetic now that she sees how the joy I’d been feeling has faded. 

“He says that he is.” 

My voice replies, sounding small and slightly ashamed. They probably thought I was ridiculous for being excited for even a moment. They knew that our relationship had been volatile at times. They knew that the main focus of our relationship was sex, but they didn’t know that it was loving too. That was something that we hadn’t been great at showing others, it was even harder when Colby pulled his latest bullshit. I realize they were right to be weary and I have to remind myself to be weary too. I have to remind myself that he still needed to prove himself to me. 

“He better or Sam might kill him...”

Celina states, more to herself than anyone else, a statement that earns a look from Kris. A look that tells me they were well aware of how Sam felt about me.

“Did he tell you guys?”

I ask, my voice unable to hide the shock I feel. Did everyone know about this before I did?

“...We’re really close friends and we have been for the past five years. Colby’s always been distant and doing his own thing, but Sam is the reason we started working here. He’s the only one who’s ever taken the time to actually talk to us and not just boss us around.” 

Mentally, I think back to every interaction Colby has had with both Kris and Celina and realize, to my horror, that they were right. He didn’t treat them like friends, even if he let them come over and spend time with me or Sam. He kept everyone at arm’s length until he needed something from them. A thought that I’d had on more than one occasion. 

About my own relationship with him.

“I’m sorry.”

I whisper, feeling selfish and idiotic. I couldn’t understand how I could quickly forget his shortcomings. Was I willingly allowing him to treat the people I cared about like this? What would I do if he was like this with our child? 

“You don’t need to say sorry. We’re sorry for being negative. We are happy for you and I know that you’re going to be an amazing mom.We just want him to be better for you.”

Kris says this hopefully, as if her words can take away the mixed emotions falling over me. My eyes meet both of the women standing in front of me, their eyes more sympathetic with fake encouragement laced on their face and suddenly I don’t want to hangout with anyone anymore. Regardless of what Kris had just said to me. Suddenly I just want to go upstairs and cry myself to sleep. 

–

Everyone leaves eight hours later. 

The house is eerily quiet as I stood in the kitchen all alone. I’d sent Celina and Kris home for dinner, along with our kitchen staff. I didn’t like relying on other people to do everything for me. It didn’t feel right, I used to cook for my dad every night. I used to clean for fun (all while listening to my cleaning playlist on my phone). I used to do so much more than be a doll who dressed up and did what she was told. So I stood in the kitchen with cooked jumbo shells and a bowl of ricotta filling. It had been so long since I made stuffed shells and it made me think of my dad. It was his favorite thing I cooked. The thought of him tugs at my heartstrings, my eyes watering as I fill the shells up and start lining them in the pan. I hum to myself to fill the silence and fall into a steady pace as I fill the pan. Once I’ve filled it with the shells, I open the tomato sauce and cover the shells and add the mozzarella on top. I slide the food into the oven and breathe a deep sigh.

“Okay, now it just needs to cook for 25 minutes.”

I whisper to myself, my focus turning to the sink behind me. I begin to wash the dishes I’ve dirtied when I hear a loud sound come from behind me. The sound of voices shouting from behind a closed door. I want to investigate but know that I can’t leave the food unwatched. I breathe another deep sigh and dry my hands off. Grabbing the pot holders I slide them on and take the food out of the oven. Once it’s safely out and set on top of the stove I investigate the sound of shouting I’d heard before. 

Down the long corridor connecting that leads out of the kitchen is Colby’s office door, which is where the sounds of shouting were coming from. The rest of the guests had left over an hour ago, but Sam had remained in the office. From where I am standing I can’t quite make out what is being said, but the muffled voices are booming from the otherside. Out of curiosity I place my ear against the door, my focus on whatever words I can pick up. 

“This will work Sam!”

Colby’s voice sounds like venom when he speaks, each letter biting.

“If we follow the plan then Emilia’s father will be safe. We just have to get him to the safe house.  If we take away the leverage they have over her then that’s a start. We just have to plan how it won’t get tracked back to us.”

I feel my heart start to beat in my chest when I hear the sound of Colby’s voice talking about my father. What were they planning? I hear Sam sigh, his voice tired as if they’d gone over what to do for hours.

“I think the plan of attack needs to come from me. Mom and dad have always been blind to any of the things I’ve done that are unsavory. They act like I'm an angel or something, but it’s my fault that we are even in this position in the first place.” 

My heartbeat quickens when I hear him say this. From the other side of the door I hear Colby breathe a deep sigh. A dangerous growl that seems to indicate that he’s on the verge of losing it on his brother. 

“What the hell are you talking about?”

He asks Sam in confusion. Sam lets out a bitter laugh, like he’s uncomfortable with what he’s going to admit to.

“Mom and dad let it slip that someone stole money from them. They needed someone to scare the person who owed them money. They didn’t go to you because they’ve been pissed at you since you went blabbing to some reporter when you were drunk at the bar. So, they sent me out. Gave me a gun that is identical to a real gun and I broke into some guy's house and intended on scaring him into paying mom and dad back. His daughter came home and started begging for me not to hurt him. She’d just come home from a night class and she looked so fucking scared and I didn’t mean to scare her. But then she offered herself up to spare his life and I had an idea. Mom and dad had been planning to put you in an arranged marriage for months and when I saw her. This beautiful, green-eyed, sweet little thing I knew that she would be perfect for you.”

I feel sick hearing Sam speak. The night replaying in my mind. The night I’d come home and saw a masked man with a gun to my father’s head. The blue eyes that had looked back at me as I offered myself up to save my dad. The man who laughed in my face and told me he knew what he was going to do with me was Sam. 

The Sam that held me through the roughest moments of my life. Who’d become my best friend here. The man who’d told me he was in love with me hours ago. He was the reason I was here now. He was the reason I entered into this marriage. He was the reason for all of it and it made me sick. Because I trusted him more than anything and he’d done this. I cover my mouth to hold in the tears that escape me. 

“You helped cause all of this?”

Colby asks in disbelief. Shock is laced into his words and I can only imagine the look he’s giving his brother. Whatever he’s doing Sam is quick to defend himself. 

“You should be thanking me. Honestly, she’s perfect for you and for our family. When I saw her I knew you’d like her. She’s your type only better because she’s not a random skank who is going to ruin our family’s image. She’s perfect, beautiful, kind, and you wouldn’t be with her had I not made an executive decision.”

I feel sick. My stomach turns and I don’t know how to feel. Yes, I’d met the love of my life because of Sam. But my dad, my entire world, was getting hurt because of it. I keep my mouth covered as Sam speaks again. 

“Remember what I did for you the next time your fucking her sweet little pussy. Remember what I did for you whenever the tabloids have something nice to say about you for once. And remember that, had it not been for me, you would’ve ended up with someone who wouldn’t have played by the rules. Our sweet little Emilia is the only one who could’ve gotten us here. She’s bringing new life to our family and it’s all because I made it so.” 

The way he says our makes the hair on my neck stand on end. Like they both own me. With shaking hands I go to grab the door knob, my hand resting on the cold gold for a moment. Colby says something harsh to Sam, but I can’t bring myself to listen to the words. Instead, I move my hand from the door knob and walk away. 

Clinging to the wall of the corridor I retreat back to the kitchen. I put the food back into the oven and stood there in utter shock. I hear the office door open and the shouting resumes, but travels away from me. As if Colby is kicking Sam out for the night. The front door slams so loud that it almost feels like the house is going to crumble around it. I tremble as I hear Colby’s feet travel down the hallway. 

“My love?”

He calls, when he’s unsure of where I’ve gone. With a shaking breath I reply out of fear of worrying him. 

“I’m in the kitchen.”

I call back lifelessly. All I can do is think of Sam’s eyes. Now when I picture his pale blue eyes I can see it. 

I can see that night. 

How could I not see it before? How could I have spent so much time being with him and getting to know him and not see it? We’d spent nearly every day together for well over a year and I had no idea. He had been so scared the night he found the severed ear of my father. He had held me through any of the loneliness I’d felt with Colby. And he’d been so kind to me whenever I needed it, but it was him. This entire thing happened because he was doing what mommy and daddy wanted him to do. He’d threatened my dad and used me as collateral for his family image. Used my dad as leverage for whenever I didn’t do as I was told. Suddenly I didn’t know if I could ever face Sam again. How could he have said he loved me earlier when he’d done all of this? All of this without telling me? Maybe we could’ve moved past this if he’d been honest with me from the beginning, before the maiming of my father. Before he’d got his hooks in me and befriended me. I can’t stop the tears from hitting me, even as Colby enters the room, his eyes finding me. Without saying a word he knows that I know everything that was said. He can tell that I’m utterly devastated and betrayed. The same look that he wears on his face mirrors mine. We’d both been played by Sam. 

“Emilia-I-I’m so sorry-”

I cut him off by placing my hand in front of me, gesturing for him to stop. He sounds so broken when he speaks and the tears in his eyes are legitimate as he takes a step forward. Without saying anything I pull him in for a hug and bury my head in his chest. I hold onto him tightly as if hugging him could take away the pain of this newest discovery. He holds onto me too, his head on top of mine.

“... It’s okay baby. I’ve got you. I’ve got both of you.”

His nod to our unborn child makes my heart swell, my arms squeezing him firmly. We remain like this for several minutes before I dare to pull back and look at him. His blue eyes are filled with concern as we look at each other. He’s unsure of what to do or say. 

Because he knew nothing he said could change what happened. 

“I’m cooking dinner.” 

I rasp when I can’t think of anything else to say. I didn’t even know how to unpack every single emotion washing over me. He gives me the smallest smile and places his hands on either side of my face, his thumbs brushing the stray tears away. 

“How much of that did you hear?”

He asks. 

“From when you started talking about a safe house for my father. I heard what Sam said. I heard all of it.”

A nod is all he gives me at first as he mulls over what to say next. 

“He’s going to be staying with some friends for the time being. I told him we both need space to process everything.”

It’s my turn to nod and process. Suddenly I’m thankful that he’s being level headed for the both of us. We both felt betrayed and it was all so raw right now. Space would be the best thing for everyone involved. Even though a small part of me wanted to slap him for saying what he said and doing what he did. 

“Now, what do you need from me?”

He asks, trying to do whatever he can to help me through this. I pondered the question for a moment before deciding on what I needed at this moment. Here, in his arms and with these feelings that felt like they were going to break me into a thousand pieces, I needed a distraction. I needed him to distract me and make me feel something else. 

Anything else but this.

“I need you.”

The desperation in my voice gives my desires away immediately. For a second my husband looks down at me in confusion, only to replace the expression with a dark look of desire.

“How do you need me?”

He asks, his voice deeper as he leans down to press his lips to mine. He deepens the kiss instantly, his tongue in my mouth. I can feel that he needs this distraction too. That he’s hurting as much as I am and in need of reprieve. I feel his hands move to my waist as he lifts me up off of the floor to the counter top. He spreads my jean covered legs apart and stands between them as his hands find my hair. His lips never seem to leave mine, not even when he needs to take a breath. 

“I need you to fuck me, so hard I never doubt that it’s you I belong to.”

Repeating his prior words towards me is enough to send him spinning. He pulls my body in against his, removing what little space had been between the both of us. The way his hands tangle in my hair and the gentle pull they give me is almost too much to bear. I can feel myself getting wetter the longer we remain like this. 

“How long does that have to cook for?”

He asks, wanting to know how long we have before the oven interrupts us. I can’t help but giggle when he says this, amused by the question. An action that causes him to groan against my lips. 

“20 minutes.”

Is all I reply as he lifts me off of the kitchen counter. He guides us to the kitchen table, staring down at me for a moment before his hands move to the button of my jeans. He undoes them and slowly drags them down my body, pulling them off with my pair of oxfords. My clothing gets tossed to the floor without any consideration, his hands moving to my underwear. A smirk finds his lips when he sees how wet I am. 

“Fuck.”

He groans when he pulls the underwear down my legs, eyes fixated on my arousal. The care he’d put into tossing my clothing away is the same with my underwear, adding them to the pile. I can’t look away from him as he watches me. Quietly debating what he wants to do next. He turns his attention to the sweater I was still wearing. He gets on top of me on the table, his lips finding mine once more as he kisses me, I feel the ghost of his hands moving the sweater up my torso. He’s so gentle as he does this that it causes a chill to move up my spine. Goose bumps form on my arms as he pulls my sleaves off of me. He pauses his kisses long enough to lift the sweater over my head and off of my body. I hear the fabric fall to the floor, and I can’t help but whimper at the loss of his lips as he starts to kiss down my neck. His lips travel down my throat and to my chest, kissing up to the valley between my breasts. 

Our eyes lock as he uses his teeth to unclasp the front of my strapless bra, removing the last peice of fabric on my body. Once the bra is gone he continues kissing down the valley of my breasts, stopping on ly when he decides to give my left nipple attention. He uses his mouth to suck the sensitive bud of my breast, his free hand carefully messaging the other breast. My body arches into him as he does this relentless assult on my breasts. I knew if this lasted too much longer I would cum. 

He knew it too.

Which is why I am not surprised when he stills his actions and gets off of me. I look at him, my chest rising and falling as he moves his hands to his black button up. 

“Can you touch yourself while I undress baby doll?”

He asks, his eyes on me as he waits for me to do as I’ve been told. Realizing he won’t undress himself until I’ve done as I’d been instructed. I slowly moved my hands down my torso, our eyes never leaving one another. My hands reach down to my slick sex. He unbuttons one button and waits until I’ve dipped my index finger into my wet folds before resuming. I can’t help but moan at the sensation of finger fucking myself. It was the same as when he did it, but I was so sensitive that even my fingers offered some relief.

But only some.

“Hmm, that’s my girl.”

He practically purrs as he finally completely undoes my shirt. The fabric finding its place in the pile on the floor. 

“Add another finger baby.”

He speaks in a lower register. His hands on his jean button.  My heart skip a beat as I add another finger, anothe rmoan escapes me. I slowly pump my fingers in and out of myself. The entire time I do this I can’t help but think about how much better this would feel if it was his fingers inside of me. My eyes flutter closed as I bring myself closer to the edge. His pants fall to the ground and I hear his shoes lightly thud to the floor. 

“That’s enough baby. Daddy doesn’t want you to cum until I’ve had my chance to play with you.”

His hands still my actions and before I truly have to process it. His lips are on mine once more. His hands pulling my fingers away from where I need them the most. I whimper at the loss of them. The loss only lasts for a moment before I feel the tip of his hardened cock at the entrance of my soaked sex. I make make sure to open my eyes and stare directly at Colby as he slowly sinks his hardened length inside of me. His jaw clenches and his lips part as he pushes himself as far as he can inside of me. A small gasp of pleasure escapes me the moment he’s inside of me. 

“Colby.”

I whisper his name, unable to say or think of anyone else. He chuckles, knowing all too well that he’s scrambled my mind before even moving inside of me. He pushes his lips back to mine as he guides his hands to either side of my lips. He lifts me up slightly  and starts to move. His thrusts are careful as my elevated hips allow for him to hit deeper inside of me. 

With every thrust I feel like I could cum without warning. Every movement felt euphoric. After a while I can feel myself moving to meet his thrusts. My body in desperate need of a resolution to my climax. Careful groans pass his lips as he soaks me in, savoring each second he’s inside of me. 

“Does my sweet little wife need to cum?”

He mumbles against my lips in between kisses. I hum in response when I can’t think of actual words to say. Which earns a hum from him in response. He quickens his pace. With each thrust he’s sloppier and sloppier as our bodies both reach our highs aand we come undone. 

We cum together. Both of us falling into a heap of breathlessness. 

Neither of us speaks as we collect ourselves. Both of our bodies tired from the range of emotions we’d felt today. He smiles down at me sweetly, his eyes flicking over to the stove before returning back to me. 

“How about we eat what you cooked, have some sparkingling grape juice, since someone is preventing you from drinking, and watch a show?”

He lightly places his hand on my stomach when he mentions our unborn child as the reason for drinking grape juice. He stares down at my stomach in wonder. I don’t think it had hit him that we were expecting. It still didn’t feel real to me either. Something that I knew would change as my body changed. Without speaking he places his lips on my stomach, giving me a soft kiss.

“I love you little one. I promise to be a better parent than what I had.”

He looks up at me and smiles once more. He looks so genuinely happy and it’s enough to make my eyes fill with tears. Was Sam right? Should we be thanking him for bringing us together? Where would we be if he never did what he did? Its an unbearable thought. 

I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

But even still, I couldn’t just forgive him. Colby might’ve been an ass at times, but he was always up front with me about who he was. He never tried to hide it. 

Even when I wished he would’ve.

Sam’s betrayal stung because he’d hidden this from me. Even when I overheard him speaking to Colby he didn’t sound like the Sam I’d gotten to know. I look at Colby, blinking back the tears as he helps me up off of the table, his hands careful and cautious. 

“I would really like that Colby.”

I whisper as I think of how much we both needed a night of normalcy. After everything that happened today, we deserved a nice relaxing night in. But I couldn’t shake the fear of what tomorrow could bring. 

The fear of a new day and whatever Hell could come with it.

#colby brock #colby brock fanfic #colby brock smut #sam and colby #sam and colby smut #sam and colby fanfiction #colby brock imagine #colby x reader

[glystenangel]

how the jjk men celebrate nye with you

satoru gojo, getou suguru, kamo choso, nanami kento x gn!reader

tags/warnings: fluffy fluffy fluff, modern city vibes, they all love you, just accept it, petname usage, kissing!!!!, handholding, one mention of alcohol, and once again, LOVE, short n sweet

thanks for reading and enjoy &lt;3

Gojo ------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Okay, I think we’re good.”

Gojo shuts the door behind you, and you carefully hold onto his free hand. The roof was a little higher than you thought it would be.

“Are we? It’s kinda scary up here.” You had gone up multiple flights of stairs, and now there was a blanket of city lights at your feet. Of course they were separated by concrete barriers that outlined the entire roof, but still.

Gojo brings your hand to his lips, peering up at you over the curves of your knuckles.

“Don’t worry, I got a good hold on you.”

Your heart flutters, but you resolutely tug your hand back down.

“We have to save the kissing for midnight. It’s almost time.”

“My bad, thought I could sneak one in. You looked like you wanted one.” He smirks, blue eyes reflecting every golden window and traffic light below.

When you don’t argue back, too focused on the curled corner of his lip, he releases a thoughtful hum, “I suppose you always look like that. Especially when you’re with me.”

Gojo had the terrible habit of making your heart squeeze just by existing, all cocky remarks and pretty pale features.

“You can’t! I think it’s bad luck or something.” You insist, trying to return to the task at hand as midnight drew nearer.

Gojo laughs, but before he can retort you see fireworks dazzling the sky.

“Happy new year!” You hear confetti poppers and happy shouts from the apartment floors you just climbed.

You turn to Gojo, and the smile that spreads up to his eyes brightens his entire face. It disappears when he kisses you, but the love you have for each other never does.

When you pull apart, he gives you another peck on the nose.

“Happy new year, love.”

Getou-----------------------------------------------------------------------

“Oh no, I think we missed it!” You call out as you look out the car window, watching bursts of fiery purple and red light up the slats of night sky you could see between the concrete pillars of the parking structure you were driving up.

Getou eases his foot off of the gas pedal and snakes a solid grip around your waist, tucking his chin into your shoulder for a peek at the fireworks you’re frowning over. The scent of his cologne and the strength of his arm are comforting, but the disappointment remains leaden in your stomach.

“Aw, shit. I’m sorry, baby.” Getou sympathetically rubs a circle into your side with his thumb.

You glance at the rearview mirror, the corner of it revealing your sullen look along with the long, black tresses of Getou’s hair pressed to the back of your neck as he tries to comfort you. He always did his best to right any upset incurred upon you by the world, but it wasn’t his fault. A half-hearted shake of your head eases a sigh into your body, and you nudge Getou to continue the trek up the parking structure. You shift in your seat to mournfully stare at the champagne glasses you had precariously balanced between your fingers, you had been hoping to toast to the new year with him once you were parked at the top.

Getou finally brakes and puts the car in park, and you let out a small groan upon checking the time displayed on his dashboard.

“We just missed it.” You sadly declare, the clock showing 12:03 on its digital face.

Getou takes a fluted glass from you, “It’s okay, as long as I get next year with you.”

The charmed smile you provide him is reflected in the adoration on his face. He looks genuine, broad shoulders relaxed below the gauges that adorn his ears and a hand casually draped over your thigh as he uses the other to level his champagne. 

You scoot closer and place a hand over his, which he automatically grasps, “And the year after that?”

“And the year after that, the year after that…and the year after that.” Getou confirms, raising his glass and allowing a pleased smirk to cross his features when you brighten.

He pauses for a moment, his eyes ghosting over your lips as carefully as his thumb had when he first kissed you.

“You know what? Let’s call it forever.”

Your lips gratefully meet his before you pull back to clink the rims of glass together, matching your devoted gaze to the blissful glimmer of his own.

“To forever.”

Choso-----------------------------------------------------------------------

You want a New Year’s kiss from Choso, but you’ve pretty much accepted that your wish wouldn’t be coming true. Because you’re spending your first New Year’s Eve together at his family’s house.

His mother had insisted, and although you saw his family as your own now, it felt a bit awkward to be kissing in front of them.

You are still a bit saddened by the thought as you and Choso stand outside of his childhood home with his little brothers and mom. Everyone is standing side by side, preparing to welcome the new year by lighting handfuls of sparklers and confetti poppers onto the patch of dirt in the backyard.

“It’s almost time, ready?” Choso glances at his watch, holding up a red sparkler in the other.

His little brothers begin chattering excitedly, and you watch them with a small beam across your features.

Choso subtly wraps a large hand around your waist, pulling you closer.

“Hey, still thinking about our new year’s kiss?”

On the car ride over, you had explained the predicament to him, so he must have recalled how important it was to you. 

You soften at his question and how he slightly bends down to hear you, “A little.”

A reassuring smile takes over Choso’s handsome face, the corners of his opaque eyes slightly crinkling, “Don’t worry, I got you.”

You want to ask him how, but then he begins counting down.

His mother joins in, “10…9, 8 - come on boys, count!”

A disjointed chorus erupts, everyone counting slowly until the last second, where lit sparklers and confetti poppers shoot out celebratory glitter.

As the small, colorful cuts of tissue paper crowd over his younger brothers whooping with joy, you turn to Choso and he leans close. The dark line across his nose and loose strands from his hair tickle the side of your face.

“Everyone’s distracted.” He whispers, and you smile into the soft kiss he grants you.

Choso does his best to quickly pull away before you two are noticed, “Happy new year, baby.”

You want to tug him forward for another kiss, but manage to just barely resist, “Happy new year, Choso.”

He picks confetti out of your hair and gives you a more innocent peck on the forehead, “I love you.”

“I love you too-”

Right when you say it back, his family ropes you both into a big group hug.

“Happy new year!” They scream, and you both laugh into their embrace.

Nanami---------------------------------------------------------------------

As usual, Nanami is working late. 

The holidays hardly deterred his appetite for overtime pay.

You didn’t mind it, but a twinge of sadness occupied your thoughts as you watched the ball drop on television. It made you wrap your arms around yourself and bend your knees towards your chest, the spot on the couch next to you vacant.

The timer hits 10 seconds, and the live audience starts chanting.

“10!”

You hear a knock on the door.

“9…8!”

“Nanami!” You exclaim, pushing the door aside and scanning his snow dusted coat.

“7! 6! 5!” The tv chimes.

The blond man is breathing heavily, and you feel his hands slide down to your lower back as his suitcase drops onto the floor, “Did I make it?”

“4! 3…”

Your adoring expression compliments his tired, yet soft gaze. The taut clench of his jaw and the urgency he holds you with almost makes you laugh, but your heart is fluttering too much to tease him for his valiant efforts.

“You’re right on time.”

Right as the countdown ends at 1, you wrap your arms around his neck, dipping his head down to give him a kiss.

As fireworks and noisemakers sound from the tv, Nanami breaks away to trace your face with his fingers and a breathtaking smile, “Happy new year, honey.”

“Happy new year!” 

You cradle his face in your palms for another kiss.

Nanami returns it just as tenderly as the first, but then he shivers.

“I’m sorry, honey. Can we continue this inside? It’s freezing."

________________

End Notes:

A surprise post for new year's and just out of gratitude bc i luv u guys <333 wishing you all a happy one and an even better new year!!🥳🪩 love always💖

#jjk fluff #jjk imagines #jjk scenarios #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #gojo imagine #gojo fluff #gojo scenario #gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #satoru gojo #gojo jjk #getou jjk #getou suguru #getou suguru x you #geto x you #geto x reader #geto x y/n #getou x you #getou x reader #getou fluff #choso fluff #choso scenarios #kamo choso #choso x y/n #choso x reader #choso x you #jjk choso

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

🍕to find this later

Aita: i called the pizza my husband was eating nasty

For some context, this will seem random but it may factor into emotions right now

My husbands best friend just moved in with us 3 days ago

My mother in laws dog was diagnosed with cancer today, and will be put down tomorrow. Everyone is very heartbroken

We were in the car after getting some groceries and my husband mentioned he was thinking of picking up pizza since he knows no one has eaten much today and definitely wont feel like cooking

I dont like pizza much, i especially dont like little caesers, im very very open about this and always have been. If im ever given a choice i never choose little caesers, but if i am hungry enough ill eat a slice or two.

We all have really dark senses of humor and often poke fun of each other and of each other's interests and laugh it off no big deal. We do this daily

So I'm sitting in the bedroom playing games, my husband and his best friend are hanging out in the living room. My husband comes over to the bedroom and says hey Im going to pick up pizza Ill be right back

Time passes and the pizza comes and everyone goes and sits at the dining room table to eat. Theres three boxes, two different types of pizza, my husbands favorite, stuffed crust, and my usual favorite thin crust. Everyones talking and I don't remember exactly what was said but my husband mentions something about thin crust my favorite or something like that. I say something like "actually with little ceasers i prefer the normal pizza the thin crust doesnt have much sauce and i like the sauce". I finish eating and get on to my handheld console and keep playing my game, half paying attention to the conversation. At some point, I honestly don't remember at all what I said or what was being said, but I remember vaguely my husband saying the box they got is "normal pizza" and i said no its not his is stuffed crust which is nasty. I was being playful, i dont like pizza to begin with, i like the crust even less, and stuffed crust just really really isnt my thing.

A few minutes later i notice my phone has a notification, i look to see a text from my husband saying I was being rude because his friend paid for the food.

I was at first extremely confused, was me playing games at the table rude? They were using their phones while eating and talking so i didnt think so. Was it because i said i didnt like the thin crust? At this point i genuinely dont remember saying the stuffed crust is nasty and dont understand what i did wrong. I text him back asking what he was talking about and he says that i called the food nasty. I thought about it and vaguely recall saying it Playfully but again i was paying attention to my game and not so much to what was being said so i dont even remember for sure.

I got really upset and kind of mad, I had just been joking and i never say ugly things to people ever so it hurt that he assumed i ment the worst.

Even then there had been absolutely no way for me to know his friend bought it. He told me he was thinking of buying pizza then he said he was going to pick it up. Plus it happened to be my and his favorite pizzas so it seemed like he picked them. I had been in a different room there was no way i could of known what they planned or who paid or anything.

Plus whenever he buys or cooks food i always tell him his is gross or nasty or w/e Playfully. And he calls my food gross too. We joke like this all the time.

And even still, weve been together for three years and weve known each other longer than that. He knows i dont like pizza. He knows i dont like crusts. Its not a strange thing for me to be vocal about it. In faxt itd be strange if i didnt because like ive mentioned we Always poke fun of each other's foods and of each other.

And maybe this is just a me thing but. I dont feel like its rude to call something like little caesers nasty, especially around people who know i dont like it? Itd be one thing if it was a strangers cooking id say something polite like "i dont think its for me" or just say it was good if i wont see them again. Or if i was at someone's house and they bought pizza for everyone. But for all intents and purposes it seemed like my husband bought it and, i cant stress enough how normal it is for us to pick fun at each others foods. He makes fun of my subway order all the time. I always call little caesers gross.

I dont know if feelings are just tense because the beloved family pet passed

Or if he's feeling extra defensive of his friend since he just barely moved in

Or if im in the wrong entirely for being upset and it actually is highly rude of me. Though. I genuinely dont understand since we make fun of each others food all the time. So if i am the asshole can people please try to explain why because i genuinely dont understand what made this different to him saying the black olives on my subway are gross. Or me normally saying little caesers is gross. Like i really dont get whats different so id really appreciate an explanation

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole #pet death cw

[vsyrworld]

get to know my favorite driver's ship

this was made by me and for me and i wrote fanfic about them!!!

(fyi; i started watching f1 in 2015 so ofc you guys KNOW what my FIRST and ULTIMATE ship)

(older f1 ships: )

Brocedes :D (childhood friends, teammates, rivals, anything but a lover - crofty 2021)

OH COME ON. I will write an essay about their history. BUT ANYWAY, despite their toxic year in 2015/2016, I still adore how young nico and lewis friendship or whatever they had in Greece back then and I still keep this ship alive until the 2021 season. Their battle on the track was BEYOND TOXIC, yet their battle off the track (media drama) is HILLAARIOUS. How come Lewis accidentally spills out, the name that shouldn't be spoken for Half of DECADE. God both of them are dramas king. NICO PODCAST omg the talk with Alain prost and they compared his vs Senna battle with HIS AND Lewis's battle PLUS when Nico's storytelling his "friendship" history in ITALY at the SPONSOR EVENTS *CRIED* and lewis always mentioned how he loves ice cream and do cheating day in imola and monza BECAUSE IT WAS NICO WHO INTRODUCE THE FOOD THERE. ugh I hate and love them at the same time. (I do include some Seb/NICO too because I like see Lewis getting rilled up)

2. Kimi and Seb (I ADORE THIS A LOT)

my calm and serenity wise iconic ferrari couple. I feel like Kimi was the rock ice and water for Seb to prevent him from burnout because of ferrari. during 2017-2018, Seb pushed hard (same like Charles) and yet the car reliability fuck his championship standing. and kimi (--kimi was the last ferrari champion hiks) kimi just so attentive to seb and I genuinely like both of them being rebels to whole ferrari tradition (like they don't do rollercoaster thingy, they DON'T master Italian, they just become their self and being so comfortable in their own bubble, fuck world). I had noticed also Seb (and Gio) is the only teammate that can make Kimi laugh. I just super super adore them!

3. Maxiel (TRADITIONALSHIP! I REFUSE OTHER SHIP FOR MAX BESIDE DANIEL. I REFUSE!)

ugh should I explain them? THE CHAOTIC GAYEST ENERGY IN WHOLEEE 2016 GRIDS COME ON. I love how Daniel basically took young rookie Max under his arm and just had fun on and off the track with It? The biggest flop was when Max was just so hotheaded and they crashed in Baku. I thought their relationship gonna be stranded but GUESS WHAT? MAXIEL IS STILL ALIVE UNTIL NOW HELLO? and their relationship is so real not only for the camera but also out the camera. The other highlight moment is when Max is already 'too big' daniel really steps down from RBR because he knows, Max will outshine him, and he knows (what he learned from brocedes too) that it's better to go the other way.

(newer)

4. Dando (COMFORT SHIIP Not romantically also)

I thought daniel was max soulmate but LANDO excuse me? They can share daniel If they want. i just love how lando becomes so silly and blushes like school teenager around Daniel. i love how they INFLUENCE each other. I think because I feel nostalgic with them because they really similar with Maxiel in 2017 era, just one season before Daniel goes to renault, Maxiel was strained on thin paper. Dando other hands, well Daniel mostly, struggled in McLaren (with the papaya fans also still adore Carlos that time and refuse to let go him) plus Lando was shining bright just like Max 2016. Again, daniel he stepped OUT (this time). I guess, that similarity made me miss maxiel too.

5. last one C2 (Charlos) gosh, please!! ultimate!!!

loving and adoring them was expected though. It wasn't because they're both handsome (I already know Carlos was goofy ever since his Renault era so I never consider him as a handsome man) BUT DANG BOY, RED ON CARLOS WAS SOMETHING ELSE? RED ON CARLOS, BLACK ON CARLOS WAS SAKDAJSKDFHLKJSAFHKJAF.

-- okay back to the c2. It was a slow build okay? I realized that they are special during Carlos's first podium, Monaco 2021. Charles WAS LIKE ME. Blushing giggling, shy gazes toward Carlos. they are so endearing. Both of them are the victims of the Ferrari team. But I think they both understand each burden (Charles being the predestinated one, and Carlos had to prove his talent bcs he is a two times world champion son) plus, the way Ferrari screwed Charles in 2019. The team was cracked but with Carlos, I didn't expect this cursed team is heal :"D (Crying) and Charles become more relaxed, more enjoyed, even his coping mechanism is with laughter and Carlos just matches his energy. Idk , they gave me... a relationship through ups and downs.

and I realized there are so many people trying to pit them against each other, their fans are constantly arguing about who is the best and better driver, always dragging one of them down, but guess what is Carlos and Charles's response? it's completely differs from real life. They knew and fucking see it their fans tension. Carlos's anger to the Spanish media has already proven enough he had enough of these things. Charles also said in an interview that "what he saw about him and Carlos is nowhere true". they are the best PR relationship couple out there, but I also can see a genuine, how they know each other so weell. How Charles kept the football game updated just because of Carlos, how Carlos knows his favorite food, how they had their own internal jokes,

they are both soo lowkey on the camera during and outside the race. and I think that Is why people never hype them like carlando or everyone's favorite childhood rival to lovers lesttapen. And I thought they didn't really hang out with each other that much but WHAT WAS THAT SUMMER BREAK? HUH? YOU IN MALORCA AND WENT TO SOUTHERN FRENCH? What were the matching Instagram feeds color and aesthetic at New York? WHAT WAS THE THING ABOUT PASTA CARBONARA UN LUNGA NON PENNE? WHAT WAS THAT THING CHARLES SLEPT ON THE FLOOR just to accompany Carlos watching World Cup? The dolomites? The Sardinia?

there are soo many thing that they keep it so low-profile and under camera, and yet their conversation is so domestic.

#f1 drver #ships #brocedes #maxiel #simi #charlos #dando #charles leclerc #carlos sainz jr #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #max verstappen #daniel ricciardo #i haven mention the rest of 2019 rookie also but yeah I'm too tired to write maybe in pt2 #1655 #c2 #my rant

[thetrashbinseries]

— Fahrenheit ( bangchan x reader )

rated - mature | minors dni

parts - one, two (explicit)

warnings - idol universe, name changed idols, mature themes, drug use, alcohol use, sexual themes, mentions of mental illness, slight angst

x x x

“It’s not rocket science, Chris."

My annoyance hits the roof. What the hell is his problem? Why's he turning this into a damn soap opera?

"You're back in LA. New York—yes or no?"

Chris tiptoes the line ever since last year's scandal close shave. I get playing it safe, but I'm alone in a six-bedroom Jersey fortress. In the U.S. media game, I'm golden. No cancel threats, not yet in my rising career.

But the spotlight got hotter after the last single went viral. Chris, in the crosshairs of relentless management, dances a careful routine.

He's the big shot, leader of the world's hottest K-pop group. His company would shoot themselves in the foot by axing him. Yet, Mr. Libra doesn't dig rocking the boat.

"-I want to, babe, but it's too risky right now."

I sigh. Twisting my computer chair, neon lights bathe me in purples and reds. I'm in the studio, bullshitting on songs for the third album.

I've had it. "Catch you later, Chris." The call drops, facedown on the desk, anger swirling.

"Seriously, fuck you." I spit out, taking it personally.

Being a foreigner feels like the snag. His industry would call me a disgrace tagging along.

I don't need that energy.

Am I settling as his 'little secret'? I'm 29, he's 27 – grown folks. Pings remind me of him, but I silence the noise. Facetime interrupts, Jake, the friend with benefits. Games or busy, no time for emotional plays.

Warner signed my band, deep in commitments, mind racing. A shrink's gift? Adderall for my ADHD.

Now, even less time for the BS.

"Hey, daddy." I purr, thickening my accent.

Jake’s smile fades as he eyes me. "What?" I giggle,

"Stop playing with me like that, y/n."

"How am I playing with you?"

"You're gonna end up with your legs cocked back like last time, girl, cool it."

Laughter ensues. I glimpse his background – a parking garage stairwell. We catch up every couple of weeks via Facetime.

"Where are you at?" I squint.

"Recognize it?" Jake turns his phone, revealing the New York City skyline.

"You're out here? Aw, shit." I lean back in my chair, a half-cocked grin, tongue behind my lower lip.

"Aw, shit is right! What's up? What are you up to tonight?"

I chuckle, rolling my eyes. "Nah, uh, Jake. We gotta play nice. I got a good thing going on right now."

He sighs, exasperation audible. "You two still a thing? Thought you were photographed over there, outside the JYPE building?"

"I was."

"They ain't letting that fly, you serious, y/n?"

"I mean, they're being hard on him, but we're still trying to make it work." I express more hope than Chris does. Jake’s viewpoint is valid – he's been through the K-pop circuit, burned out, went solo, and found massive international success.

Which is why he bitches about it.

It's unfair.

"I do wanna see you, though," I admit, the need for an adventure kicking in.

"That's my girl. Hey, I'm about to hop in the car. Should be able to make it over in twenty. You at your spot in Jersey?"

"Yes, I am, Jake, but don't come in on no bullshit."

"I'm always on bullshit. See you in twenty."

Jake hangs up before I can fight back.

Why is my grin so wide? I roll my eyes at my own excitement, surprised at how genuinely thrilled I am to be around someone who wants to be with me. Scanning Chris's messages puts me in a better mood.

babydaddy: there’s no way you just hung up like that -_-

babydaddy: this is my life…my career…

babydaddy: why can't you be more patient?? this is hard for me too…

babydaddy: we need to talk tomorrow…

babydaddy: about us, and where this is going.

The last message triggers something in me. My stomach twists like it always does before bad news. It doesn't change, whether in poverty in my hometown or a small Jersey mansion. The same sunken gut reaction. We've been going back and forth, but this sounds... final. At some point, he'll grow sick of it. I know I have.

Yet, there's so much I love about Chris. Selfishly, I don't want him with anyone else. He's the man of my dreams, flawed as he is, he’s human. My human. I panic, feeling like my boat has sprung a leak, desperate to plug it somehow.

Knowing myself, I turn my phone upside down, placing it on my desk and stand up, distancing myself from the setting. Something else would trap me; all I want is not to reply to him with charged emotion. It wouldn't help anything.

Jake’s on his way over.

I take a deep breath, letting my anxiety settle. I'll talk to him; he always has good insight and wisdom beyond his years. I look at myself in the mirror. I'm in comfy mode, barefoot, walking across hardwood floors.

Entering the dimly lit kitchen, I brew hot chocolate, curling my toes against the balls of my feet, cracking knuckles as I chew my lower lip, mind drifting to Chris. Resistance is weaker now; the reasons to text back sound more convincing. I shake my head, trying to clear my mind, grab my cup, and sip as I walk past my bearded dragon's tank. It's late; he's asleep, tucked into his pink bed. I stare at each plant, trying to keep my thoughts in check.

My outdoor motion detection buzzes the smartwatch on my wrist, signaling someone's arrival. I glimpse headlights through my foyer. My grin widens; I bite my lip, urging myself to behave.

"Alexa, shuffle my evening playlist on Spotify, downstairs."

The nearest speaker obeys, filling the space with music. My dog scurries around my feet as the doorbell rings, and my bigger dog's deep barks echo throughout the house.

“Hey, cool it!" I shout at them, stepping over the little one weaving through my legs, nipping my ankles for some ungodly reason. I open the door, visibly exasperated, while my larger dog bellows from the top of the stairs.

Jake points to her behind me, furrowing his brows dramatically. "I thought we were friends!"

My dog hurls another final, loud bark before slowly making her way down the stairs. I let Jake in, lock the door, and he takes off his shoes, grabbing a disposable guest pair from the basket by the front door. I turn, starting down the hall, and Jake’s full body weight slams into me from behind, arms wrapping around my body, causing me to stumble. Seemingly unpredictably, he stops us from falling while laughing. I catch my footing, give him a firm shove, swipe stray hair behind my ear, and correct the other side, giving him a side-eye.

"Now, you know damn well I'm too clumsy for some stupid shit like that," I scoff, turning into the living room. I walk over to the glass coffee table near the sofa, grab the nearby gold electric candle lighter, tip it into the wide, three-wick candle, and light each of their blackened tips. The scents of apple-cinnamon, cedar, sandalwood, and vanilla fill the room, complemented by the warm orange glow of well-placed LED lights. I sit on the edge of the sofa, and Jake takes his favorite spot on the oversized black beanbag chair nearby. He pulls his hood off, followed by his knitted beanie, ruffling his dark brown hair.

I've got to say, Jake is a handsome guy, no doubt about it.

But I've got problems, and I've caught heavy feelings for one of my biggest headaches lately—Christopher Bang.

We're in this so deep, at least on my end.

I start to think a little harder, trying to see beyond the rose colored glasses for a moment. His text plays through my head as I scroll on my phone, my excuse being searching for another song to skip to on Spotify. But, of course, I get back to the messages Chris sent earlier.

"About us, and where this is going…"

We'd never had an official conversation about being exclusive. We met by chance, fell for each other, and started sneaking around together. I consider Chris my boyfriend, and I’m saved in his phone under ‘baby.' That's got to mean something, right?

The horror begins to set in—has this been a situationship this whole time? Is that why he never went public?

Anxiety creeps in.

"Yo," Jake snaps his fingers, waving his fingers. Damn, I must've been really distracted, crinkled brows as I stare into my phone, thumb tapping against the glass but not doing anything. I look up at him, raising my brows as if I had just briefly missed something he recently said.

"Hm?" I ask.

He's sitting up more, his left hand stroking one of my cats. "Talk to me, girl," he gestures to the marble ashtray with half of a joint, "And pass it."

I lean forward, grabbing the pink joint and placing it between my lips. I use the lighter nearby, sparking it, blowing a few times, the smoke thick and pungent, rising into the air. I tap it into the ashtray and lean over, passing it his way. Jake takes it graciously, placing it between the center of his pink lips and taking a big inhale. He holds it in, nodding, looking down at it as he blows the smoke out the side of his mouth.

"Chris and I got into it again. He told me they were coming to LA for a show over at KCON, and he was like 'maybe I can fly over to see you,' trying to fit it in, delaying his trip to Korea by like three days, which didn’t seem like a big deal. But then after everything ended, he was just hyper-aware of the attention on them and changed his mind," I begin to explain. Jake has taken a few hits during my story; he's leaning forward, passing me the joint again. I take it, hitting it.

"Did he say why?" he asks. Jake’s voice is low, even-toned. He’s invested in my story and the way I’m feeling, I can tell by the way his laser focus is on me as I speak. His eye contact is intense, fiery, the Aries in him.

"No, he didn’t, and that’s what frustrated me, so we got on a call tonight. He like—called me and was dancing around it, and I was like 'look, it’s not hard, are you coming to New York or not.' I was just... over it," I reply, pausing to take another hit before passing it to Jake once more. "He was all 'I want to, baby, but it's too risky.'” I mock his Aussie accent, and Jake can’t help the cough of smoke that comes out from trying to repress a laugh. He turns his head, full-on coughing a couple of times before he catches his breath again.

"Do you need water?" I ask, successfully holding back my own laugh. I don’t wait for his reply, instead, standing up and taking a few steps over to the mini-fridge and grabbing a bottle of spring water, handing it to him.

Plopping back down on the couch, I sigh. "So I didn’t even let him get the rest of it out. I was like 'ok, I’ll talk to you later' and like, hung up."

Jake places the burnt-out joint tip into the tray, effectively ending our puff-puff-pass session, making us both more relaxed and a little spacey. "Oof, y/n, this is... such a unique situation that very few people go through, and even fewer non-K-idols. I mean, I don’t agree with any of it, right? But it’s not me, and Chan, he’s in like–the peak of their career as a boy group, dude." Jake shakes his head, sitting back, my cat jumping from his lap, considering him having moved too much for his comfort.

"I don’t—care," I blurt.

Jake’s head drops back with a sigh before he picks it up again. "That’s probably part of the problem. Chan’s risking his career; Korea is no joke when it comes to this shit. I promise you, unless you’re physically in the industry as an idol over there, you have no idea. It’s so obsessive, and these companies, the management, they will not let you breathe, and the bigger you are—the tighter they hold onto you because there’s so much more to lose at that point."

He only leaves a half second of pause before he says, "I don’t think you’re compatible with—nor do you deserve, that kind of relationship with anyone."

Ouch.

It hurts that much more because—he’s right

"Now that doesn’t make Chan a bad person, or you a weak person. He’s got a right to this life he’s worked super hard to get to, and you’ve got a right to someone to love you the way you want to be loved, especially while you’re in the beginning stage of becoming great yourself. It’s a huge distraction—maybe not a relationship, but like, that kind of relationship."

I can do nothing but sigh, throwing my hands up and sitting back onto the couch, feeling, well, defeated. Can you blame me? It fucking sucks, the reality of it all that I was trying to avoid.

"Fuck," I finally say aloud.

Jake’s looking at me; I know he feels bad for breaking it down so plain, but he does it because he cares about me and wants the best for me, and I know that. “You still do what you want; it’s your life. Whatever you two decide is what you two decide, but that’s just—my limited experience.”

I scoff with a roll of my eyes, “Limited experience. Yeah ok.”

He laughs.

We both understand the subtext of the brief exchange.

“He says we need to talk tomorrow, about us and ‘where this is going’,” I say with air quotes.

“I mean, hey, it’s an opportunity to get your concerns out there, listen to his, and decide what’s best for you. He’ll decide what’s best for him. If that’s being together, great, if not, great. Either way, you’ll be ok. That’s how I like to see these kinds of things.” Jake says, his words profound and his perspective valuable to me. He leans forward, “We’ve known each other like what? Almost a year now?” I nod to confirm, and he continues, “In that short period of time, I can just—tell that you’re a strong person; you wouldn’t have gotten this far if you weren’t. If you ever need someone to talk to, my line is always open.”

I let another long breath go before laying across the sofa on my stomach, bringing myself closer to Jake as I lazily hug a pillow, resting my chin atop it. His advice is logged in my thoughts. I really don’t want to talk about it anymore—the way he phrased it did something to lower my anxiety so I was going to let sleeping dogs lie. “What about you, huh? What’s got you on the East Coast? You’re never over here, rarely in America anymore for real.”

“Yeah, I’ve been—busy, but it’s a blessing, you know? I’m so grateful that so many people support me, as a solo artist, doing my own thing, my way.” Jake never fails to acknowledge those around him that have supported him, and keeps himself grounded and humble somehow through being an international celebrity. “But I was at the Versace show over in Soho. I’ve got a couple of other shows to see for New York Fashion Week, but I touched down and had to come see you.”

I lift a brow. “I’m not gonna fuck you, Jake.”

Without hesitation, he fires back, “I’m not asking you to, y/n.”

It’s enough to drag a snort from me.

He laughs, “The hotels get lonely, and most places I go, I don’t know anyone. I like it here; you’ve done a lot since the last time I was here.” Jake looks around at the decor. He points to a painting of a cat skeleton on a black canvas. “That’s new, I like it.” He says.

“Yeah? I do too; it’s simple but it matches the vibe of the space, I found it by accident one day.”

When Jake says the hotels are lonely, I believe him. He often confides in me about how lonely his lifestyle can be and how it can drive him so crazy that he’ll call everyone through his phone until someone answers, and when that person hangs up, he’ll keep going. More often than not, he doesn’t have anyone to call, despite my insisting that I was an option. Some nights, when it gets really bad, he’ll have a tendency towards drinking, which is something I don’t like, and we’ve talked about ad nauseam. Of course, he’s always welcome in my safe spaces.

“So what’s new with the band? When you texted me the other day, you had like, tons of shit going on that you were freaking out about.” Jake cracks open the bottle of water, taking a gulp.

“I’m flying out to LA next week for a couple of events, but we’re like focused on album three right now; I’ve been locked in the studio just writing.”

“Ok, ok, you got anything for me to hear yet?” He seems to perk up to ask this question.

“Eh, nothing I’m ready to show or anything, just fragments of songs right now. The label is really pushing the work we did with album two to build the hype up for album three, and that’s the one they funded.” I kick my feet slowly in the air behind me as I talk.

“We should do a song together.” Jake says, quite suddenly. He can tell I’m taken aback. I mean, creatively, Jake and I get along great, but we had never discussed merging on a record before. “An official song, I think it could sound incredible.”

I immediately want to agree, of course, but I have a couple of hurdles I know I need to jump now that I’ve gotten to this point in my career. I hated that. I used to be able to agree to a collaboration immediately. But Jake had even more hoops to jump through; he couldn’t commit to something official now either.

So why was he proposing it?

“I gotta ask the label—”

“Fuck the label, dude.” Jake waves his hand, “They don’t have to know anything, not yet. We’ll just work together and see what happens. Whaddya say?”

It takes no thought for me to reply,

“Let’s do it.”

—

Jake wore me down enough to bring him down into the studio, insisting he didn't have anything important to do until tomorrow evening. I don't want to encourage his drinking, but when he spots the whiskey decanter, he gestures to it as I sit down in the main chair in front of the soundboard.

"What’s in there? Hennessy?" He answers his own question as I spin around in the chair to see what he’s talking about. He’s already over at the mini bar, opening it up and whiffing.

"Yeah, but I rarely drink it. I got it for guests." I turn towards my soundboard again, powering it up and waiting for the two large screens to load. I add another thought to the end of my sentence, albeit, to myself. Not like I have guests anyway.

Jake comes over with a glass, the brown liquor sloshing around as he tilts it in my direction. I roll my eyes, taking it, and he’s already got his glass, which he holds out for a toast.

"To the music," Jake says.

"The music." I oblige, clinking his glass and taking my gulp down a lot less gracefully than he does his, before he pours up another for himself. "Don’t overdo it; you’re gonna have a nasty hangover, and I won’t be the one to blame for it." I press a few buttons, and the house lights lower, back to the blue and purple hue I was sitting in earlier.

"I am a grown man that knows my limits." Jake states, matter-of-factly. He sits in the rolling chair at the table alongside me, pulling himself up to the soundboard and sitting back in his chair, sipping his drink as his eyes dance across the screens while I click around, pulling up my digital audio workstation of choice.

I point to the keyboard nearest to him, "Press a key for me?" He does, confirming it's connected and functional, the note ringing out through the monitors.

"Aw yeah." Jake sits up, setting his glass down on the designated cupholder space on the edge of the mixing table as he places both hands on the keys, beginning to fiddle with the limited random keys and chords he had learned how to play while being forced to learn as a trainee. "Damn, it’s been so long." He says, a half smile on his face. I can tell he’s reminiscing, I just can’t tell if it’s good or bad. "You’re so lucky to have control over your music, you know that?" He says, looking over at me before focusing back on the instrument again, slender fingers of his right hand climbing up the keys.

"I don’t really have total control, not anymore. Not sure I ever did." I say with a sigh. "It’s always been like—an Eli and me thing, not just a ‘me’ thing. I just get a little more attention because I’m the one out front, singing." I continue to explain. Jake’s stopped playing, instead choosing to lean in his chair and eye me over the top of his glass as he sips, listening to me with an empathetic nod. "Now with a major label involved, there are so many other factors now."

"You get the final say though, right?"

"Well, yeah, I guess I do." I say with uncertainty, not because it isn’t true, but because it still feels like the decisions I make have to be based on what everyone else thinks is best for us. If I vehemently object, I’m persuaded down to the decisions of others. Sometimes, it feels like I’m being gaslit. But I don’t have much time to ruminate on that, since everything is moving forward at top speed.

"Guess it’s complicated?" Jake concedes.

I nod.

"Girl, you got it," Jake croons in his gruff voice, eyes closed, fingers snapping to start a rhythm. "And I know it, baby, why don’t you?”

I nod, sliding him away from the keys as I hit some chords to match his singing. Unsure if it's a freestyle or something pre-written, I catch the composition unfolding. Music flows through me effortlessly—my natural talent that's brought me this far. It didn't happen overnight, but creating is the part of music that feels like pure joy, a distraction from all the BS.

Soon, we're vibing out a hook, laughing for hours, blending funk with '90s groove, a nostalgic fusion. My phone rings, freezing me in place. The weight of unresolved problems crashes over me. Jake senses it; I bolt before he protests. His eyes speak understanding; he knows when to let me deal with my demons. I answer the phone, attempting to steady my voice.

“Hello?”

“You answered.”

It’s Chris.

His voice is tired, ironic, as if he couldn’t believe it himself but didn’t care.

It irritates me. Why call back so soon if compromise isn't on the table?

“I just called to say, that I’ll be there in about four hours.”

A lump forms in my throat; I glance around for a clock. Holed up in the studio with Jake, time escaped me.

“But you said—“

‘First class, you are now welcome to pre-board flight 917 to Newark, First class, you are now welcome to pre-board flight 917 to Newark.’

“I gotta go, but I’ll see you in a few, yeah?”

“Y-yeah.”

The phone beeps, leaving me in stunned silence. The studio's muted song hums in the background. I'm not ready to face it yet, still figuring out what this sudden visit means.

“Said I wouldn’t do this.” I mutter, pressing my fists against my forehead, heaving a frustrated sigh. I vowed not to let another man stir my emotions, yet here I am—almost having a meltdown. But my feelings are valid. No explanation after a heated argument, and suddenly he's on his way here?

Maybe he got another perspective from the members or his friends. Maybe he thought about it. Either way, he'll be here in four hours. We can hash it out then.

I muster the calm to return to the studio. Jake sits back, his chair turning towards me. “Well?”

I plop onto the nearby sofa. “He’s boarding a flight here now, said he’ll be here in four hours.”

Jake’s brows lift in surprise. “See? I told you…this was going to push you two in some direction it needed to go. Four hours? My man, okay BangChan!” Jake laughs, toasting with his glass. “So I added some drums, check it out.” He plays the track; the groove multiplies.

“You added that part too?” I notice another musical flair, and he nods proudly. After a few seconds, he turns it off, a slow fade of the volume knob.

“I think that’s enough for me to work with for now, what do you think?”

"The skeleton is definitely there, but what about more instruments?" I question. Jake pushes his chair back, picks up his hoodie, slipping it on as he stands up.

“It’s enough to write to; we can come back to it; if Chan’s on his way here, the last thing he needs is to see another guy here late night.” He slips on his shades, his phone reflected in them as he orders an Uber Black. I didn't think he cared like this, feeling closer to him; he did what he felt was best. I was freaking out about how to get him out in time, and Jake took the initiative.

A relieved sigh escapes me. “I owe you.”

“Absolutely nothing. You don’t owe me anything, sweetheart. I had a good time here tonight.” He tucks his phone in his jacket pocket. “Twelve minutes.”

I nod. “Follow me upstairs, I made some cookies yesterday; you can take some with you.”

“Ooh what kind?”

“Chocolate chip.”

“A classic.”

#bang chan #bangchan x reader #chan x reader #chan x you #bangchan smut #chan smut #skz fic #stray kids fic #kpop smut #chan x y/n #chris bang #skz smut #jackson wang #jackson wang x reader #jackson wang fanfic #idol fic #crossover

[xxbimbobunnyxx]

The Pull: Steddie x Succubus reader part 2

Summary:You move to Hawkins after spending the last decade in New York City hoping to have a peaceful and quiet next few years flying under the radar only feeding when necessary and making everyone you spend a night with forget you. But when you arrive, you feel a pull from two men like you’ve never felt before. As soon as you feel it you know flying under the radar here wasn’t going to cut it, you had to find them. Masterlist

Chapter warnings: again not much for this chapter, sexual themes, language. But SMUT STARTS NEXT CHAPTER so there will be rough sex, demon sex, M/M/F threesome, dom/sub dynamics and I’ll add more once I actually post it!

‼️THIS STORY AND MY BLOG ARE 18+ MINORS AND BLANK/AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED IMMEDIATELY‼️

Eddie froze when he saw you, he genuinely couldn’t believe his eyes, moments ago he was trying to convince Steve you even existed and now here you are standing on their doorstep. “Holy. Shit.” His jaw dropped “it’s YOU! You’re the girl!!” He pushed his boyfriend to the side so he could get closer to you “I’ve seen you around, I was convinced you were watching us but Stevie here thought I was crazy and now HERE YOU ARE at our door.”

For a second you forgot how to speak, you had walked up here so confident and ready to take what you wanted but the minute you saw them up close you felt like you could melt. You thought their energy was intense before but standing here now you feel like you’re going to pass out if one of them doesn’t touch you soon. Remembering what you came here for, you tried to shake your nerves and turn on your usual charm “Yeah, I’ve seen you, and I HAVE been watching you. Normally I wouldn’t admit that, but something about you makes me want to tell you the truth”

His boyfriend, which you now know is named Stevie, looked at you with a puzzled look on his face “You-? You’ve been watching us? WHY?” He narrowed his eyes at you suspiciously, you could tell he was going to be the harder one to crack.

“Well, I could lie to you, I could say my car broke down on the street, I could ask to use your phone and you would invite me inside” stepping closer to them until you’re standing half way in the door and looking at them through hooded eyes “I could act all innocent and make you want me the hard way like I always do. OR I could just be honest, what I’m really here for, is you. I WANT you, both.” You smirk at them and look at them through hooded eyes. Remembering who you are, you’re a powerful immortal being, who FEEDS on sex drive, you can talk to these two men like you do any other conquest. At least, you think you can, from the minute you saw them something about them made you want to submit to them and you’ve never felt that way with anyone in all your years.

The long haired one, whose name you still didn’t know shoved past his partner and got so close to you you could feel his breath on your face, god he smelled intoxicating “what? Are you some kind of succubus or something? Come to steeeal our virtue?” He said before he started cracking up laughing. You just stared at him, wide eyed and at a loss for words for the second time in the last few minutes.

Stevie rolls his eyes “You have been spending WAY too much time working on your new campaign Munson, you know those things don’t actually exist in the real world right?” He looked at you with an apologetic look on his face “excuse him, he’s obsessed with fantasy worlds, you’re obviously not some kind of sex demon” he chuckled and rubbed his neck awkwardly “but, I’m still not sure why you are actually here?”

Still stunned, you open and close your mouth to say something several times, looking between the two of them, unsure what you planned to do once you actually got to this point.

“I-uh, shit, well…I mean.. hesnotwrong” you blurted out before you could think better of it. The long haired one, who apparently was called Munson looked at you shocked “huh!? I was totally just talking out of my ass for the most part, making a joke you know? You’re telling me that you.. are an ACTUAL SUCCUBUS?”

“Dude. She’s obviously fucking with us, that shit doesn’t exist. Maybe she IS just some kind of crazy stalker that happens to be fucking gorgeous”

“Gorgeous? Aww you think I’m gorgeous Stevie??” You looked at him with your best fuck me eyes “I may be a bit creepy, I suppose, but I’m not lying to you. Despite popular belief it’s not always in a demon's best interest to tell lies.”

Munson looked between you and his boyfriend for a moment before looking at you and saying “Alright if you really are some kind of freaky sex demon, prove it then” you huffed and rolled your eyes “alright then, if you insist” you got so close to him your feet were touching and felt like you were breathing the same air as him “I’m going to touch you now” you said quickly before caressing his cheek, such a simple gesture that would normally be innocent but the minute your skin touched his he felt like an electrical current was going straight from his cheek to his cock, and he was instantly hard. When he looked into your eyes they weren’t the pretty natural color they had been when you first showed up, but glowing red, and when you smiled your teeth seemed sharper than they were before.

“WOAH, what the fuck” he looked at you completely stunned “holy shit, you aren’t fucking lying” meanwhile steve was just standing there absolutely stunned, it was his turn to be at a loss for words. “Steve, man, are you good?”

“Am I good!? How are you so calm right now!? There is a literal demon on our porch and you are acting like it’s fucking normal Eddie!!” Eddie, you thought, that must be his first name, it’s much cuter than munson, it suits him. “I think the reason he is so calm is because I touched him, my touch can be rather.. intoxicating.. if you will. I can touch you too, if it would make you feel more relaxed?”

“RELAXED!? So what? You’re gonna use your weird sex demon magic on me like you did Eddie and make me do your bidding? I’ll pass, I think you should go”

You should feel bad that you upset him, your feelings should be hurt that he told you to leave but just something about the way he was talking to you had you feeling your panties getting wetter.

“What I did to him wasn’t some kind of mind control if that’s what you’re thinking, yes I CAN do that if I really wanted to but something about you makes me want you to want me artificially. What I did to him was just a release of my pheromones they have a calming effect that makes you relax and access your deepest desires” you turned so you were now close to his face instead of Eddie’s “I want to give that to you, I want to give you whatever you want” you bit your lip so hard you felt one of your fangs break into it causing you to taste blood and you felt your eyes flashing red with want, you wanted them to grab you and just ravish you already.

Steve tried to reason with himself, tried to think of any real reason why he shouldn’t let this beautiful girl who is offering herself up to him and his boyfriend despite the fact that she’s a sex demon. “Fuck it. Do it.” He said with a hint of authority looking you dead in the eyes making you feel like you might melt “okay, this will feel really good I promise” you reached out and caressed his cheek the very same way you did Eddie’s and you saw an immediate change in his demeanor and maybe the tightness of his pants as well “whoa.. wow that does feel really nice”

You smirked and decided to push your luck leaning in and kissing his cheek “can I come in now? Please?”

“Good god, yes, get the fuck in here” Eddie said grabbing you by the arm to drag you inside, Steve had barely shut the door before eddie had you pinned against it, kissing you hard.

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fic recs #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steddie x you #steddie x reader smut #steddie x succubus!reader #eddie munson fic #steve x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader

[lavender-romancer]

I'd Do Anything

Part Three

Tommy Shelby x Reader

You met when you were sixteen and from there, your lives ebbed and flowed closer and further away from one another but there was always something that brought you together.

”*°•.˜”*°•. ˜”*°•. ˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

Previous chapter

1914

It was a beautiful June, dry and wonderfully bright even in some parts of the inner city where smog caked roofs. But June would turn into a tense July, where the papers would speculate whether there would be a war or not. You and Tommy would both read the papers but struggled to talk about any sort of eventuality of war. Neither of you were old enough to remember the Boer War, so the concept of Britain going to war was altogether terrifying.

You and Tommy now lived together permanently. This didn't change much from your previous dynamic. Aside from the sex. A lot of sex. Wherever, whenever you could. With both of you genuinely being surprised you never got pregnant. You'd only been walked in on a few times with one of the siblings being completely scarred for the hours after. But it was usually laughed off and used as ammo against the two of you in jokes. You and Tommy had always been close, you were just close in everyway you could be now. It was blissful.

As you both ignored the papers you could imagine your future together. Working together, in a nice house near your family, maybe even afford a car eventually. Regardless of what happened, you wanted to be together to do it. You slowly met other people in Tommy's life he'd been closer too when you were at uni, all local boys living in or close to Small Heath. Freddie was your favourite, he was the loudest and most outspoken if any of Tommy's friends. Having political conversations with him was a nice break from Thomas' mostly apolitical attitudes that led to him being neutral to a lot of things. Thomas had some sympathies for the communist movement but it was really the conversations you had with Freddie that led to you understanding it moreso. Whereas, Tommy liked to listen rather than debate.

Finn was a stubborn little six year old, swiftly moving into a rebellious phase (definitely just copying his brothers). People still mistook Finn for being yours and Tommy's child but, nether of you seemed to mind anymore especially when you'd sometimes pretend you were. You and Tommy were both his teachers, each of you thinking it was very important to set Finn up well so he could do anything he wanted too in life. By the end of July he had learnt his times tables off by heart and somehow with your zero teaching experience between you, Finn seemed to be doing okay. It was when August came around that things began to change.

"Good morning." Tommy said, sitting up in bed reading yesterday's paper again. You were slowly waking up and made some sort of sound that could be construed as a 'morning' greeting.

"What time is it?" You asked shuffling over to lean on his chest.

"Probably about six." He told you, eliciting a groan from you before sitting up.

"I need to make breakfast for Finn." You went into a sort of 'zombie mum' mode where you definitely needed to properly wake up but were determined to wake Finn up and feed him.

"Polly's already here, come back to bed." Tommy gestured for you to come back and lie on his chest. You gratefully flopped ontop of him and yawned, falling back asleep straight away.

Tommy looked down at you half suffocating him and still couldn't believe you were real. That all of this really happened and he belonged to you. He'd never felt so lucky to be alive than now, looking down at your absolutely hideous sleeping face as you snored away; he just thought you looked cute. Tommy was so in love with you he didn't know how to function when you weren't there. It was the same when you went off to university, he had no tether, no direction.

"Thomas!" A voice screamed up the stairs and Tommy internally swore, hoping you wouldn't wake up. He slowly got out of bed and you mumbled something but fell right back to sleep.

"What is it?" Tommy hissed down the stairs after closing the door and Polly appeared at the base of the stairs holding up the paper.

"It's happened." She said, quieter now, more serious.

Tommy ran down the stairs and ripped the paper out of her hand, unfolding it. His eyes widened at the headline 'Great Britain declares war on Germany'. The page made a crumpling noise in his hands and he had to take a moment to breathe, take in his surroundings and try to ground himself but it wasn't working, this was real.

"How do we sign up?" Tommy asked with a serious tone and Pol threw up her arms.

"Are you fucking joking!" She yelled, "You're going to get yourselves killed, and for what? A war that is hardly our business?"

"We're adults, Pol. We can make our own decisions." Tommy returned, running a hand through his hair, suddenly there was a furious rapping at the door. Upon opening the backdoor Freddie ran in.

"We're fighting the power hungry bastards!" He held up a paper with a huge grin and a laugh. Polly swore under her breath.

"The two of you are insane!" She exclaimed before walking out of the room.

"Where's Arthur?" Freddie asked, walking through the house calling his name.

"It's like a bloody shelter around here." Polly commented as she walked up the stairs.

"Arthur!" Freddie yelled bursting into his room only to be greeted with a scream and a woman running out half dressed past Polly.

"What in God's name?" Polly muttered putting a hand to her forehead and Tommy struggled to keep in his laughter.

"Arthur! Just, just look!" Freddie yelled at a clearly very angry Arthur whilst handing him the newspaper. Tommy stood in the doorway, still in his boxers and undershirt. After a few moments Arthur looked up at Freddie then Tommy.

"When are we joining up then?" Arthur asked, looking at his brother with a smile, Freddie practically jumped on top of him with a triumphant yell. Tommy just smiled and slapped Freddie on the back.

"Have you told your mother?" Tommy asked in a concerned tone and Freddie sniffed, running a hand through his hair.

"I came straight here. She'd only try and stop me." Freddie admitted with a tone of regret, he knew that she was about to be heartbroken.

"Freddie, we should find out where the recruiting is in town." Arthur said, getting out of bed and pulling on his clothes from yesterday.

"I'll see you when you get back, remember to tell John." Tommy turned and walked out of Arthur's room.

"Break it to her softly, Tom." Arthur called and Tommy closed his eyes, leaning his hand against the wall for support. He had no idea how to break this to you.

"Y/n," Tommy called softly, walking back into your room holding the paper. "I need to talk to you about something." He sat on the edge of the bed and you woke up very slowly at first.

"How long was I asleep?" You asked with a yawn, shuffling across the bed to wrap your arms around Tommy's waist.

"Not too long. Polly called me downstairs to talk to me about something." Tommy held the paper in one hand but didn't show it to you yet, unable to admit to you what he had already decided.

"Did Finn have another strop?" You asked with a smile and Tommy tried to put a smile on his face, but as he's as he tried it wouldn't happen.

"Yeah." He replied in a hollow sort of way.

Tommy was consumed by his own worries so much he forgot he was holding the paper and it made a noise as he moved his finger up and down it. You looked over the side of the bed and grabbed the paper but Tommy wouldn't let go.

"Tommy?" You asked, "Give me the paper." You raised an eyebrow with a grin, assuming he was fucking around.

"No, not this one I spilled something a-and it's all sticky." Tommy tried to reason with a vice grip on the paper.

"It looks absolutely fine." You let go but pushed his arm slightly, "Why won't you let me read it?"

"I'll get a better one." He said very quietly and you were starting to get worried.

"Thomas. What's going on?" You said in a more serious tone.

Tommy took a deep breath and placed the newspaper (headline side down) on the bed. Your boyfriend had his head in his hands when you turned over the paper. Suddenly you couldn't speak, because you knew why he didn't want you to see the headline. You were so overwhelmed you didn't make a sound, placing the paper down you just stared at Tommy's back. Not knowing when you'd be able to do it next.

Two March's later, Tommy had been in France for around two months as a claykicker and you had been training to become a military nurse. Your training had begun as soon as you possibly could, you used your social circles found whilst being at University to start training earlier than other working class women and you would be able to be mobilised before others. The letters between you and Tommy had begun very constant, but the more pressurised the situation became at the front, the less communication there was back to the UK. Or at least, that was how you rationalised not receiving a letter from Tommy for the last two months.

Working at the training hospital had challenged all your preconceptions about nurses, assuming they were only an extension of Doctors. This snobbery was put into check when you had your first full shift on a recovery ward. The day was back-breaking even though some soldiers were fit enough to care for themselves. There was not a time on that shift you didn't feel exhausted. But you needed this. You couldn't fight, you couldn't lead but you could make some sort of difference regardless I'd the risk. Sitting at home playing house and bringing up Finn was wonderful but when men were dying everyday how could you, in good conscience, do it. Short of shaving off your hair and binding your chest, you felt that you could make some kind of difference at home or near the front.

Every shift at the hospital you saw more and more soldiers scarred by the war. Limbs missing, their faces completely changed and mental stability ruined for years to come. Whenever you helped these men you could only hope that it would never be the Shelby boys in these beds. You knew that any life changing injuries to any of the boys would be catastrophic to them, they relied so much on their physical prowess in the betting business that you didn't know if they could recover from it.

By the end of May you were told that you would be taken to join the 3rd Casualty Cleaning Service (CCS) in Bailleul. All you could do was hope that if Tommy was injured he was there. Unless the CCS was attacked it was unlikely you'd move around much and you just wanted to know he was alive, in any condition.

Being stationed had its benefits, you knew exactly where the front would be moving, be given information of incoming attacks from the air you couldn't receive in a mobile unit and conditions could be maintained with regular routine in the same location. But they also meant if Tommy's unit wasn't stationed anywhere near this CCS, you wouldn't be able to get any information about if he was alive. It was still hard to get letters to and from home from France so you doubted it would be any better for nurses. Nurses weren't told much about what was happening on the frontline, or at least you weren't. But you heard whispers from soldiers that something big was being prepared for July, you couldn't stop the immense dread you felt as the day you had to leave got closer. What kind of bloodshed was being planned?

Traveling to Bailleul was the furthest you'd gone in your life, being in a whole new country was inexplicably exciting. But the reality of being there shocked you. You traveled from Southampton to Rouen, then on to Saint-Omer by train then on to Bailleul. The whole journey took weeks, after all the roadblocks, refueling and a full week of being stationary due to recent shell attacks. When you were moving, the landscape was littered with bodies or the blood that they left. It wasn't uncommon to see body parts lying around the countryside or groups of elderly French farmers begging at the side of the road- their emaciated donkeys close by. These small towns had such a specific smell, all the mud thrown up from the military vehicles had masked any scent of nature, all you could smell was the damp coldness. This scent continued into the field hospital you were assigned too, even when you smelled the scarf tucked under your gown you brought from home, but it was worse. Mixed with the sounds of a singular scream, from what you assumed was a temporary operating room, it was a hellish welcome.

Once you had your assigned cubicle which was above some stables, you looked around at some of the other sisters. Some were asleep after their shift, others only just moving in like you. You took one of the pins out from your hair and pulled out a photo of you and Tommy taken when you went to Blackpool, pushing the pin through the photo you attached it to your bed frame. Looking into Tommy's eyes, you could feel his presence. You knew he was alive because he had to be, there was no eventuality of your life without him. He was near. You knew it.

It was late June, a dull day filled with clouds and heavy rain. The thunderstorms of the previous nights left a welcome scent of petrichor into the hospital. Aside from rain there wasn't much that could help the scent that radiated from the beds. Whether it was a doctor attempting to treat what was known as an unknown moisture based affliction that most of the boys call trench foot, or just the metallic taste of blood in the air. Regardless, you didn't complain and carried on with your daily responsibilities. This was it for you, this was the closest you would get to fighting against the enemy. Consequently you would soon be one of the most dedicated nurses in your company.

The first morning of July was misty, but it usually was when you woke up for your morning duties. Beginning with washing dirty sheets that you attempted to scent with flowers but usually it was only the soap that did any good. You hadn't had any patients with serious injuries or wounds for a while now and you hoped the situation might be stabilising on the front.

Tommy's morning was wrought with anxiety. His tunneling division in the Lochnagar trench was about three meters from being directly underneath the German trench and dug-outs. The whole operation was so time sensitive he couldn't help but worry if they would set the charges and get out of the tunnel in time for the trigger happy generals. Tommy would have loved to see how they coped in the tunnels, a sweaty, dusty nightmare. Every breath tasted like dirt but he couldn't cough or splutter in case Fritz was on the other side of the wall, listening. He looked at Freddie's form in front of him, wondering how the two of them got to this point. Danny was tunneling slowly with his bayonet down the front sitting against a wooden frame as Tommy listened through the walls with a geophone for any movement with Freddie holding the lamp up for Danny.

The three Small Heath men often reminisced at the beginning of their deployment about home, sex, and alcohol. Now they couldn't face thinking about it. Whenever Tommy thought about you he wanted to cry so he didn't. He stopped writing, he had a job to do and he couldn't let anything distract him when it was so important. All he could do was pray that you weren't near the front.

Suddenly Tommy heard a slight noise. Shovels. He lightly tapped Freddie and asked him to listen, his eyes slowly going wide as they reached for their revolvers. Freddie tapped Danny's shoulder and signaled that there might be someone to the left of them.

Everything seemed to happen so fast, Danny turned around and suddenly he was grasped by the neck by a German. Tommy leapt forward and stabbed the first Fritz in the stomach, holding his hand over his mouth and then another came through the hole burst through the mud.

"Tommy!" Freddie exclaimed before pushing Tommy out the way and getting hit by a bullet. Danny broke the neck of the second German and the three of them sat there for a moment in disbelief. Tommy could tell that Danny was about to scream or cry.

"Take him to the surface." Tommy told Danny sternly, he would set these charges himself if he had too.

"Tommy, ah," Freddie hissed in pain. "You can't set them yourself."

"Well I'm fucking going too. Get up to the surface now." Tommy turned and carried on digging, now less worried about Germans slitting his throat.

Two meters farther Tommy set the charges and attached the wire, he looked down at his pocket watch, he still had an hour. But carefully wheeling this wire all the way up to the surface was incredibly intimidating-especially alone. Each shuffle felt horrendously loud in the silence of the tunnel, as he got closer to the surface, Tommy could feel every vibration from above. There was no auxiliary fire yet but even the movement of soldiers in the trenches was enough. He was up to his shins in freezing water now, there was a slight dip in the tunnel where water had been streaming through for days now. Tommy was surprised he didn't have trench foot by this point, but there was no time to think about that now. He got closer and closer to the ladder even though it kept feeling further, with muscles aching and his nerves at breaking point he climbed up the ladder holding onto the ends of the wire spiral.

"Where's the switch?" Tommy asked in a completely deadpan voice when he finally reached the surface.

"Here, Tom. Freddie's gone to the field hospital." Danny handed Tommy the switch with hands shaking vigorously.

"Pull yourself together, Dan. We have to get this right " Tommy sat with the wire coil in his lap, connecting the two.

"I-I can't do this Tom. It's too much." Danny ran his hand over his head and squatted down, his body shaking.

Tommy focussed on the task at hand because he had no time to deal with any of this, he only had 10 minutes to connect it all and get the fuck out of there.

You were on shift when a small army vehicle approached, beeping its horn. Running over you saw two porters getting the patient out of the back of the car.

"What happened? I didn't know anyone had already gone over?" You asked, walking alongside the men.

"I think he was shot in the tunnels. Gerry Claykicker got him." He replied and you could have gasped in that moment when a hand reached out and touched yours. You looked down and saw Freddie's terrified eyes, his face covered in mud and blood pouring from a wound in his stomach.

"Oh, fuck." You said under your breath. Your more senior nurse took over from you with one of the surgeons, they took Freddie into the tent and all he could do was stare into your eyes as he got further away.

As you ran into the tent to prep some more beds in case there were more trench casualties a cacophony of noise interrupted your thoughts. You hid underneath a bed, assuming it was a shell attack from above but it seemed to stop. Another large explosion sound came further away from the last. You slowly walked out of the tent and looked out towards the front, in the distance there was a humongous crater- then the gunfire started. The Battle of the Somme had begun.

next part

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