#despite getting almost 9 hours last night

[seratopia]

miguel o'hara x reader (fluff) - intoxicated → she/her pronouns!

modern ceo au! what happens when miguel is drunk

It's extremely rare when Miguel goes out to drink with coworkers, it's rare enough when Miguel gets out to go anywhere in general. He's either cooped up in his office, glued to his work, or glued to you at home.

You suggested to Miguel earlier this week about getting out to a bar, along with a few of the other higher-ups of the company. It's healthy to get out, you said, even if all he's going to be doing is drinking alcohol and eating meat.

Miguel's only good with people in a more professional sense; he's not the best at being all buddy-buddy with people he usually works with. He's quiet the entire time he's at the bar, occasionally taking a bored nibble at a bowl of loaded fries.

He kind of regrets this; surrounded by loud music, loud people, TV's with sports games playing in the background. He just misses you, he wants to come home and make food with you.

One of his coworkers, nudged him in the side a bit, obviously gesturing towards the wide array of various drinks and juices.

"Might as well have a drink while you're at it." He says, and Miguel is just stone-faced the entire time. The man walks away towards the remaining group of coworkers, possibly to either go dance, or to stare at girls from afar.

Considerably, it's been a while since he's had a drink. One or two wouldn't hurt, especially as a last minute scrounge for enjoyment in this god-awful bar.

Slowly, Miguel nurses on a drink provided by a suspiciously sleek bartender, leaning his cheek into his palm whilst taking a couple sips. He can feel the wolfish eyes of various women & men staring at him, feeling somehow exposed in his tight white button-up and simple pants. If only you were here, to sit in his lap and run your little hands against his chest.

The thought makes his head spin, a violent hot warmth running up his cheeks, his mind being blurred like a smudge on someone's reading glasses. The room's almost tilting sideways, the thoughts in his head dissolving away. (miguelito is a lightweight because i say so)

Miguel's drunk, for the first time in literal years.

He doesn't like it; he feels out of control of his body, unable to think or function correctly. He feels like a different person entirely, his eyes replaced with jelly and the tips of his ears turning scarlet.

The drink tasted good and all, but Miguel's thoughts on you feel magnified, every feature, every action you do running through his head like a cassette tape. He misses you more, and he really wants to see you.

Cleverly, he pulls out his phone, sighing to himself on the counter. It takes him a moment to put in his phone password correctly, fingers drunkenly tapping on the screen until he can find your contact.

. . .

You receive a text notification at about 9:43. Expectedly, you knew Miguel probably wouldn't make it through the whole night, but you're proud of him for trying. You open up your phone, amidst watching a show in bed.

miguelito💞💓: My love, I am intoxicated.

The text makes you giggle a little, imagining him all red-faced and tripping over himself with his coworkers.

Conveniently, you receive another text, one from the person you asked to keep an eye on Miguel.

It's a picture of Miguel with his head leaned against the counter, lovingly zooming in on a picture of your face with his phone. His ears are red, and there's a half-drunken drink beside him.

james q: he says he misses you. want me to take him home? you: it's okay, thanks tho. i'll be there in 10 to get him. james q: 👍

Assuming Miguel's still on his phone, you shoot him a text.

you: i see u looking at me

You giggle to yourself, and Miguel is visibly both shocked and excited, peering left to right as if you were magically in the bar.

miguelito💞💓: Please pick me up. I hate it here. you: ok sweetie, be there in 10

. . .

Despite the hour, the bar is bustling as ever, populated with underage girls wearing slip dresses and drunk frat boys. You worm through the building, searching left and right for your husband through the cacophonous bar.

Finally, you spot him where the counter is, big head tucked into crossed arms.

Gently, you slip your hand onto his shoulder, warmly rubbing him awake. At first he flinches, staring at you as if you were a stranger. He relaxes a few seconds later, lovingly and drunkenly fixating on you.

"Hey hun, I'm here to take you home." You say, and Miguel feels so warm, so comforted in contrast to the rash environment of the pub. He wants to kiss you, but he's too drunk to focus.

Without a word, Miguel rises from his bar stool, arms and hands immediately inching around your shoulders. He doesn't realize it, but he's pressing more of his body weight onto you, leaning on top of you like a slug.

Seeing you roll away the finest, sexiest piece of man as if it were nothing makes the party around you fume, their thoughts of asking for a number shattered within a minute or two.

Miguel trails after you, gluing himself to your back as you maneuver yourself out of the stuffy bar. Finally, you're out in the cool air of the dark, muffled edm music booming from the block's other counterparts.

The sidewalk is somewhat barren, scattered with a few people smoking or walking.

"I missed you, s'much." Miguel slurs, seeing the outline of your car in the dark parking lot.

"I know you did, baby. Now you get to come home with me and we can do whatever you want, like we promised." You say, unlocking your car with the press of your key.

He smiles just a teensy bit, his heart warming at the thought of snuggling up to you in bed, or cooking a late-night meal of sorts with you while a show plays in the background.

Miguel's the passenger princess tonight, adjusting the seat backwards so he can actually sit. He stares at you the entire time through bleary eyes, watching you start the car as if it were the most artistic and most beautiful thing ever.

"I love you." Miguel says, and you can feel the gratuity in his voice.

"I love you too."

© 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒑𝒊𝒂.

#across the spiderverse #atsv #atsv x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #fluff #reader insert #romance #x reader #spiderman #spiderverse #seratopia writes ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

[authorhjk1]

https://www.reddit.com/r/kpopfap/comments/1agagbq/iu/

IU being an expensive hooker

Expensive Night

(IU X Male Reader)

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

You shout as you walk through your living room. Your parent's living room to be exact.

It felt like an awesome idea half an hour ago. And it felt like a dream twenty minutes ago. But now it feels like you are committing a great sin.

Your parents are out for a dinner date. It's their anniversary today. The 25th. You helped your dad with the surprise for a week now. He wanted to take your mother out to the place they first met. Their school, which you are going to currently. He got the key for the roof from the janitor yesterday and will surprise your mom with a romantic picnic, overlooking almost half of the city.

Your father didn't tell you what he planned for afterwards, but he let you know that they are gonna stay out late.

Which now means that you are home alone at 9 pm on a Thursday night. Not necessarily unusual. You finished your homework, starting to prepare for your finals. School today was like any other day.

Except for one thing. One of the guys bragged about having sex with the hottest girl in school. You still highly doubt that he told the truth. But you can't help being envious. You never had sex before, despite being eighteen for a while now.

Your parents always told you, that it's not about the act itself, but about the person you are with. You always agreed to some degree, but you still feel like you are missing out. And there is no guarantee you are ever gonna find that woman. Right?

Which now leads us to your actions from thirty minutes ago. You never considered doing it. You were never really into porn and you definitely never even had the urge to pay to watch something like that. But for some reason, that spam mail you got, lured you in.

Because of the woman's picture. You usually delete these kind of mails as soon as you see them, not wanting to catch a virus. But when you saw her picture, you couldn't resist.

Not only because she looks like a goddess. Like the most beautiful woman you've probably ever seen. But because she is Julie's mother.

Who's Julie? The hottest girl at school. The girl your classmate allegedly slept with.

You were surprised to see her in that email. You were even more surprised, when you found out that this wasn't a normal dating site. It was an ad for an app. An app where you can hire a prostitute. To pay a woman to have sex with you.

Never in your life did you think about doing this. It didn't even cross your mind once. But here you are. Thirty minutes later, staring at your phone.

"See you in forty minutes, baby 😘"

You check the time. She is gonna be here in like 8 minutes.

Suddenly, you become incredibly nervous. Since you asked her to come over, you were worried about your parents finding out. But now, you realize that this is actually happening. What are you supposed to do? You already took a shower. Maybe prepare flowers? But that's stupid, you aren't trying to date her.

You get back to your room, starting to clean it properly. She might already know who you are. The two of you didn't interact with each other for the last two years. You only caught a glimpse of her occasionally at events and stuff. But she is still Julie's mother. And older than you. You don't want her to think you are some inexperienced child.

When the doorbell rings, you feel the butterflies in your stomach going crazy. This is really gonna happen.

You slowly walk over to the front door. Taking a deep breath, you finally open it.

You are stunned by the older woman, who is standing in front of you. She might be your mom's age, but she looks better than any of the girls at school. Probably even better than her own daughter.

"Hello, handsome."

Jieun gives you a heartwarming smile. Her white dress looks incredible on her. You can't help but glance at her shoulders and then her thighs shortly after. The excitement of feeling her skin on yours makes your body heat up. You can feel your erection starting to grow.

"Do you want me to come in? You can keep staring once I'm inside."

Her melodic laugh makes your cheeks flush. You wanted to look like you've done this before, damn it.

"S-Sure."

You close the door behind her, after she walked past you. The scent of lilac lingers in your nose.

"Have a seat please."

You are not really sure how to proceed. Do you offer her something to drink? Do you discuss her pay? You are still surprised she doesn't seem to recognize you. It's probably for the better anyway. You already feel bad for paying your classmate's mother for having sex with you.

You are slightly curious to why Ms. Lee is doing this, but your thoughts get distracted by her sitting down.

Her long, creamy legs almost make you reach out to touch her. The smile playing on her lips makes you want to kiss her.

"Do you want to discuss everything for a minute, before we start?"

Jieun shakes her head, a mischievous smile on her lips.

"Sure. Would you like something to drink?"

"I'm sure I'm going to drink something very delicious later."

Once you realize what she means, you have to sit down, not wanting to expose how hard she is making you.

"You are still pretty young though. Do you have enough money?"

You take the bundle of bills out of your pocket. It's everything you got for your last birthday, plus some of your earlier savings. A lot, but definitely worth it.

You feel a little awkward throughout this transaction, but Jieun seems to really be a professional.

Once you are done, Jieun takes your hand.

"I guess your bedroom is this way?"

She smiles at you, looking back over her shoulder. You nod, still mesmerized by her beauty.

Once you enter your room, Jieun makes you sit down on the edge of the bed. You hear your breath hitch, when she suddenly straddles your lap. Your hands instinctively move to her thighs, you feel her weight on your crotch.

Without another word, Jieun captures your lips with hers. You can't believe this is actually happening. The two of you share a hot kiss as you feel her slowly grinding against you. By the way she let's a moan escape into your mouth, you know that she can feel your hard cock.

"You're such a good kisser."

She only stops for a moment to tell you that, before she gets back to kissing you again.

You wonder if she is actually telling the truth or not. But you can't ask her as she starts to make the kiss more messy. Her fingers run through your hair, occasionally tugging at it lightly. Her tongue pushes past your lips, now dueling with your own for dominance.

You feel like the kiss lasts for hours. But eventually, the two of you need to break away for air.

"Do you want to watch me strip, or do you want to take the dress off yourself?"

"W-Watch."

You almost stumble over that one simple word.

With a grin, Jieun slowly gets off your lap. Instinctively, you cover your crotch with your hand, ashamed at how hard you are.

You expect her to just take it off. Instead, Jieun turns around. She puts her hair over her right shoulder, exposing her neck.

You gulp as she sits back down on your lap.

"Would you mind?"

Your eyes linger on the zipper of her dress. This is really happening. Your fingers shake slightly as you start to open Jieun's dress from behind. Slowly, you reveal more and more of her flawless skin.

You now stare at her completely exposed back. Unable to hold yourself back, you want to have another taste of Jieun's body.

Your lips meet her skin as you kiss her shoulder. You slowly move towards her neck, peppering her with small kisses.

"Good boy."

A sigh escapes Jieun's mouth. You like how she said it. With love and appreciation. As if you are the man she loves.

It turns you on more and you slowly kiss down her back. You take the same path her spine tikes, enjoying the sight of Jieun getting goosebumps at your touch.

Once you are unable to bend down further, Jieun gets off your lap. You can't tear your eyes off her as she twirls around, before giving you a seductive look. Slowly, she starts to let her dress glide down her frame.

"What do you think, honey?"

Her chest is exposed first. Her mounds seem to probably fit perfectly into your hands. Her pink nipples taunt you, trying to make you jump into action. Jieun's toned midriff deserves just as much admiration. You unconsciously bite your lip, when her dress slips past her hips, exposing her white panties. The lace patterns are firmly wrapped around her thighs. You can only catch a glimpse of her lower lips.

With a smile, Jieun hooks a thumb underneath the waistband, slightly pulling it down. Before you can see more of her, she puts it back in place, visibly enjoying teasing you.

"Not so fast. You have to show me what you have first."

You watch as Jieun steps between your legs, before she kneels down. This still feels like a dream to you. But here you are, you classmate's mother unbuckling your belt.

"I like the sight of that."

Jieun grins up at you after pulling down your pants. You have to stop yourself from bucking your hips towards her as she gives your cock, which is still restrained by your underwear, a kiss.

Another one follows quickly after.

"Thank you for this big gift."

Jieun chuckles as she lifts her head to kiss your lips. You can't tell if she is genuine or not. But her fingertips dancing along your length, make you forget what she just said.

With an alluring sparkle in her eyes, Jieun looks up at you as she pulls down your underwear.

"Fuck. You are huge."

You watch her bite her lip as she stares at your now exposed member. Of course you measured it before. This time you know that she isn't exaggerating. At least not a lot.

"Let me have a taste."

Jieun leans down to kiss your cock. She licks her lips afterwards, before she runs her tongue along the length of your shaft.

"Relax, baby."

Jieun giggles, covering your right hand with her left. Only now do you realize that you've taken a hold of your sheets. Your knuckles starting to turn white.

"Is this your first time?"

You nod slowly, embarrassed that it's so obvious.

"Don't be shy. It's an honor, you know."

Jieun slowly strokes your cock up and down as she talks.

"Why don't you lie down and let me take care of you?"

"S-Sure."

You position yourself in the middle of your bed with your back slightly sinking into your mattress. Jieun is lying on her stomach, between your spread legs.

"I can't believe this is your first time. With a cock like this..."

She kisses your base and slowly starts to move towards your tip, peppering your cock with kisses. Once her lips wrap around your tip, she sinks her head down. You let out an embarrassed moan as Jieun uses her tongue to play with the head of your cock.

The older woman knows exactly what she is doing. You seem to sink further into the mattress as Jieun keeps worshipping your cock. Her lips glide along your shaft. Her tongue swirls around your tip, whenever she moves upwards.

"Such a nice cock."

She murmurs to herself occasionally between sucks and licks.

"It tastes so good."

Eventually, your cock is covered with her saliva.

"Do you want me to deep throat you? Check if it fits or not?"

You nod in excitement while Jieun is still talking.

"If it doesn't, I'm not sure if you would fit in my pussy. If you destroy me, you have to pay extra."

She gives you a wink, before she laughs.

You give Jieun an awkward smile, hoping that really is a joke.

When she starts to take you into her mouth again, you hold your breath. Her lips glide along your shaft. She goes further down than before. You feel Jieun starting to slow down a little. Eventually, you hit something inside of her.

It makes Jieun gag. She slowly backs up, until her mouth is empty again. She gives you another look, before she dives in once more. Soon, you have her choking again. This time, she went down even further. Instinctively you put a hand on her head, slightly bucking your hips upwards.

You can't believe how good this feels. Your cock feels warm and safe in Jieun's mouth. Your tip probably already down her throat as she tries to open her jaw even wider.

You catch yourself pressing Jieun's head into your crotch. Eventually, she taps on your thighs, struggling for air. Regretfully letting go of her, you watch your in spit covered cock fall out of her mouth.

"Wow. You are really something."

Before you can reply, Jieun is deepthroating you once more. Apart from the occasional choking, everything is quiet. You look down, watching how small rivers of her saliva run down to the base of your cock.

Your breathing becomes heavier as you try to calm yourself. This isn't the right time. You need to hold out longer. Your fingers bury themselves in your sheets once more.

"I-I want to fuck you now."

You are embarrassed, when these words spill out of your mouth. But you need a moment to calm down. You don't want this to end too soon.

A devilish smirk plays around Jieun's lips as she moves them along the length of your shaft. Until she finally releases your cock out of her mouth, you are afraid that you would cum too soon.

"I see you are getting more comfortable?"

"Well-"

Jieun's warm smile makes you stutter. You can't believe you are seeing the same smile with which she congratulated you on your 12th birthday. It just feels unreal.

"How would you like to take me?"

You haven't thought about that yet. Now that you got a much needed break, you try to come up with something.

Jieun must've seen you struggling to find something. She leans over your body to give you a deep kiss, before she moves her legs on both sides of your hips.

"Would you like me to ride you?"

You hesitantly nod. Now that you are about to lose your virginity, you don't care about how. You just want this to happen.

Your heart races when Jieun slowly pulls down her lace panties. This is the first time you actually see a woman naked in real life. Her shaven pussy greets you, once the white fabric reaches her knees. It looks too good to be true. You unconsciously lick your lips, imagining your head between her thighs. You bet she would taste delicious.

"What do you think?"

Jieun pulls back her folds a little, showing off more of her pink insides.

"I-It looks amazing."

"I hear that a lot."

Her laugh makes you smile.

Jieun puts her left hand on your chest, her smile suddenly turning into something different. She almost looks needy now.

"It's time to put your cock where it belongs."

Her right hand holds your cock once more, slowly stroking it a couple of times, before she guides it towards her warm core. This is it.

You watch with wide eyes. Your tip brushes her wet folds. Jieun moves it along her slit a couple of times, before she starts to part her lips with your cock.

Her wetness and warmth welcome you as your tip finally slips inside. Jieun slowly lowers herself onto you. Her pussy seems to swallow your cock, almost like her mouth did earlier. Its walls hug you, slightly squeezing your dick.

"Good boy."

Jieun mumbles, her eyes closed, as she sinks herself onto you.

You feel her pussy gliding along your shaft, until Jieun finally stops. You are almost fully inside of her by now. But you can see that she is struggling to take all of you inside.

Your hands automatically move to her waist, not sure what else to hold onto.

"You really are big."

Jieun sighs, before she starts to circle her hips. A moan almost escapes your mouth. This feels too good to be true. Why don't people have sex all the time? How are they able to do anything else?

You start to lose all train of thought, when Jieun stops the circling of her hips. She now lifts herself off you, both of her hands pressing against your chest. Her lips have a tight grip on you as they move along your length.

"Damn, you are making me so wet."

Jieun moans when she reaches your tip.

"I just want to impale myself on your cock until I cum."

Her confession makes you groan. You never thought you would hear someone say that to you. Ever.

Staying true to her words, Jieun suddenly slams herself down onto your lap. Bot of your eyes roll back at the pleasure. You feel your thighs slightly sticking together, due to Jieun's juices.

Before you can completely recover from this new feeling, Jieun has already moved upwards again and is now impaling herself onto your cock once more.

She hits you hard and deep everytime. The couple of seconds she needs to recover, whenever you bottom out inside of her, feel like ages.

"Jieun."

You moan her name, when she lets her pussy glide along your shaft once more.

Eventually, the two of you get used to each other. Jieun trades in the hard and deep thrusts for pace. She starts to really ride you now. The sound of her hips meeting yours echo through your room.

"Such a nice cock."

She breathlessly moans, her eyes shut as she enjoys the feeling of being completely filled.

Jieun keeps riding you, making you struggle to keep quiet. You try to distract yourself from the inevitable. Your hands start to explore Jieun's body. They first roam her midriff, enjoying her toned stomach, before they move further upwards.

You feel Jieun slowing down a little to make it easier for you to cup her tits. She tilts her head back when you grope her breasts.

"Yes, baby. Good boy."

You feel her pussy hugging you a little tighter now. You realize that you can't hold off your orgasm for much longer. It has been coming for a while now. Your exploring of her body made you forget about it for a moment. But the squeezing of her walls bring you back to reality.

Your hands keep cupping her tits as Jieun picks up the pace again. Soon, you are not the only one, who is hanging on by a threat.

The older woman feels your cock parting her walls, everytime she slams herself down on you. It almost seems like you hit deeper spots with every hit. Her nails slowly start to scratch the skin on your chest. That little bit of pain makes you squeeze Jieun's tits a little harder.

This finally drives the older woman over the edge. You didn't expect her to cum because of you. But here you are. Her pussy is pulsating around your cock, trying to to make you cum as well. Her lewd moan sounds like the voice of an angel as she voices her pleasure.

Jieun's tight grip on your cock brings you closer to your orgasm as well. You are able to hold out Jieun's, until she slowly starts to ride you again.

"Oh fuck. I needed that."

She sighs, enjoying your cock deep inside her pussy.

"I've been really stressed lately."

Jieun leans down to give you another kiss. You realize you are starting to get addicted to her lips. It's the same way with her pussy. If you stay inside of her for much longer, you doubt you will be able to live without it from now on.

"Tell me when you're there."

Jieun seems to be able to tell that you are close. It's embarrassing that you are cuming so soon. You wished you could try out more positions with her. Maybe even get a taste of her pussy. It looked more delicious than anything you've ever seen.

Jieun keeps riding you. Her snatch keeps your cock warm and wet. Her juices make it easy for her lips to glide along your shaft.

Your arms are slowly getting tired and you regretfully let go of her tits. Instead, your hands retake their place on Jieun's hip.

"Oh baby. Your cock feels so good. I really need your cum now."

Jieun's moaned words make you twitch inside of her. You are able to hold on a little longer. One more bounce. Two. Three.

You start counting, trying to distract yourself.

Ten. Twelve. Thirteen.

"Jieun."

Her name slips out of your mouth, accompanied by a deep groan. You never expected to say her name like this.

"Cum for me, baby. Put it in me."

You are unable to think straight. This is the hardest orgasm you've ever had. Everything starts to become blurry as you approach the end of the cliff.

"Creampie me. Give me that load."

Jieun's moans finally push you over. You feel her stop moving as you start to shoot rope after rope inside of her. You pump her pussy full with your cum.

You see stars as Jieun's pussy contracts around you, trying to squeeze every last drop out of your cock.

"Oh fuck yes. That's a good boy."

You eventually calm down, unable to comprehend what happened in the last thirty minutes. Did you actually do it? You had your first time with your classmate's mother? And came inside of her?

You are still unable to move, blankly staring up at the ceiling.

Jieun puts more weight onto your chest, leaning over you.

"You did great, baby."

She gives you another kiss.

"Where is the shower?"

"S-Second door on the right."

Jieun chuckles before kissing your cheek. She gets off of you and then off the bed. You realize she slipped her panties back on in the process. A dark spot is starting to ruin the white lace.

Taking this opportunity, you move your head, watching Jieun reach the door. Your eyes on her ass cheeks, taking in a sight, which you will probably never see again.

To your surprise, she suddenly turns around. Jieun giggles when she catches you staring.

"Aren't you coming?"

"W-What?"

"I thought you would enjoy taking me against a hard surface."

She winks at you, before leaving the room.

If you could, you would immediately jump off the bed. But your body is telling you take a moment.

Your eyes wander through your room, until they get caught on the yearbook, which is standing in your bookshelf. If Jieun would've seen it, would she have done the same? Or would she have called this off?

You genuinely can't tell.

When you hear a moan from the bathroom, you immediately jump out of your bed. The tiredness is all gone now. You realize that every second with her is priceless.

#ask #kpop #anon #kpop smut #kpop girls #kpop gg #male reader #lee jieun #iu soloist #iu smut

[yawnderu]

K-9 — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader | Chapter IV

Sick as a dog, and just as vicious.

1 2 3 4 5

What's a Lieutenant if not someone you can use as a stress reliever

Or

Being a gifted medic comes with free rewards

You weren't the only one catching up on some sleep. Simon was awake throughout Johnny's entire surgery despite having slept four hours the previous night, wanting to be available in case you needed his help, finally getting some much-needed rest after being practically forced by Price.

He wakes up six hours later, a small groan escaping his lips at the light entering his window. His burly arm comes up to cover his eyes, shielding them from the bright sun.

''Fuckin' hell.'' He muttered, getting up from bed and putting on a black balaclava. Shit went down yesterday, with Johnny almost dying, and Makarov is now free, able to continue killing civilians until they're finally able to catch him. At the very least, his best friend is alive and stable last time he visited.

Simon leaves his room, walking to the cafeteria to get a bottle of cold water and a few granola bars before heading to your quarters, knocking on the door softly in case you're asleep. No reply. He knows better, but... what if something happened to you? He uses the pathetic excuse to justify his actions, hand turning the doorknob carefully before stepping inside, footsteps surprisingly quiet for someone his size.

What a fucking sight. He stared at your sleeping figure for a while, taking in the details of your face when it wasn't pulled into a scowl or a bored expression, a small smile tugging on his lips at how peaceful you look before he realized how creepy he was being. He shook his head softly as if to snap out of it, putting the water bottle and granola bars before turning away to try and leave.

Try, because a much smaller hand wrapped around his wrist, almost making him flinch because of how sudden it was. He looks down at you only to find your eyes boring into his, tugging him closer by the wrist. A confused Simon followed like a lost dog before his feet rooted on the ground in front of your bed, giving you a questioning look with his eyes.

''Come lay with me.'' Your voice is much gentler than usual, laced with something he can't quite recognize yet. Simon knows better, really he does, but who is he to question the medic he's been pining on for months? He hesitantly removes his boots and climbs into bed with you, keeping a respectful distance despite his behemoth frame taking over half of the bed. His muscles tense up when he feels you cuddling up to him, being a painfully fitting piece against his body.

''What are you on bout, doc?'' You don't reply, simply examining his eyes for any hints of hesitation. You find nervousness, curiosity, doubt, and even the smallest hints of fear, but no hesitation at all. Your hand sneaks up to the bottom of his balaclava, pulling it all the way off before your lips crash into his hungrily. It takes him a few seconds of pure confusion before he kisses back, arms wrapped around your waist, and whatever questions he has on why you're doing this all of sudden pushed to the back of his mind.

Your hands grab at anything they can reach— muscle, skin, hair... anything, holding onto his much bigger body like a lifeline, his warm hands running up and down your back. He has fantasized about this moment so many times, yet the real thing is so different in a good way.

''Tell me I can touch you, bird.'' You simply nod your head and try to go back to kissing him, but he pulls away, gently squeezing your waist to make you look at him.

''Use your words.'' His words are almost pleading, wanting to make sure you want the same thing.

''I want you to touch me, Simon.'' Not a second passes before his lips are back on yours, tongues wrapping around each other's as his hands start to drift down, grabbing a handful of your ass. His touch is so desperate it almost makes you laugh, one of your hands sneaking down his shirt and feeling him up, defined muscles flexing under your touch. His slightly shaky hands fumble with the button of your jeans, breaking away from the kiss just to look at you and make sure you still want it. The half-lidded look you give him is enough confirmation, pulling down your jeans and getting on his knees, between your legs.

"Been wanting to do this since I saw ya." He confesses, too excited for his fantasies finally coming true to even feel remotely bashful about his words. He lifts up your shirt enough to reveal your tummy, gentle kisses planted on every single inch of skin his lips can reach as he slowly descends, planting open mouthed kisses over your clothed cunt.

"Fuck—" Your back arches at the feeling, eyes screwed shut as your hand goes to the back of his head, pushing him closer. His tongue is warm and wet, saliva mixing in with your growing arousal. He pushes your panties to the side, looking down at your gleaming pussy before digging in, tongue lapping the wetness before he latches onto your cunt, sucking and licking away like a starved man.

"You taste s'fucking good." He praises before going back down, the flat of his tongue moving around your cunt before slowly going inside, your whiny moans and hands gripping his short hair are all the encouragement he needs. He latches onto your clit next, long fingers teasing the entrance of your cunt, spreading your arousal all over them before he slowly enters you with one.

His fingers are thick and long, whiny moans escaping your lips as he adds a second one, making scissoring motions as he fucks his fingers deeper and deeper into you, tongue alternating between licking and sucking on your clit before hesitantly letting go.

"Sit on my face." It's not even a request, it sounds like a plea, though you quickly listen to his words for the first time ever, cunt hovering above his face as soon as he lays back down. He grabs a handful of your ass, squeezing the plush and pulling your body down to his face, eating you out like a starved man. His hands let go of your ass to unbuckle his belt, barely having the strength to pull his hard cock out of his jeans, eyes closing as he focused on the dual sensation of pleasuring you with his mouth and pleasuring himself with his hand, pre staining his fingers as his hand moves up and down his shaft faster.

"Fuck— Just like that, Si." Si. You never call him anything other than Simon. Sometimes Ghost, when you're needed during missions and hang around them in the helos, but the way you say his name... so much affection, even if it only comes from making you feel good. He's pathetic— God, he knows he's being pathetic, cock twitching in his hand at the idea of you reciprocating his complex and strange feelings for you, ropes of thick cum shooting out into his hand and stomach, a low growl coming out of his lips as he squeezed his cock dry of cum.

He focuses solely on you now, tongue swirling and flickering all over you, his clean hand coming up to rub your clit with his thumb while he assaults your dripping wet cunt with his lips and tongue. Your hands go down to his head, fingers pulling on his short hair while you use his face to feel good, getting closer and closer to the edge.

"Si, I'm gonna cum—" But he doesn't stop. Hell, his thumb moves even faster over your sensitive bud, tongue-fucking your pussy as deep as he can until he can feel your body shaking on top of him, thighs closing in on his head and squeezing as the intensity of your orgasm washes over you, his waiting mouth taking in all your juices, lapping at them greedily until you pull away from the stimulation, shaky legs managing to position yourself next to him, head against his chest.

"You hear that? Price is calling you." You lie, unable to contain the smirk on your lips as he flicks your nose.

"Piss off, doc." His burly arms wrap around you, a loud groan of protest escaping your lips when you realize you're forced to cuddle with him.

[PREVIOUS]

#cod mw2 #cod mwii #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #simon riley #ghost cod #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x you #simon riley x you #ghost simon riley #simon ghost riley x you #mw2 fanfic #call of duty #modern warfare 2 #call of duty modern warfare #mw2 #cod #ghost call of duty #ghost x f!reader #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x medic!reader #medic reader

[sv5hive]

all's well that ends well | lh44

pairing: lewis hamilton x fem!reader

content warning(s): suggestive content? (like one little comment nothing outrageous

word count: 2,107

note: this is a part two to this fic! thank you to the anon who gave me the idea otherwise i would have been stuck for ages!! so happy so many of you enjoyed it and i hope you enjoy this one just as much 😚🫶🏻

(masterlist!)

you let out a shallow sigh as you gently pushed the door closed with a click. last night's fight had plagued your mind and haunted your dreams meaning you had gotten almost no sleep at all. you just wanted to get all your stuff and find a small place to rent while you looked for a more permanent place to stay.

but lewis had other plans.

"hey, baby-"

"don't call me that, lewis. i thought i made it clear last night that it was over. i thought i also made it clear that i didn't want to see you again."

"ok, ok. i'm sorry. i just, i know i fucked up. but i can make it right again. i promise."

"like how you promised we would have a normal life together? i don't want to wait anymore, lewis. i told you this already. now please, let me just get my stuff and leave."

"no, just, just hear me out on this. i can't imagine how you felt while waiting for me to finally catch up to what you realised a long time ago. but i have been in love with you since the day i met you and if i let you walk away again i would never be able to live with myself."

despite what you had said earlier, you didn't hate him. and lewis could see you weighing up the idea in your head.

"saying it is but proving it is another. otherwise your apology means nothing."

"ok. yeah, ok i can do that."

he grinned at the possibility of winning you over.

"but, i need space. so, i will be getting my stuff and leaving."

"wait! you can stay here. i'll go, it's only fair."

"don't be silly, lewis. i still have my hotel room booked don't worry about it."

"no, no, please stay here. this house is yours as much as it is mine. don't worry, i can find somewhere else to stay. i know how you get sleeping in a bed that's not yours."

he knew you too well.

"ok. uhm, thank you, lewis."

"you don't need to thank me. i'll see you soon?."

"ok, yeah. see you soon."

you thought sleeping in your own bed would help you get a good night's rest but you seemed to toss and turn for hours on end. looking to your left, the digital clock on the bedside table screamed some unreasonable time in blinding red. you huffed before realising that maybe it wasn't just the bed. after all, all those years you slept in this bed you weren't sleeping alone. eventually, you did manage to fall asleep at some ungodly hour after scrolling on your phone mindlessly. but not without pondering how lewis was planning to change your mind.

the next morning you were awoken by a knock at the door. rolling your eyes, you readied yourself to turn lewis away but instead you were met with a bouquet of flowers on the doorstep. you peeked your head out to see if the person who dropped it off was still around but it was like they had disappeared into thin air. bringing the bouquet to the kitchen to place in a vase your eyes caught notice of a note gently tucked into the leaves.

thank you for giving me a second chance. you won't regret it.

he was making it hard to stay mad at him. you pulled out your phone and sent him a quick text.

thanks for the flowers.

anything for you. and i meant what i said.

read 9:26 am

humming along to the radio, you plated up your lunch and made your way to sit at the counter to eat. the recent weather had been unusually pleasant with the sun shining all day, and you thought about going for a run outside when a text popped up on your phone.

do you have any plans tonight? it read.

you debated lying to him but you had already finished with your work that day and you found yourself wanting to see him again after a little bit more than a week of being apart. you typed out your reply after a couple of seconds.

depends. what do you have planned?

it's a surprise.

you grinned.

i'll pick you up at 6.

oh and can you wear that black dress again? the backless one?

read 12:46 pm

you felt your face go warm at the reminder of what happened the last time you wore that number. god damn it. no matter what he would always have that effect on you. looks like you had something to look forward to tonight.

you smoothed away imaginary wrinkles while obsessively checking your entire appearance over in the mirror. it felt like you were doing too much but then again, you had to show lewis what he would be losing out on if he couldn't convince you. before you could check the time there was a knock at the door.

you calmed yourself down and opened the door to come face to face with lewis.

lewis swore he felt his world stop spinning.

"you- wow. you look...as beautiful as ever. seriously, why were you ever dating me?" he eventually managed to get out, audibly breathless.

your giggles filled the air as you hoped your makeup meant he couldn't see your entire face going red.

"you look, ok." you were lying straight through your teeth. he could make a trash bag look like a designer outfit and you both knew it. he found it funny enough to let out a chuckle though so maybe it was the right move.

"oh and uh, these are for you." as he remembered the bouquet of baby's breath, white chrysanthemums and blue hyacinth in his hands that he painstakingly put together himself.

"oh they're lovely. thank you. i'll just go put these in a vase and we can go."

he couldn't mess this up now. not again.

"ok, do you plan on telling me where we're going now or is it still a surprise?" you asked locking the front door and heading towards the car.

he opened the passenger door for you as you got in.

"y'know there's a saying that goes something along the lines of 'good things come to those who wait'. you ever heard of that one?" he retorted before getting behind the wheel.

"hmmm, i don't know. doesn't really ring any bells for me."

"that's too bad because i'm still not telling you."

"fine, be that way."

he looked over at you staring out the window refusing to spare him so much as a glance. you always have been a stubborn one he thought. shaking his head with a smirk, he began driving.

you were definitely surprised when you two arrived at the restaurant you raved about months ago - you didn't think he had been fully paying attention while getting ready for bed. now sat down at the secluded booth, you couldn't help but grin at the fact while in awe of the decor. all lewis could do was admire the pure joy and glee present on your face.

"what? why are you looking at me like that?"

"like what?"

"y'know, like that."

"i don't know what you're talking about."

all the other patrons must have been irritated by the way you two couldn't stop chatting and laughing as the bottle of wine dwindled down over several courses of delicious food. but if it meant he could see you so happy after everything he put you through he was ready to pay for them all to leave.

"so i've been thinking, and, i'm ready to take the next step with you. don't worry, i'm not about to get down on one knee right now, but i just thought you should know."

"what changed your mind?"

"i should've listened to you but instead i was an idiot and i let you leave. i'm sorry for that. and everything else. i guess seeing you walk out really brought me to my senses."

"yeah? well i'm glad it did."

"and i am absolutely ready to retire and start a family with you-"

"what?" you almost spat out your wine.

"i've thought about it and i want a family with you more than anything."

"no, lewis, i won't let you do that. you love racing. you said it yourself it's your whole life!"

"not anymore. i want to be there for you and i can't do that if i'm away driving every weekend."

"i can travel while pregnant, lewis. i'd follow you until i am physically unable to and we would be waiting for you until you come back home. i know how much racing means to you and i will always support you. besides, wouldn't you love to have your kid cheer you on in the garage?"

you two were cheekily grinning now at the prospect. he couldn't believe how lucky he was to find you.

"are you sure? it's not going to be easy."

"yes, of course i am. i've been sure for years, lewis. you were the one who wasn't ready."

his smile faltered a little as he wished he could go back in time and tell himself to get his act together. he couldn't change the past but he was damn well going to change your future together.

"ok."

"ok."

to everyone else in the restaurant, it seemed like a normal date, but if lewis kept his word then it meant the start of a completely new chapter in your relationship.

"you ready for this?" you were in awe of the man stood in front of you.

"more than ready."

"stay safe, ok? we want you back in one piece."

"of course. anything for my two favourite girls."

he placed a kiss on your forehead before taking the toddler from your arms.

"you ready to see daddy race? hmm?"

lewis nuzzled his nose against hers and placed gentle kisses all over her face, prompting an endless symphony of infectious giggles.

he had been absolutely petrified when you told him you were pregnant. he wanted nothing more than a family with you but babysitting nieces and nephews was very different to having your own child. even after all the baby books, birthing classes and packing dozens of hospital bags, lewis still almost passed out when your water broke. and if you weren't in excruciating pain due to your rapidly growing contractions, you would have teased him for his panic.

soon enough, his daughter was placed into his arms for the first time and all of a sudden there was nothing to be anxious about. he could still visualise the moment perfectly and yet somehow failed to describe just how he felt looking at the little one's face. she was the perfect mixture of the two of you.

"i'm so proud of you, my love. you know that right?"

season after season, he was left fighting in the midfield when he was finally given a championship contending car to restore his former glory. it was clear to everyone that lewis was more motivated than ever and that he just needed a car good enough to take him back up to the top step. all the late night meetings and simulator runs had finally paid off, as the legendary eighth world championship was won just a few races ago.

now, as you helped him prepare for his final race in formula one, you looked fondly back on the beginning of your relationship. you had everything you always dreamed of and you wouldn't trade it for the world.

"i couldn't disappoint my biggest supporters!"

"even if you didn't win we would still be your biggest supporters! isn't that right, my sweet girl?" you tickled your daughter as she curled back into lewis' neck to evade your hands.

"thank you."

you looked back at him with furrowed brows while fussing over the toddler.

"what for?"

"for everything. for taking me back, for making me the happiest man in the universe. twice, by the way."

you beamed from ear to ear at the reminder of the wedding that awaited you next year. he had proposed to you just before you found out you were pregnant and it felt like your life was falling into place at last. studying his face, you felt content knowing that you were truly meant for each other. nothing else mattered more than what lied ahead of you and you couldn't wait to experience it with the man you had fallen in love with years ago.

"i would do it all over again in a heart beat."

note: omg. it's literally 1 am but i had to finish this before my random streak of motivation ran out. i didn't think so many people would want a part 2 like i was so shocked at how many people enjoyed part 1!! never thought i'd get 10 notes let alone 100+ you are all tooooo kind 🥹

#f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x fem!reader #lh44 #lh44 x reader #lh44 imagine #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton x you

[heavyhitterheaux]

Garden

Based off the song by Dua Lipa

Synopsis: You want to spend more time with your boyfriend, but find that the two of you are drifting apart. It isn't until he almost loses you that he realizes what he has in front of him

Pairing: Jack Harlow x Reader

Requested by: an amazing anon 💕

Jack Harlow Masterlist

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

It was dark outside when you had woken up from being startled because of Jack moving around your shared bedroom. You had been waiting for him to come home since he had been gone all day, but your eyes began to get heavy around midnight and you knew that you wouldn’t be able to last much longer. You grabbed your phone from the nightstand to look to see what the time it was and it was 3:36 in the morning when Jack had promised you that he would be home no later than 8 PM.

"Babe? Are you just now getting home?" You softly asked as he began to take off his sweatshirt.

"Shit. I didn't mean to wake you up. Things just ran over a little bit." He threw it across the room and it landed in the hamper perfectly while you sat up to plug your phone into the charger.

"A little bit? You were supposed to be back at 8 PM LAST NIGHT. It is now 3 in the morning. Did you eat anything? How much water did you drink today? I don't want you getting headaches like you were before."

"Y/N, I'm not doing this with you right now. I need to go to sleep because I need to leave by 9."

"I… I'm just worried about you. I need you to slow down and take a break once in a while. I planned for us to do something around 5. Do you think you'll be done by then?" You asked as Jack has gotten in the bed to lay down next to you and pulled the comforter over himself.

"What are you worried about me for? I'm fine. Don't I need to keep a roof over your head? So let me do what I need to do since you're always asking me for expensive ass shit."

"Really? I'm worried because my boyfriend is a workaholic and a people pleaser that doesn't know how to say no sometimes and his girlfriend would like to spend more time with him."

"When things slow down, I will. I promise, but I can't let up now."

"What about meeting up with me at 5? Just us for a date."

"I'm not about to tell you yes and then I get busy and not show up because that will cause a whole new issue."

"I just don't get why you’re being so defensive about me wanting to spend time with you. Don't blame it on you being busy because when your second album came out you still made me a priority despite everything going on around you."

All Jack did was sigh and roll his eyes which you quickly caught on to.

"Y/N, I'm only going to get five hours of sleep and arguing with you is cutting into that. Can we just let it go and continue it later?"

"Seriously? And when is later because I never see you."

All Jack did was throw the comforter away from him and hop up out of the bed.

"Baby, where are you going?"

"To the guest room to get some fucking sleep since I'm clearly not going to get it in here."

"I… come on don't be like that. I just…."

"I'll probably be gone by the time you wake up." Jack muttered before making his way out of the bedroom and leaving you upset. 

You waited about an hour or so before going to peek in on Jack who was sound asleep. All you wanted at the very least was for him to sleep next to you and at least hold you, but it seems like nowadays that was asking for too much. You softly walked to the left side of the bed and crawled in next to him and he was startled by the movement.

"Y/N..." Jack started to say but you immediately cut him off.

"Can you at least hold me so I'll sleep better. I didn't come in here to argue. I just want you close to me." 

All he did was raise his left arm and you cuddled closer to him as he wrapped it around you and it almost seemed forced like he didn't want to do it. 

"I love you, Jack." You whispered to him, but all you got were his soft snores in response letting you know that he had fallen back asleep.

You felt your eyes watering and the tears slowly ran down your face and you did your best to even your breathing so that you wouldn't wake him up again.

You just simply wanted your loving boyfriend back who would always spend time with you and never made you feel as if you were a burden.

When you woke up, just as he told you Jack was long gone and you simply let out a sigh. When he left early like that he would usually send you a text message that said good morning and how much he loved you, but you didn't know the last time he did that. You would usually send them and now they went unanswered.

You had some work to do yourself and had been working from home for the past few days. You couldn't quite put your finger on what it was that was bothering you besides the obvious with Jack, but you didn't feel 100%. 

Hoping that a hot shower would help, you hung eucalyptus at the top of it to open you up so that you could breathe better and lost track of time of how long you had been in there. 

Once finished, you got dressed and decided to bring your laptop to the living room in order to watch some movies for some background noise and order some food since you hadn't felt like cooking.

You nibbled at your food all day while you worked and when 5 PM came around of course Jack was nowhere to be found. You had sent a few texts throughout the day to ask how things were going and all he was doing was reading them and not responding, making you grow frustrated.

Around 10 PM, since you still didn't feel well, you made yourself a cup of ginger tea in hopes that would help and made your way upstairs to your room not even bothering to wait for Jack. It was clear that he didn't want to talk to you so you weren't about to force him.

When you woke up it was around 7 in the morning and you had felt worse than you did the night before. Jack wasn't next to you and you heard the shower running so you assumed that he was getting ready to go out and leave you by yourself…. Again.

Once he came out the shower, you couldn't help but to blurt it out.

"Baby, can you please stay home with me today?" You couldn't put your finger on as to why, but you didn't want to be by yourself.

"Y/N…. What is it now? Didn't we already talk about this?" He answered and had an immediate attitude.

"I just don't feel that well and want you to keep me company. It's just for a day.  You can miss one day."

"What don't you get when I say that I have to provide for us? You saying that you don't feel good is just another excuse to try and get me to stay home and start an argument. You look fine to me and I can't believe you would pretend to be sick for me to stay."

"Just say you hate me and go." You muttered and stormed into the bathroom while locking the door behind you.

"Why would you even say that?! I don't hate you!"

You didn't bother responding and simply brushed your teeth and washed your face. You could hear him moving around the bedroom and once you heard his keys, you knew he was getting ready to leave despite your protests. All you could do was sigh and attempt to go on about your day.

By noon, you couldn't focus and no amount of medicine was helping you feel any better so you decided to get dressed and head to the grocery store in the hopes of getting ingredients to make some soup and hopefully you would be able to keep it down. You had gotten to the couch downstairs and were putting on your shoes when you suddenly felt lightheaded. You gave it a few minutes to let it pass before standing up. And once you did, your head immediately hit the floor.

Jack was in the studio and cursed to himself. Nothing had been going right that morning and be felt that it was low key his Karma for blowing you off.

"What's wrong?" Urban asked while seeing his frustration.

"Could you do me a favor and go to my condo to get a sample hard drive that I forgot? I don't want to see Y/N."

"Wait, what? Why? Are you two fighting again? You've been fighting a lot more than usual."

"I just don't want to deal with her right now."

All Urban did was sigh because he hated seeing the two of you at odds. He didn't want to get in the middle of it, so he didn't bother saying anything.

"Be right back."

When Urban walked through the door, he called out to you but when you didn't answer he was confused. Your car was still in the driveway and he could hear the television playing so he wasn't quite sure what was going on.

He walked further into the condo into the living room to discover you on the floor and not moving.

"SHIT! Y/N!" Urban said while rushing over towards you and trying to tap you to wake up.

"Come on, wake up!"

Nothing he was doing was working and he quickly pulled out his phone to dial 911.

"Hello 911, what is the address of your emergency?"

Jack was growing increasingly inpatient and was wondering where Urban was since it had been at least two hours since he left. His condo wasn't that far from the studio and he figures that you had coerced Urban into staying with you and gave him the same sorry excuse of not feeling well that you told him earlier.

It was another 45 minutes before Urban stormed into the studio pissed off and red in the face.

"Do you not know how to answer your fucking phone anymore?!"

"What? You were coming right back anyway. It's been on DND all day. What took you so long?"

"Your girlfriend is what took me so long." Jack immediately rolled his eyes.

"Oh, did she give you that same bullshit ass excuse of her not feeling well?"

"You are such a fucking dumbass. When I got there she was on the floor, passed out! So when she told you that she didn't feel well, she wasn't lying! The paramedics were asking me all these questions that I didn't know the answer to since I didn't even know how long she had been on the floor or if she hit her head!"

"Wait, what?"

"You fucking heard me, your girl is in the hospital and hadn't even woken up when I left because I had to rush to get to your dumbass to tell you since your phone is on DND. The hospital had been trying to call you ever since she got there!"

All Jack did was mutter fuck under his breath and immediately started to feel guilty.

You had been telling the truth the entire time and all you wanted to do for the past few weeks is spend time with him and all he did was ignore you.

"I…."

"Just come on, I'll drive." Urban said and all Jack did was nod his head as a million thoughts were running through his mind.

Urban sped through traffic and made it back to the hospital in record time. Jack barely gave him a chance to stop the car at the entrance before jumping out and trying to get to you as soon as possible.

He immediately ran to the desk to ask the secretary where you were before she gave him directions to your room down the hallway.

Once he reached your room, he saw you sitting up with your head resting in your hand while the other was flipping through channels on television that was in the front of the room.

"Baby?" Jack said as he entered the room and all you did was look at him.

"Um, what happened?" He asked again and all you did was sigh.

"Don't you have somewhere else more important to be?" You asked while turning away from him to look at the TV.

"What? You're important to me, you're my priority."

"You can save the bullshit because I don't want to hear it. You know this is the first day that you called me baby and not by my first name in almost three weeks?"

"I… I'm sorry I was busy, but I'm here now." Jack tried to take your hand, but you quickly pulled it away.

"And you can leave. I don't need you here or want you here, you have to keep a roof over our heads, remember?"

"I know you’re mad at me, pissed is more like it for good reason but I just want you to talk to me."

"Oh, so now you want to talk? When you thought something might have happened to me? You have been acting like I bother you with everything that I say and you wondered why I said that you hated me this morning. I'm being admitted for the night so you'll be able to get your rest without me bothering you. I'll get Urban to pick me up tomorrow so that you can continue to provide for us. Now, you can leave so you can go and do that."

"You haven't even told me what's going on with you! I'm not leaving!"

"Why? So you can pretend to act like you care? I have started not to be able to recognize you anymore and I don't like the person that you're becoming so do me a favor and get out of my sight."

You had been home for a few days and Jack actually ended up staying the night with you in the hospital despite your protests. 

Long story short, you fainted because you were dehydrated and the stress that you had been under didn't help either.

Jack had been walking on eggshells around you since that day and was staying with you at home to make sure you had everything that you needed without having to lift a finger. However, now he was getting on your nerves because he wouldn't let you out of his sight. It sh

"Babe, when's the last time you drank water?"

"2006."

"Y/N! I'm trying to make sure you stay hydrated. I don't want you fainting again."

"I'm fine for the millionth time so you can leave. It's amazing how much free time you have now." You fired back and all he did was sigh.

"I never properly apologized to you and I'm sorry for making you feel like I didn't care about you and you should have never had to beg for me to spend time with you. I just get so wrapped up in my head with work that it's all that I focus on. I promise to do better moving forward and never make you feel that way ever again. I want this and I want us for the long haul."

“I don’t want you to promise me anything, instead show me by your actions.”

“Can I have a kiss to help me get started?” Jack asked while pouting and you immediately rolled your eyes before leaning over to kiss him since he sat next to you. 

“Uhhh I need one more for strength and maybe two more for good luck.”

“I… look now.”

“Please?!”

You obliged while leaning over to kiss him and he quickly pulled you onto his lap.

“I love you and I should never go that long without telling you again.” Jack whispered against your lips.

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

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[its-time-to-write]

Thank you so much for the response to my request <3. the fic was better then I could have hoped!!!!

I have a new request (but feel free to focus on the story themes you were wanting to do!), I have been really wanting to see a Jamie fic where he takes care of sick reader. Could be period or illness (no preference) and Jamie has no idea how to help but tries his best. I think its a cute idea

Can't wait to read more of your fics!

Thank you so much for requesting!! Literally love when people ask me to write things. Also, apparently everyone loves a sickfic because my other one has the most notes of everything I’ve written. Anyway, here’s your fic!

there’s orange juice in the kitchen

You are not sure of much, but you know one thing: you’re in pain. It’s 2am, and you’ve gotten a grand total of two hours of sleep. You’ve given up on laying in your bed and have filled up your bath with hot water, bubbles, and bath salts. Lots of bath salts. Your abdomen feels like it’s shredding itself and you suppose, technically speaking, it is. You’re just relieved that tomorrow is the weekend and you don’t have to slog through a work day, white-knuckling these absolutely ripping period cramps. 

You don’t have regular periods like, ever, and your doctor’s concerned about your fertility. You remember waving it off with the statement, “That’s a problem for another day.” Thing is, that was just a cop-out. You didn’t want to think about it for a single second because then it would become real, and you make it a personal point never to complain about a period no matter how brutal it is because at least it’s something and never mind that your last one was four months ago, you’re ok. You have a good life and good people and you’re fine. 

It’s just the principle, you know? The desire of choice. 

The hormones don’t help either. 

But anyway, you’re in your tiny bath trying to soothe the pain you’re in, trying to make yourself tired enough to fall asleep once you get out. You breathe, in, out. In, out. 

You’re up till 6am when you finally doze off. 

—

You wake up in a sweaty haze. You’re in soft pants and a large t-shirt, on top of your sheets rather than in them. You reach for your phone then pull your legs in with a sharp gasp. You’re still in pain. 

It subsides so you reach again and check the time. 9:01. You groan. Three hours of dubious sleep is not enough. You have a missed text from Sam (remind me which brand of kitchenware you use?) two missed texts from Keeley (look at this absolutely adorable puppy! Attached: 1 Image), and a missed call from Jamie. 

Ah, right. Jamie. 

Your boyfriend. 

Who you were supposed to meet for breakfast exactly sixteen minutes ago. 

Shit. 

You call him back and he answers on the first ring. 

“Hey love!” he says. “You alright? Not like you to miss breakfast.”

You grimace. “I uh, I wasn’t feeling well last night and I haven’t slept very good. I forgot to text you. Didn’t fall asleep until 6.”

“A.M.?” Jamie asks and you reply to the affirmative. He lets out a long “shiiit,” followed by a, “how contagious are you?”

“For you? Not very,” you say. “For another girl, incredibly contagious, although some say that’s an old wive’s tale.”

Jamie is silent in confusion, then- “Ohh, I get it! You’re not sick-sick, you’re on your fucking period.”

You chuckle, despite remaining curled up on your side. 

“Yes,” you reply, “My fucking period. I feel nauseous and tired and I am bleeding so. Much. It’s like my body’s making up for the last four months of nothing.”

Jamie’s silent for a moment and you internally cringe, kicking yourself for over sharing. You haven’t been together that long, about a month and a half, and he doesn’t need to know that about you. He’s a famous footballer, after all, and a guy’s guy. Probably gets grossed out about periods and stuff. 

Then he says, “Can I come over? I’ll bring food,” and your worries almost completely evaporate. 

“As long as you don’t care about how disgusting I am or the fact that I hurt a lot, sure,” you say. “I’ll leave the door unlocked.”

—

Jamie’s at your flat in 40 minutes, which is fast considering how much food he walks in with. He’s brought a bag of Chinese takeout, plus two overflowing grocery bags. 

“This is for now, these are for later,” he explains. He’s in a pink sweatshirt with matching shorts and socks, and maybe it’s the damned hormones again but he looks hot. His hair is pushed back with a headband and you want him to fuck you. You don’t think you can convince him, though, what with the blood. And the fact that he’s Jamie fucking Tartt. And that he probably doesn’t do shit like that because it’s gross. 

Your brain whispers, but he’s here, isn’t he? so you just push that thought down to live with other scary ones like, I will never have kids, or I’m going to live with this pain for the rest of my life.

Jamie is oblivious to this, just pulling everything out of the bags and chattering on. He’s kicked off his trainers near the door, and he hasn’t made any comments about the fact that you’ve wrapped a blanket around your shoulders like a shroud, or that your hair is in the messiest bun in the history of the world. Not the sexy, reader-insert fan fiction type of messy bun, either. Just an I-did-not-get-anywhere-NEAR-enough-sleep-last-night messy bun. 

“-and me mum always drank orange juice, swore it helped with bloating or hydration or somethin’, I don’t really know, but I got some of that too and this tea that’s supposed to help with cramps, and also a shit-ton of chocolate because I didn’t know which kind was your favorite. I was thinking we can sit on the couch and watch a movie or play Animal Crossing or some shit while eating the takeout, then I can cook you a proper fucking meal later. Coach always says it’s important to have a balanced meal when you’re under the weather, and I think it applies to this too.” He stops when he notices you just looking at him. “You alright, babe?”

“Yeah, I just- why did you get all this?” you blurt out. 

For the first time since you’ve known him, Jamie looks unsure of himself. “I dunno. I mean, I do know. You didn’t sound great over the phone, and Keeley’s always telling me to fucking listen to other people, and me mum was always the same on her period so I used to get her the things she wanted all the time. And-” he takes a breath, “and I picked up on what you said. The fuckin’ four-months shit. That ain’t good babe. Even I know that. And, we haven’t been together that long, but I’m pretty fucking sure you know that too, and I wanted to let you know I’m sorry.”

You’re momentarily fixed on the way he says certain words. Keeleh. Sorreh. It’s sweet, for some reason, and it causes a dull ache in your chest. You realize what he’s actually said to you and that ache deepens. You’d kiss him if you weren’t sure your breath was gross. 

So instead, you settle for nodding and staring at your kitchen wall. That’s because option one is kissing and option two is crying. You can’t do either right now.

A traitor tear slips out your eye anyway, and you hope Jamie won’t see it. He does. 

“Hey, hey.” He comes around the counter and pulls you into a hug, blanket shroud, messy bun, and all. “Love. It’s alright. It’s alright. You’re not alone, and we’re going to go sit on the couch and eat as much food as we can and then pass out, alright? We’re not going to think about anything else except what’s right in fuckin’ front of us.”

“That was,” you sniff, “weirdly philosophical. And very sweet. And I’m sorry for being disgusting.”

Jamie pulls away from you, and you think this is the first time he’s realized how gross you are. 

“Don’t say that shit, babe,” he says, and you laugh before you realize he isn’t joking. 

“I’m serious,” he continues. “You might feel disgusting, but you aren’t. You smell like fucking lavender, for Christ’s sake. Your pajamas are clean, and so’s your hair. Might be fuckin’ messy right now, but me mum also taught me to braid, so it’s nothing that can’t be fixed.”

You pull him back against you and let some more tears come out. 

“Why are you being so nice,” you ask, voice muffled through his sweatshirt. 

“Oh, dunno,” he replies, hint of a smile in his voice, “Think you’re fit. I like shower sex. You pick.” He pauses. “Maybe both. Heard that it can help with cramps.”

You laugh wetly into his chest. He’s warm and comforting, and so completely not what you expected him to be. You both stand in the kitchen for another minute, his cheek resting on your head before he says, “Oi, you hungry?”

“God, yes,” you say, “I could eat a fucking horse.”

“Good.” Jamie picks up the bulging bag of takeout and a roll of paper towels. “Lead the way, babe.”

—

It’s not until much later, after you’ve eaten, watched a movie, and showered (and all that implies) that you realize you’re finally tired. Finally calm. You let yourself relax on your bed in Jamie’s arms, breathing in his clean smell. In, out. In, out. By the third breath, you’re asleep. 

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

[zepskies]

Miss Professor

Pairing: Jason Teague x F. Reader

(Love triangle: Jason T. x Lana Lang)

Summary: Jason has to make a decision. You, or Lana Lang.

AN: Here’s the sequel to “Assistant Hottie.” Hope you enjoy!

Song Inspo: “Look at You” by Screaming Trees

Word Count: 5,200 Tags/Warnings: Angst, love triangle, hurt/comfort, fluff and a tinge of spice.~

Jason finds you in the bowels of the university library.

Out of four giant floors of books and computer labs at Central Kansas A&M (CKM), they just had to put the Writing Center in the non-proverbial basement. There you have to wear at least two layers at all times, despite the late-spring swelter outside.

Like now, when he enters the Writing Center lobby and finds you at your desk, tapping your red pen on your lip as you work on revising an essay. Jason smiles at the sight of your fuzzy red and green sweater over your jeans and ankle boots.

“You know, Christmas came and went, like, five months ago,” he teases.

You glance up at him as he steals a chair from your coworker’s desk. She’s conveniently been on break…for two hours now. Leaving you with a mildly enormous stack of essays to edit and leave feedback on.

“Yeah well, I’m running out of winterwear. It’s almost summer, for God’s sake,” you grouse. And yet, you shiver when another pass of the AC vent above your head hits your back.

Jason smiles, but he also shrugs off his jacket and drapes it around your frame. It’s lighter than what you’re wearing, but he hopes the added layer helps. You can’t help smiling up at him, though your brows end up furrowing.

“Oh, don’t do that, you’re gonna be freezing,” you protest. You try to take off the jacket, but Jason stops you by wrapping it snugly around your shoulders.

“It’s okay, I don’t plan on being here that long,” he replies.

You raise a brow. “Oh really?”

Jason grins. “You’ve got my British Lit. paper, right?”

You narrow your eyes at him, with a light grumble. “Some friendship this is. You only come to see me when you want something.”

Jason mock frowns at that accusation, but he plies you with raised brows and waggling “gimme” fingers until you relent. You reach back into your files with a sigh and hand him his ten-page essay, complete with your revisions and suggestions for the final draft.

“Here you go, freeloader,” you quip.

“Many thanks, Miss Professor,” Jason rejoins.

The nickname always manages to make your face warm a bit, no matter how you try to stamp down the butterflies in your stomach. It doesn’t help when he smiles at you like that.

His glinting green eyes soon dim, however, as he takes in the sheer amount of red marking up the pages of his essay. All 10 pages.

“Damn, woman. Was it that bad?” he asks.

“You’re actually getting better,” you say with a smile. “I’m seeing signs of improvement.”

Jason continues to flip through with a frown. “Right.”

Though when he actually starts reading your revisions, the familiar slopes of your handwriting, his disappointment begins to relent. You’ve made corrections here and there, but you’ve also written a lot of encouragements in the margins, like, “Good use of the word ‘solidarity.’”

And, “This whole paragraph perfectly explains your point. Just add a transition into the next section and you’re golden.”

Not to mention his personal favorite: correcting his typo on eggzagerate, and drawing a doodle of a fried egg above it. He doesn’t think you do that for all your customers. 

It makes him smile.

Though he looks up when he hears you yawn. You try to stifle it, but he can see clearly now that you’re tired. It’s almost 9 p.m.

“How long have you been working?” he asks.

“Since I got out of my last class at 5,” you admit. Finally, you spot your coworker coming back from her break (and she’s still on the phone, chatting away to her boyfriend).

“Have you even eaten dinner?” Jason asks.

You shake your head, with a pointed glare at your coworker. “No time. I’ve been chained to this place all night.”

The girl gives you a fake smile when she returns to her desk and grabs one of the thinnest essays from the pile. After shooting her one last narrowed look, you give Jason your full attention. He’s trying to temper his smirk.

“Come on,” he says, nudging your arm. “Let me treat you to the Central Kansas delicacy of Chicken Finger Friday.”

You laugh at that; the university food court leaves much to be desired. You still have plenty of work to do, but you’re willing to push it off until tomorrow and take him up on his offer, if it means a hot meal and spending some time with your friend. It’s been a few weeks since it’s been just the two of you, hanging out.

After grabbing your backpack and clocking out for the night, you and Jason walk together across campus. The evening air is warm. It begins to defrost you as you two venture down the sidewalk. You smile to yourself and playfully bump into his side.

Jason shoots you a grin and bumps you back, though he grabs your arm when the heel of your boot catches on the edge of the sidewalk. You both fumble a bit and laugh.

You tuck a wily strand of hair behind your ear. Part of you wants to ask what he’s doing this weekend. Maybe he’d want to go to the lake with you, hang out on the dock, or go for a swim…

But of course, that’s when his phone buzzes. He fishes it out of his pocket and his brows raise. The text is from Lana, asking him if he can come to the Talon.

I really need your help with something.

Jason lets out a breath and looks up at you apologetically.

You know that look.

“Your girlfriend?” you ask, trying not to sound too disappointed.

Jason nods. “I hate to do this to you, but we’ve both been so busy, I haven’t seen her all week.”

And this is the first time this week that Lana has reached out to him first, wanting to see him… Well, she’s also asking for a favor, but she wants to see him.

“You know, one of these days I’d love to meet this mysterious girl,” you remark, lightly shoving his arm.

Jason smiles, but inside he’s clamming up. For obvious reasons, he hasn’t told you that he’s dating Lana Lang. Though it doesn’t make it easy to keep it from you, to lie to you. Over the course of the school year, you’ve become one of his closest friends here in Smallville.

You encourage him to explore his interests and keep focused in school, and you’ve often been a listening ear whenever juggling his classes and helping to coach the Smallville High football team stress him out.

And he’s done the same for you. With your time split between being a teacher's aid at Smallville High and working in the Writing Center to make ends meet between classes, you've done your share of venting, sometimes through frustrated tears. Jason's been more than willing to provide a strong shoulder to lean on.

Now, you don’t know that dating Lana is part of his stress, but he just…can’t afford to tell you.

It doesn’t matter that Lana’s 18, and he met her months before he took this coaching job. This is a small town, and he knows how people will talk if word gets out that he’s dating a high school senior. Not to mention, he’d get very fired.

“I’m sorry,” he says to you. “This seems important.”

Again, you have to hide your disappointment when you smile at him. “It’s okay. I should probably get back to work anyway—”

“Uh-uh. No,” Jason says, grabbing your arm when you start to turn in the direction of the Writing Center. "You’re done for the night. I wanna see you marching full-speed for those dry-ass chicken tenders.”

He nods toward the campus food court, making you expel a sigh.

“If I must,” you lament.

“And you’d better not keep working on your laptop,” he warns. “If you so much as crack open that Mac, I’ll know.”

He levels a finger at you as he walks away. You roll your eyes and head to the food court, with the promise of food just beyond the glass doors. 

After a moment, you chance looking back at Jason. He catches your gaze, and he points two fingers from his eyes to your face in stern warning. 

You giggle and shake your head at him, but you keep walking toward the food court. 

Jason smirks in satisfaction. He continues on to the parking lot, and to his car.

When Jason gets to the Talon, he crosses paths with Clark, who’s just walking out. 

“Hey, man,” Jason greets, with a jovial pat on the younger man’s shoulder. Though he can’t help but wonder why the guy is here at this time of night. “Little late for a coffee fix, huh?”

“Hey, Coach T,” Clark smiles. “Could say the same about you.”

Jason blinks at that. He cards a hand through his short hair and laughs it off. “Yeah, I was in the mood for a slice of your mom’s coffee cake. Any left?”

Martha Kent supplied the Talon with its baked goods, and they were most certainly worth driving across town for. It’s a pretty good excuse, if he says so himself.

Clark nods. “Yeah, should be.”

“All right. G'night,” Jason says. Clark nods and waves goodbye before he heads to his red truck in the parking lot. 

Jason shakes his head and steps into the coffee shop, where he finds Lana alone. She’s cleaning up a large takeout bag from Gino’s, the Italian restaurant across the street. He silently takes note of it, but doesn’t yet comment when he kisses his girlfriend in greeting.

“Why’d you send up the Bat Signal on this fine Friday night?” he asks, wrapping her in his arms.

Lana smiles up at him. “Well, I’m probably going to be slammed all weekend with the shop, but I’ve got this huge speech for class on Monday and was hoping you’d help me practice.”

She pulls those doe-like hazel eyes on him, and Jason’s almost captured by them. This time, he lets out a small sigh.

“You know I’m always down to help you out. Always. But you know, we haven’t just hung out in a while now,” he points out.

Lana concedes to that with an incline of her head, but she still eases out of his arms to finish cleaning up.

“Yeah, I’ve just been really busy,” she says.

“I have too,” Jason replies. “But even with my crazy schedule, going back and forth from campus, don't I still make time for you?”

Case in point, he was willing to come out to her on the drop of a hat, late at night, and on the crunch week before his final exams. But he would be hard-pressed to remember a time when Lana went out of her way to see him.

Lana pauses, casting him a frown. "I'm trying my best, Jason. You know I'm graduating in a few weeks. Everything's ramped up to 11 this year."

Yeah, I know the feeling, Jason thinks, but after a moment, he caves with a nod, even though his gaze lingers on the Gino's bag.

“Have you eaten?” he tests. “Let me get us some takeout.”

He almost said, Let me take you out, somewhere nice. But he hadn’t been able to do that since before he got to Smallville. He’s beginning to wonder if he ever will again.

“Oh,” Lana says. Her eyes avert from his as she wipes down a table. “I already ate.”

Jason draws closer to her and dips his chin in order to catch her gaze. Eventually, she pauses and glances up at him.

“With Clark?” he asks.

Lana tightens up, just as he predicted. “Why would you say that?”

“I saw him when I came in,” Jason replies. He tilts his head at Lana, who never used to be a good liar. But ever since they had to start hiding their relationship, he’s noticed how good she also hides her thoughts and feelings around other people…maybe even to herself.

“Yeah,” she breathes. “He was here. But we were studying for finals, and we got hungry. That’s it.”

Jason shakes his head, but she grabs his hand with both of hers. He looks down at her tan, slender hands, and can’t help but be drawn back to her beautiful face.

“It’s not a big deal,” she says, as if that can dismiss the churning in his gut.

“Listen,” he says, rubbing at his face. “I know I’ve asked you this before, and I’m sorry but…do you still have feelings for him?”

“No,” she refutes, “I’m with you, Jason. How many times do I have to prove that this is what I want?”

She seems so annoyed and vehement that Jason has to believe her. He wants to, so badly.

Maybe too much.

The last straw comes just two weeks before the end of spring semester—with the coming of senior prom. Jason knows he can’t ask Lana, but she assured him that she wasn’t going. 

He has a late class that night, but afterwards, he promised to pick her up and get dinner together in Metropolis. A nice date, a long-ass way out of town, so they’re unlikely to be recognized.

On the Friday evening, just hours before a high school dance, you and Jason sit together in the one class you have together: Introduction to Mass Media. 

It only meets once a week, for three hours. Technically it’s an elective for both of you, but you’d told Jason to pick any class outside of his major that he was interested in. Anything to broaden his horizons, and you promised to join him. For some reason, he chose this one. 

He thought it would be easy. Just a study of pop. culture stuff, with a mix of social media, maybe a dash of sports, if he was lucky. He’d actually been surprised with how much he was enjoying the segments on videography and broadcast journalism. 

Right now, however, he's distracted. You can certainly tell, the way he keeps checking his phone.

“What’s wrong?” you lean over and ask in a whisper. He knows how anal Professor Jones is about cell phones in class. The man had a “contraband bucket” to collect them in, if he caught a student using one.

“Just letting my girlfriend know I’m gonna be a bit late,” Jason grumbles, though he’s looking at the screen. “Jones is droning on past the eternity mark, as usual.”

A man clears his throat above you and Jason. You both look up and meet the flat gaze of Professor Jones. He shakes the bucket in his hand with an arched brow. Already there's about three contraband phones inside.

Jason gives a wan smile. “Come on, Professor. We were supposed to be outta here 20 minutes ago anyway.”

The lines in Professor Jones’s face betrays one simple truth: he doesn’t give a shit.

“Bucket, Mr. Teague,” he says.

Jason’s lips press in irritation, but he’s forced to drop his phone into the waiting bucket. He doesn’t see two mixed text messages from his girlfriend.

You lay a comforting hand on Jason’s arm. “I’m sure she’ll understand.”

By the time Jason gets to the Talon, the lights are dark and Lana’s not home. Suspicion creeps in, making him feel a little crazy. 

He decides to get back into his car and drive down to Smallville High. There the gym is decked out to the nines in some kind of underwater theme. It reminds him of his own senior prom a couple of years ago, complete with the punch bowl and cheesy snacks. 

But soon enough, the nostalgia comes to a screeching halt.

A familiar ballad croons from the band on the stage.

"And how can I stand here with you, and not be moved by you? ...Would you tell me how could it be any better than this?"

He sees Lana on the dance floor, wearing one of the most beautiful dresses he’s ever seen. And she’s in the arms of one Clark Kent. 

Jason's never hated Lifehouse so much.

On Saturday morning, before the Talon even opens, Lana opens the door to Jason while still wearing her robe.

“Hey!” she says, with wide eyes, though she lets him in.

“You seem real surprised,” Jason notes.

“Yeah, I mean, it’s early for you on a Saturday,” Lana remarks with a short laugh. But she still leans up to kiss him. She only manages to get his cheek, since he doesn’t bend down to meet her like he usually would.

She frowns. “Is something wrong?”

Jason doesn’t answer at first. The words are stuck in his throat. He gestures for them to move away from the glass doors, where anyone can peek in. So they travel up to her bedroom and close the door.

It’s not the first time he’s been in her room, though not much has ever happened on her bed. He’s waited completely on her signals for that one. Though now, he’s actually kind of grateful that their relationship has never progressed that far. It makes what he’s about to do easier.

“Where were you last night?” he asks. He figures they’d better start there.

“I tried calling you,” he adds, when Lana doesn’t immediately offer a reply.

“Well, I didn’t hear from you. I figured you were busy with your classes, so…I went to prom by myself,” she says.

Jason sighs. “You didn’t seem all that lonely.”

Her eyes widen. “What?”

Her confusion looks so real. A perfect face, and a damn near perfect lie.

“Look, I saw you and Clark on that dance floor,” Jason finally says. “Wasn't that just the perfect Hallmark moment?”

“Jason…” Lana finally starts to break. She doesn’t want to admit what’s broken, her gaze falling to the floor.

“No, let me say this,” he says. “Lana, I really put my all into this. I did whatever I could to be with you. To love you, to protect you. But in your heart, I think somewhere down the line you decided you don’t want that to be me.”

Lana’s eyes flood with tears, but she doesn’t deny it. 

“I think it’s time to really call it quits this time,” Jason says, “for both our sakes.”

He can’t help but reach out to her. His thumb brushes her cheek. Lana’s watery gaze meets his as her lower lip wobbles. She grabs his hand.

“I’m so sorry, Jason,” she confesses.

He won’t say it’s okay, but he accepts that with a nod, and he kisses her cheek. 

It’s a goodbye that’s meant to last.

Once he’s back in the relative safety of his car, Jason lets out a deep breath. He grabs his phone from his pocket on some unspoken urge; in that moment, he needs something. Someone.

He needs you.

You answer on the third ring, sounding sleepy on your day off.

“You’d better be on fire,” you say. Jason smiles at the sound of your grumpy voice.

“Hey,” he laughs a little, though he's surprised that it comes so easily. “You doing anything right now?”

“Besides sleeping?” you toss back. “…No. Not really. My life is boring.”

“Boring sounds nice right about now,” Jason says, more seriously than he meant to. “Wanna take a drive or something?”

You hesitate, just for a moment. Then your voice greets him again.

“Let’s go.”

When Jason arrives at your house, you come out to meet him. He gets out of his car, and already he looks wrong. He looks drained of all energy.

“What’s wrong?” you ask in concern, grabbing his arm when you’re close enough. His eyes find yours.

“We broke up,” he says.

It takes your brain a second or two to compute. (You’ve just finished your first cup of coffee, after all.) But then, you’re moving to wrap your arms around his neck in the tightest, warmest hug you can give.

He holds you back for a while, and you relish in the feeling of his hands smoothing around your back and pulling you in close. His chin tucks on your shoulder, and you rub his back.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly.

He hums in response. Sometimes, what is just is.

He lets you drive him out to the lake near your house, in your beat up Volvo. This lake is your favorite place in the world, you tell him, as you two sit side-by-side on the dock. Your sneaker-clad feet dangle over the edge, next to his longer legs.

“So far,” he corrects. “There’s a whole lot of world out there.”

You smile. “Yeah, you gonna show me? Got a magic carpet tucked in your dorm somewhere?”

Jason laughs, and you’re grateful to see his smile so soon.

“Yeah, along with a dusty-ass lamp,” he says.

You smile, but you tilt your head at him. “Are you okay?”

Jason’s grin slips a little. “Yeah, I think so…is that bad?”

You bite your lip. “Depends. What was her name? I don’t think you even told me.”

Jason turns to you, and he sighs deeply. It takes him a moment, but he eventually answers while looking you in the eyes.

“Lana Lang,” he says.

The name rings a bell…and as it comes to you, it blares like a foghorn. Your eyes widen and your mouth falls open in shock.

“J-Jason…she’s a student,” you stammer. “Not like, us students. Like—”

“I know. We met before I got the coaching job,” Jason explains quickly, before you can blow up at him. 

He can see you’re freaking out, trying to contain your reaction with a hand over your mouth. But the more he explains, the more you withdraw into a simmering silence. He can tell, however, that you don’t know how to feel about it. 

“Do you regret it?” you ask.

It’s not the first thing he thought you would say, but it’s very you all the same.

“Well, being outmaneuvered by my own quarterback stings like a bitch, but I still think I’m better looking,” Jason jokes. Because that’s what he does when he’s uncomfortable.

Too bad that was the wrong answer.

You roll your eyes with a disgusted huff, and you pull yourself up onto your feet. You start to leave him there at the dock, but Jason hops up as well and grabs your hand.

“Hey, wait,” he implores. “Look, I’m sorry. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. It was just…easier.”

“Why, because you didn’t trust me?” you challenge. “Or because you felt guilty about what you were doing?”

The truth is, Jason doesn’t feel guilty. Not for his relationship.

“I was trying to protect her reputation,” he says. “I know how smalltown people think. She’d be the talk of the damn town. And for what? Because we’re two years apart?”

“And I’m smalltown, is that it? I’m sorry I’m not as evolved as you, Mr. Metropolis,” you snark. “Forgive me for being a lowly country bumpkin with some morals.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Jason says with an angry frown, throwing up his hands in frustration.

You shake your head at him and start booking it towards your car.

Jason follows. “You know you can’t leave me out here, right?”

“Just get in the car, before I change my mind!”

He obliges you, and it’s a painful ride back to your house. He really can’t believe you’re being like this. It’s the first real argument he’s ever had with you. He knew you might get upset, but he did think you’d be a little more understanding…

“Look, we met in Paris last summer,” he admits. And a hint more vulnerable, “I just…couldn’t help but fall for her.”

“I get it, Jason,” you reply. Your voice is flat. 

“Just please don’t tell anyone,” he asks. “We’re done. She’s about to graduate.”

As mad as you are at him for lying to you, you begrudgingly see his point. You can also start to understand why he didn’t tell you. 

But, regardless of how you feel, you don’t want him to lose his job. You know it’s the only way he can afford college.

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” you say, before you can reign yourself in.

Jason turns to you with a hint of a smile. “Thank you.”

It’s still awkward when you two get to your house. He turns to you, like he wants to say something that’ll most likely soften you. 

You’re not ready for that. 

So you kill the engine and get out of the car without looking at him. Jason takes the hint; he doesn’t say another word to you when he gets into his car and peels away.

The next weeks that follow are hard for Jason. As a member of the staff, he’s forced to go to Smallville High’s graduating ceremony.

He watches Clark and Lana graduate together with the rest of their friends. The two of them hug after she gets off stage, looking at one another with a moment of blushing smiles. It’s an inevitable look.

It makes Jason feel sick. He leaves as soon as he can, going back to languish in his dorm room. He lays on his bed over the covers with his hands folded over his stomach and his eyes closed.

He thinks about you. 

He can see you in his mind’s eye, with a pen balanced between your teeth and your hair falling over to brush the pages you pour over.

He sees your fuzzy green sweater. Your smile. The shade of your hair, your eyes, your laugh, your furrowed look when you’re concentrating hard on revising a sentence.

The more he sees, the more he wants to call you. To hear your voice, even if you're just going to yell at him. 

Jason sighs. He sits up in bed and has a thought that soon takes hold of his body, and has him swinging his legs over the edge of his bed and pulling his backpack closer.

He pulls out a folder for one of his classes and finds an essay you revised. His eyes scan over the encouragements you’ve left in the margins, along with the stray doodles. They still make him smile.

And it reminds him of the first note you ever gave him, which he keeps tucked in a small drawer in his desk. He tosses the folder onto his bed and goes to that drawer, where he finds your hastily written haiku.

Assistant Hottie

You flatter me, see through me

Smarter than he thinks.

You don’t know that those words have kept his head above water in times where he’s wanted to quit school.

Or even worse, in those times when he’s wanted to go to his father, tail between his legs, to ask for money and a job doing anything easy.

So now, Jason realizes that he needs to make another decision.

He gets out of bed, and he goes to see you.

Jason travels down to the basement of the CKM library, to the Writing Center, where you’re sitting at your desk as always on a Thursday night. You have a pile of essays stacked high next to you, and your forehead is wrinkled while you read a problematic passage.

The smell of coffee makes you look up first, before you realize who brought it. Your eyes widen at seeing Jason, along with his small smile and peace offering.

“Hey,” he says.

His voice washes over you, his eyes that always manage to disarm you, even now.

Despite your better judgment, you take the coffee from him and revel at its warmth. It has to be 60 degrees in this damn room (you’re one step shy of bringing your winter gloves next time).

You sip at the coffee and hum in delight at the taste of caramel and cinnamon—a combination that only your family, and Jason, would know you loved.

Your gaze flits up to his, more begrudging as you sigh.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Teague?” you ask.

Jason grins and takes your coworker’s empty chair to sit across from you.

“I’ve got a little haiku for you,” he says, handing you a folded piece of paper. You eye him in confusion, but you set down the coffee on your desk and take his second offering. You unfold it and read something that genuinely takes you by surprise.

Hey, Miss Professor

I’ve got a question for you…

Want to get dinner?

You can’t help but laugh. It’s most definitely not a haiku, but you also know that it’s his best shot. His smile is sheepish, making yours deepen. 

“So, what’s your answer?” he asks. 

You glance down at the page, then back at him. You bite your lip, and your heart clenches. Is this it? you wonder. Is he asking you out, for real? You can’t quite tell what he’s thinking. 

“What kind of dinner?” you ask.

Jason’s grin fades. “What do you mean?”

“Is this our normal kind, where we roll out like we’re Thelma and Louise?” you ask, making him snort. “Or is this the kind where I need to change out of my dirty sneakers and brush my hair?”

He shrugs; his amused grin is back. “I mean, however I get you is all right by me.”

You nearly utter another sigh, but Jason surprises you yet again—by grabbing your hand. 

“But, uh…I’d like this to be the kind of dinner where we try something new,” he says, licking his dry lips. He looks a bit uncertain, you think, hiding the fear of rejection. “Maybe you’ll let me do my Cary Grant impression and get you some flowers. Box of chocolates.”

The corner of your mouth twitches. “Chocolates?”

“Whatever it takes,” he says. His tone is joking, but he seems serious. You know him well enough by now to spot the difference.

“Whatever it takes, huh?” you ask.

Jason’s hand tightens on yours, but his eyes never leave you. He really is serious, and it makes your heart stutter and trill with warmth. It feels a lot like hope.

He leans in, his head bowing towards yours…but you lay a hand against his chest.

It stops him, until your fingers curl into his shirt.

Your gaze slowly meets his.

When he reaches for your cheek, this time you let him pull you in. 

His kiss is sudden, but it’s still a gentle test. You take in a deep breath through your nose as your eyes fall closed. You press your lips against his, answering him. His fingers slide into your hair and drag down the back of your neck. It makes you shudder and tug him even closer by his shirt. 

Jason’s solution is gathering you into his lap, where you take his face with both hands and kiss him with unfettered passion. The locked doors of your heart are swinging open, and it’s a sweet relief to be honest with each swipe of your tongue against his. 

He’s gripping your hip, his fingers pressing into your thigh, while the other hand supports your lower back and presses you flush against him. As the kiss slows, so does your hand in his hair, more soothing now than gripping. 

When your lips eventually draw apart from his, it’s with panting breaths. You stare into his eyes, as yours brim with relieved tears. You touch his cheek.

“I better not be a rebound,” you warn him. “I can’t take that, Jase.”

Jason shakes his head, holding you a fraction tighter. “No, believe me. That's the last thing you are."

You bite your lip, and he encourages you to release it with his thumb brushing across your lower lip. You've been on his mind longer than he can readily admit. Since the first day he met you.

"I know I haven't made it easy, but will you trust me on this?” he asks. "I really wanna do this right with you."

It takes you a moment to decide, but you do. You trust him.

So you nod and brush your fingers along the apple of his cheek. 

“Okay,” you concede. "Let's do this."

Jason grins. “Oh, thank God.”

You giggle softly and hide your face in his neck. His chest shakes with a chuckle as he holds you back. It feels very right to hold you, he thinks.

Just as it's a relief for you to finally be in his arms.

“Where d’you wanna go for dinner?” he asks.

You laugh, a bit giddy as you cling to him and thread your fingers in his golden hair.  

“I don’t give a damn.”

AN: Haha, I hope you liked this! ❤️ These one-shots are kind of AU, in that I don't get into the Stones of Power arc of S4 just for simplicity's sake.

I do have one more one-shot idea rolling around in my head for these two...the reader meeting Jason's infamous mother lol (Genevieve Teague, played by the fabulous Jane Seymour)!

Smallville Masterlist

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@sleepyqueerenergy @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @globetrotter28

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#Miss Professor #Assistant Hottie Sequel #Jason Teague #jason teague x reader #jason teague x female reader #jason teague x you #jason teague fics #smallville #jensen ackles characters #jensen ackles #lana lang #smallville clark kent #clark kent #zepskies writes

[cryptidcr3ature]

Saw a post by @verdemoun about Kieran childhood Headcannons. (Super good post. Go check it out.) So inspired by that, here’s my own childhood Headcannons about Charles.

Charles’s parent’s relationship was secret at first. His mother didn’t know how her tribe would react to her with an outsider, and his father didn’t want to upset them because they took him in. Soon enough, they were open about their relationship before deciding to start a family together

His father’s assimilation into the tribe was rough at first, but he showed he cared about learning their culture, and the tribe elders really took him in as one of them.

His mother was more worried about the world her baby was being born into, and his father assured her he’d do anything to protect the two of them.

His mother’s tribe spoiled him rotten as much as they could. They gave him so many hand made toys and blankets and spent hours telling him stories that he would never remember but he was entertained anyway.

He was a very curious kid. As soon as he could, he was off exploring the woods and in everyone in the tribe’s business. His parents always thought it was both hilarious yet exasperating chasing him down when he was on his adventures.

Despite everything, his family was so happy. They shared so many laughs and happy memories together when Charles was young. It almost felt as if the world wasn’t against them.

When the three of them were about to live on the run, Charles’s uncle gave him his first bow and taught him how to use it just in case he needed to.

After they left, Charles asked his parents when they were going back home. That was the first time he’d ever seen his mother cry and his father angry. He was less curious after that day.

His mother taught him everything she could in the short period of time she could. He didn’t understand why, but he knew she wasn’t going to be around much longer.

He was only 8 or 9 when they were finally found by the government. He begged the soldiers to let his mother go, as his father attempted to fight the soldiers. Both of them were left disappointed.

His father took it hard. He promised the tribe and his wife that he’d protect her, but he failed.

Charles sort of forced himself to be “the strong one” after that. The curious, happy child he once was gone too soon.

Charles started hunting more to get out of the house. He was still just a kid, so he couldn’t find work so he started selling pelts to the butcher to earn money. This is where he earned his work ethic.

Charles’s sympathy for his father turned to resentment the more his father fell apart.

They’d argue so much the neighbors would intervene on occasion.

One night their fights got more intense than ever before, and Charles decided that he was gone. Charles’s last words to his father were “I wish you died instead of mom!” Even though he didn’t regret leaving, he regretted his words.

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr #red dead redemption #rdr 2 #van der linde gang #charles smith

[frickingnerd]

leo valdez surprising you for your birthday

pairing: leo valdez x gn!reader

tags: angst with a happy ending, reader crying, your friends/siblings forget your birthday, friends to lovers

a/n: i had planned to post it on my birthday but now y'all get it a bit earlier since– i really didn't post much percy jackson content recently 👀

you had always despised your birthdays

you never had one you could look back to and think about fondly

every time you thought about your birthday, you didn't think about the cake or the present

you just thought about your friends and siblings enjoying themselves together, while you sat at the side and watched them have fun, year after year after year

you wished you could just forget about them. perhaps everyone would just forget about it if you didn't remind them and you would be able to at least have a nice day by yourself

the day drew near and it really seemed like everyone had just forgotten about it

neither your siblings, nor your friends mentioned anything

when the day finally came, nobody came to congratulate you. there was no cake, no presents. they had forgotten about it

and despite you wishing that they would, it absolutely hurt! 

but at least you were free to do as you pleased that day and got the chance to do something nice for yourself

you decided to visit the beach. there shouldn't be anyone there, especially not during spring time

as you made your way through the forest of camp halfblood, you realized that you had forgotten the way to the beach

it had been quite a while since you last went there and it was hard to distinguish the different trees from one another and navigate your way there

you ended up walking through the forest for almost half an hour, until you ended up in front of bunker 9

it wasn't where you intended to go, but you were starting to get tired from all the walking around and decided to take a break inside

there was nobody there when you entered, but you couldn't help but immediately notice the things that stood on the table

a bouquet of flowers, a chocolate cake and a necklace made out of scrap

you quickly realized that you probably weren't supposed to see this or even be here right now, but when you tried to leave the bunker, you bumped into leo

"y/n!" leo seemed surprised to see you. "i– what are you doing here?" 

"oh, i– i was about to leave again! i didn't know you had set things up for a date down here…" you awkwardly rubbed your neck and tried to slip past leo, but he grabbed your wrist as you tried to leave

"no..! this isn't… it's not really for a date, you know…" he stared down at you and you could feel yourself getting lost in his eyes

"it's not..?" your eyes never left his as you spoke

"it's for you..!" he smiled softly and took a step inside the bunker. "your birthday, remember?" 

of course you did. how could you forget your own birthday. but you didn't think anyone else would remember it…

"i sneaked into the kitchen last night to bake the cake. the necklace i made a week ago out of some scrap my cabin had laying around and the flowers i grabbed earlier today" leo told you as he stepped towards the table

"the only thing that was missing, was…" he turned around, ready to say you, but instead he stopped and his smile slipped from his lips

"y/n, why are you crying…?" 

he looked so worried as he approached you, while you quickly tried to wipe away the tears, but more just kept on coming

leo gently cupped your face, wiping away your tears, as he leaned his forehead against yours

"don't cry… not today, okay? i– i'll make you a prettier necklace, okay? and you'll get more flowers, just…"

you sobbed quietly, quickly shaking your head

"it's perfect… i– i love it, alright..?" you smiled through the tears

"it's the best birthday gift i could've asked for…" you were still struggling to hold back your tears as you spoke, your voice cracking

"b-but… i couldn't do more for you. you deserve better than–" 

you weren't going to let leo finish that sentence

you closed the gap between the two of you, pressing your lips together and holding him as close as you could

his lips felt so warm and soft against yours and he tasted like chocolate

you had to break the kiss after a few seconds, to gasp for air and you immediately started to miss his lips on yours

"i…" leo quietly gasped and you could feel the heat rushing into his cheeks

"you've done more than enough for me, leo…" your forehead leaned against his again, your eyes closed "you've made me happier today than i could've imagined" 

"and you didn't even try the cake yet..!" leo joked quietly, causing you to laugh and pull away from him, to wipe the final tears out of your eyes

"i didn't!" you smiled. "though, maybe we can change that now..?"

#leo valdez #leo valdez x reader #pjo #hoo #hoo x reader #pjo x reader #heroes of olympus x reader #heroes of olympus #leo x reader #x reader #headcanons #fluff #angst #hurt/comfort #happy ending #angst with a happy ending #x you #x y/n #x gn reader #leo #valdez #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #riordanverse

[ranaissingle]

Take Me Home

Masterlist

Summary: Reader and Austin have a lazy day together at home with some smut at the end. A/N: This was actually a request but I accidentally deleted it (my bad). I loved the request so much that I decided to rewrite everything because I love sleepy Austin (and I am painfully single). I'm pretty sure the requester asked for smut but I can't really remember. Also, why tf is his laugh so cute in this gif? That shirt must be considered public indecency or something. Rating: M Pairings: Austin Butler Word Count: 1.5k (don't ask me how) Warnings: fingering, handjob, degradation, p in v sex, cockwarming (because I'm a whore), other sex stuff? IDK

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The soft sheets of the bed and duvet laying over top of you did wonders to quell cold air but the single best heater in the world went by the name of Austin Butler. Said heater was currently tucked into the fold of your neck, his arms wrapped firmly around your waist, and his hands under your sweatshirt.

He had gone to sleep shirtless last night despite the freezing temperatures and your warnings. In his sleep, he had slowly crept closer and closer to you until he had practically crawled into your skin; which you had absolutely no qualms with. If the repercussion of him not wearing a shirt to bed was that he was wrapped around you by morning, you wouldn't be the one to correct him on his behavior.

You had been awake for at least the last hour but you were content to lay with Austin in your arms. You raked your hands through his soft locks and your other hand up and down his back in circles. The Sun had started to peak through the curtains and shone beautifully against his naked back and golden hair. He sleepily pushed his head deeper into your chest with his lips against your collarbone and tightened his arms around you. He was starting to wake up.

You could probably fall back asleep if you tried, but you rarely woke up before Austin so you would be damned if you let this chance slip away.

"Mmmm Good morning baby" he said as he kissed your collarbone and chest again. His deep voice rumbled against your chest and neck as he spoke.

"Good morning Austin." He could hear the smile in your voice as you hugged him even tighter. There went any plans of holding him for the rest of the morning. Austin reached behind you to reach for his phone on the nightstand.

"It's only 9 we can sleep a little more, can't we?" Austin was usually a morning person so the fact that he wanted to sleep in was worrisome.

"Are you okay? Are you not feeling well?" You pull his head away from your chest with your hands to get a good look at his face. He looked exhausted.

" Yeah, I just had a lot of press to do yesterday so it drained me a bit." You let him put his head back in your chest.

"I will say that having my head in your boobs makes me feel infinitely better."

The laugh that left your lips was Austins favorite sound. He could feel its vibrations against his cheek and he swore that he had never heard something so beautiful.

"Well, you seem exhausted so I give you permission to use them as pillows if you so choose. I want to sleep some more too."

"Well, your highness if you insist." And both of you drifted into a serene sleep.

You awoke 2 hours later to Austin laying open-mouthed kisses along your clavicle and leaving hickeys in his wake. He lifted his head to look at your face as

"Hey baby, you awake yet?" My God, he thought. You looked breathtaking. The sun was shining into your hair and skin and almost lighting you up from the inside. You were both laying on your sides and Austin pulled you closer to push his knee between your legs.

"Austin w-what are you doing?" You knew exactly what he was planning but hearing the way he spoke to you when he was hot and bothered for you made whatever came next even better.

"How bout' I show you instead of telling?" As he spoke, he moved his hand from around your waist to the waistband of your pants. He inched his hand down further and further into your pants until he parted your lower lips and slowly rubbed circled around your clit.

"aah Aus-Austin, i wan- want", you moved your head up to catch his eyes so you could tell what you wanted but he seemed to already understand. He used his other hand to hold the side of your face and pulled you closer to him and only when you felt like you might burst, did he finally place his lips over yours.

He kissed you so lovingly that it almost made you cry. He pressed his thumb against your clit and when you opened your mouth to call his name, he slipped his tongue inside. Austin was a starved man and he kissed you like he hadn't had the pleasure in years and rubbed circles around your entrance asking for permission.

"Please Austin-"

He didn't wait for you to finish. He inserted his finger knuckle by knuckle to get you acquainted with his thick finger. He used his thumb to keep working your clit and the pleasure only intensified when he eventually found the one spot that made you see stars behind your eyes. You wanted to touch him, you wanted to touch him so badly that your fingers were aching and twitching.

"Austin let me t-touch you hmm? Please I wanna feel you."

His answering groan told you all you needed before you reached forward to pull his pants and underwear down to reveal his aching length. He was practically dripping and he panted as you encircled your palm around him and began to pump.

"That's it baby girl you feel so good ugh, you're doing me so well". A whimper escaped your lips at the obscene words he spoke and as his fingers continued to pump in and out of you.

He was almost out of breath when he said, "Can I put it in baby? I need to feel you around me. I know you'll be so warm and ti-"

"Yes! pleeeeease Austin I ca-can't wait anymore."

The smirk on his face and the look in his eyes was absolutely filthy. He pulled your leg farther into the air to slide into your aching hole. His tip teased your entrance for what felt like forever until all of a sudden he was inside of you.

" Umh baby you squeeze me so well. Your tight little cunt is practically begging for me hmm? I know you love getting fucked like this in the mornings. You're a horny little slut aren't you?"

His sentences came accompanied by a thrust of his length and a kiss on your neck.

"You're so b-big Austin. You always fill me up so well." He thrust harder and deeper into you in response to the praise. he brought his hand down from your face to your clit as a reward.

"Aus-Austin im gonna- im gonna cum soon." The moans and whimpers leaving your lips grew louder and winner as he kissed, licked, thrust, and rubbed you everywhere. You could feel everything everywhere all at once.

"Me too baby, do you want it inside?" Austin was also panting and moaning into your neck as he spoke. He wanted to be inside of you forever. He would never tire of how wet you got for him or the whimpers you let out when he got you close to your end.

Austin kept working your clit and thrusting until he felt you start twitching around him.

"Are you almost there baby, i can feel you twitching around me, your little cunt was made just for me." He thrust deeper and harder as he climax drew near.

" No one will ever fuck you like I can huh? I ruined you for anyone else."

"Austin! uh you feel so good. Finish inside of me Austin, please. Can I, can I cum now?" The pleasure was building up so fast and you were starting to get black spots in your vision.

"Yes baby let me feel it, I wanna feel you all wet just for me." He groaned and thrust deeper into you making the bed frame shake with his force. Your body started shaking and he dropped his head into your neck as his hips stuttered.

Austin's cum glazed the inside of you as both of you came together with moans and groans so loud the neighbors would likely be bothered. Austin collapsed on top of you with his length still shoved impossibly deep into you. He tried to reach for the towel in the drawer of the nightstand but you hugged him closer to you.

" Keep it in, I wanna be able to feel you inside of me while I sleep." Your breathy voice tickled his ears and neck as you spoke.

He groaned and lulled his head into your chest "Jesus fuck baby you're gonna make me hard again." Despite his words, he came up to give you a sensual kiss on the lips and tucked your head into his chest as he reached down to cover the both of you with blankets.

You both fell asleep and didn't wake up until well into the afternoon when the sun was setting and the room had gotten cooler.

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This was my first time writing full-blown smut and I'm not sure how I feel about it. I don't think I did too well so ill have to practice that lol. I hope you enjoyed it!

#austin butler x reader #austin butler series #austin butler fic #austin butler fanfic #austin butler #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler imagine #austin butler smut #austin x reader #austin butler x you #austin butler elvis #austin butler x race neutral reader #austin butler x y/n #Spotify

[from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras]

I’m (maybe?) almost done with a Théodred story I’ve been working on for a long time and, in looking back over some of my notes about his canon life, I couldn’t help clocking the many similarities between his experiences and those of LOTR’s other first son of a kingdom of men, Boromir. It’s not super relevant to my story, but I ended up with this running list and I’m just sticking it here because why not. None of this is groundbreaking stuff (and there are probably more) but so far I have that Théodred and Boromir both:

1. Were heirs to the leadership of their respective realms and held their land’s senior military positions (Second Marshal for Théodred—there being no First Marshal at the time—and Captain of the White Tower for Boromir).

2. Lost their mothers early (Théodred at birth and Boromir at age 10) and grew up in households run entirely by powerful fathers who never remarried.

3. Ended up taking on dangerous challenges at least in part because those fathers were both having their reason and good judgment manipulated by opponents (Théoden through the treachery of Gríma/Saruman and Denethor by the selective truths shown to him by Sauron in the palantír).

4. Got killed in a battle where their opponents were targeting them to the exclusion of others around them (Saruman’s forces at the Isen were told to kill Théodred at all costs even while “disregarding” others, and the orcs at Parth Galen fire their arrows “always at Boromir” while leaving Merry and Pip untouched).

5. Were trying to summon aid at the time they were struck down (Théodred is shouting “To me, Eorlingas!” to summon reinforcements when he’s fatally wounded. Boromir blows his great horn to alert the rest of the fellowship before he’s brought down).

6. Took massive injuries but lived long enough afterward to pass on last words in which they invoke the names of the men who will come to replace them as leaders and express the hope that those next leaders will achieve victory (Elfhelm and Grimbold believe Théodred is dead before they discover he’s still breathing just enough to say, “Let me lie here to keep the fords til Éomer comes.” Boromir, as we all know, lays there with those arrows in his chest long enough to be found by Aragorn, at which point he says, “Farewell, Aragorn. Go to Minas Tirith and save my people.”).

7. Died within hours of each other (Théodred on the night on February 25 and Boromir around midday on the 26) at the same age of 41 because, oh yeah, they were also born within months of each other.

8. Didn’t get a burial/funeral in keeping with their status and the traditions of their people because they died in awful circumstances far from home (Théodred dies and is buried by Elfhelm and Grimbold’s companies at the fords rather than in the barrows outside of Edoras with his ancestors. Boromir is sent over the falls by the three hunters instead of laying in Rath Dínen with the other kings and stewards of Gondor).

9. Mentored and protected little brother-type figures (Faramir as Boromir’s actual little brother and Éomer as Théodred’s cousin/adopted little bro) who would go on to achieve what they were unable to do themselves while alive.

10. Died unmarried and childless despite being extremely marriageable, in the primes of their lives and presumably expected to produce another heir. (There’s an explanation given for Boromir—he’s not into women and prefers fighting and arms—though there is none for Théodred.) (Like many other people, I have my own personal HC for Théodred’s romantic life, but that’s for another day.)

I’m not sure what to make of all that, but I find it interesting. We hear so often about contrasts between Gondor and Rohan—the different histories and heritages, the personality of cold, hard Denethor against kindly, grandfatherly Théoden, the magisterial stone and marble of Minas Tirith versus the rustic wood and thatch of Edoras, Gondor’s vast libraries and the Rohirrim’s oral traditions—but they’re so deeply linked as kingdoms and as individuals. By fate and by choice, they’re inextricably tied together, and I love the amount of detail that went into creating and including the subtle parallels between the first sons of each land as just one more way to see those ties play out.

#lord of the rings #lotr #boromir #theodred #théodred #rohan #gondor #oath of eorl #first sons #shared histories

[sunshine-theseus]

Lego House | Aggie Beever-Jones x Reader

Words: 3.8k Summary: 2 years together basically means forever, no matter what happens. inspired by Ed Sheeran’s ‘Lego House’ Warnings: injury, you guys know I don’t stick to actual events so, slightly suggestive maybe? this is for me but also kinda for @perfectpersuasion because they seemed really excited about it

“Headphones?”

“Check.”

“Chargers?”

“Check.”

“Passport?”

“Double check.”

“Then why am I 100% sure it’s still in your top draw?” I dramatically reach across to my bag to prove that my passport is in fact packed safely in the secret pocket that I designated purely to the piece of identification.

But it’s empty, and I have to bashfully turn back to Aggie to admit it isn’t where it’s supposed to be. She only gives me a pointed look and I’m standing up and dragging my feet behind me to grab the passport from my bedside table draw.

“I swear I put it in there Ags. Last night after training.”

“Well it’s a good thing we’re doing the checklist. It happens every time, you forget something.” Once I slide the small book into my bag I drop back down onto our couch, leaning into my girlfriend. She wraps her arms around me, and I bury my head in her neck, feeling the regretful late-night yesterday setting in.

“Come on we’ve got to be boarding the bus in an hour and who knows how long it’ll take us to get there.”

~~~~~

Naturally Aggie and I sit next to each other on the bus and/or the plane when the team travels for matches. We usually take a spot toward the back, or wherever is least populated or energetic, so that we can just be there together. Our hands are almost always interlocked and I’m usually leaning on her shoulder as we talk about our play or whatever interesting things going on.

“I’m nervous.” I whisper in her ear as we begin the decent into Gothenburg.

“Everyone underestimates us because we’re young, so when you get on that pitch, either starting or as a sub, you show them you belong at Chelsea, and that we belong in the Champions League. Okay?” When she looks at me to confirm my answer I lean forward, pressing a small kiss to her lips.

A flash goes off in the corner of my eye and I turn to find Zecira holding the media crew camera.

“The fans are going to love that.” Smiling a toothy grin, she turns to someone else, leaving us be.

-

The dark December sky encourages the cold and the light dusting of snow that begins to cover the tarmac. I wrap an arm around Aggie’s as we wheel our bags into the airport, trying not to fall face first on the slippery surface.

The warmth inside is welcomed as we are guided past the large crowds and onto the bus. Once again, I take my spot beside Aggie, behind Jessie and Niamh who were talking about Jessie’s new favourite tea. A calmness settles over everyone as Emma announces who’s rooming with who, which we all basically already know. 9 times out of 10 it’s the person currently sitting next to us.

Opening the door to our room brings great relief as I flop onto the bed closest to the window. Despite the two queen sized beds on either side of the room, it was inevitable that I’d end up curled up in my girlfriend’s arms as we huddle under the blankets, the other bed left untouched. This also usually meant that our room was the one to come to for activities, an extra bed meaning more space.

Aggie stands staring out the window, the city spanning across the horizon as the sun begins the set, the blue barely beginning to fade into purples and pinks. Old buildings and the river that runs through the architecture draw her eye as I stand behind her, taking in the way her body rises as she breathes, and the twitch in her lips as she spots something she finds beautiful, a certain spark in her eye. One that’s always there when she looks at me, hard to ignore.

“Did you bring your camera?” I ask as I slot in beside her. A hum in answer suffices as we take in the moment.

“We’re really here. Together.” I press kisses to her shoulder.

“Stamford Bridge is one thing but, we’re playing in the fucking Champions League. We’re not sat on the bench forever, we actually get minutes, not matter how little.”

“And we’re going to fucking win tomorrow’s match. Consider it an extra anniversary present.” Aggie chuckles and I feel the butterflies that burst to life in my stomach every time I look at her.

My mind drifts to the real present that sits carefully in a compartment of my bag for our anniversary tomorrow. My mum insisted it was perfect for Aggie and despite my hesitancy, I had to agree.

“We should head down for dinner.” Aggie leans down to kiss me before we leave.

~~~~~

Emma gave us a few hours to explore the city in the morning before we had to begin training and warming up for tonight's match. Jessie, Niamh and Zecira join us in the foyer, and we start our journey through the Swedish city, Zecira eager to introduce us to her country's traditions.

Not long into the walk, we stumble upon a small café on a terrace. We slide into a table and order our respective drinks, Aggie additionally getting a kardemummabröd, cardamom bread, for us to share. Niamh refuses to be apart of the picture that I take of the group at the table, but I manage to convince her to smile for the camera as we head back down onto the street.

The group splits into 2 after that. Aggie and I leave to seek out some flowers and a quiet spot to spend time together for our anniversary, while the others head back to the hotel, desperate to stay warm, although Jessie doesn’t seem to mind the cold winds.

“Look! They have red carnations!” Aggie is the one to point out the flower stand, full of red and green, that holds bunches of my favourite flower.

When the shop owner sees our linked hands, she smiles, the corner of her eyes wrinkling as they light up.

“For free.” She pushes Aggie’s hand away as she tries to pay for the red carnations.

“Love is enough payment.” I slip some money onto the bench as we leave, heading to an empty but rather beautiful park across the road.

“Happy anniversary.” I press a kiss to her cheek as I hand her the small bag. Inquisitively, she opens it and the box that sits on the bottom, revealing the gift.

“It’s a family ring. Handed down through a bunch of generations. The oldest kid gets it to give to their partner, the one they and the family think is the one. The person they’ll spend the rest of their life with, who makes them the best them.” I explain the origins as I take the ring from the box and slip it onto her hand. The gold band holds a small, encrusted peridot gem and fits perfectly on Aggie’s hand.

“Thank you. I love it.” Her voice is soft and watery, and her cheeks flame red when she looks at me. I can only imagine the love that adorns my face as I look at her. I’m about to kiss her when she has a moment of realisation.

“I left your gift in the fucking room.” The sweet moment is broken as she throws her head back and groans, and I can’t help but let out a hearty laugh.

“It’s okay.” I place a hand on top of the one she has on my thigh.

“Nooo we won’t have time when we get back, you’ll have to wait until tonight and that’s unfair.”

“I don’t even expect gifts Ags, just you and me. Plus, you got me my flowers. My favourite flowers from my favourite person. Sounds pretty good to me.”

“I’m your favourite person yeah?”

“Mmhm.” Her finger links through the thin gold chain that hangs around my neck.

“Show me then.” Her voice is raspy and deep as she pulls me forward by the necklace until our lips meet. It’s a hot and heavy kiss considering where we are, but I reciprocate it none-the-less.

I go to pull away, but she pulls me back in and I end up on her lap as we make out on the park bench. Her hands grip my thighs and mine hold the back of her head… Until we remember we’re on a park bench.

“That was kinda hot. Definitely a good make up present.” I smile down at her as our foreheads rest against each other.

“Emma’s going to kill us if we don’t head back soon…” Aggie is adamant that we begin walking to the hotel so we’re not late, so we walk hand in hand through the cold, barely arriving in time.

-

Training and warm up went well. The schedule was easy to adapt to and we weren’t pushing excessively as to waste energy before the match.

In saying that, we were up 2-1 when I got subbed on in the 60th minute, replacing Lj who wasn’t feeling all too well at half time. I felt good and energised, ready to make my second UWCL appearance.

Sam and I were gelling well together as we often did, making passes and taking shots on goal, only to be blocked by the Hacken keeper. It was a hard game but we were winning.

Aggie gets subbed on in the 68th minute, along with Jessie. The ball rarely makes it back past us, Erin often making a run with the ball toward us. Eventually Aggie passes me the ball and I try to gage my surroundings. Sam is offside, passing back to Aggie would be a mistake, Jessie’s surrounded. Erin has a clear path and shot of the goal.

I begin to run, and right as the ball connects with my foot, flying toward Erin, a body knocks against mine and my knee buckles. Nothing feels real as I fall to the floor, a loud pop filling my ears as pain radiates through my knee. I let out a blood curdling scream, but it isn’t heard over the cheering of Chelsea fans as Erin hits the ball into the goal.

I toss around on the grass, holding my leg and slamming a hand repeatedly against the ground as I sob and wale, waiting for someone to notice. It’s Sophie who places a hand on my back and yells for the ref, who then yells for the medics.

Aggie drops down in front of me as we wait, and I try and reach for her hand. The task finds itself to be difficult as my own hand shakes and my vision is blurred by tears.

“It’s- it’s my ACL.” A loud sob slips from my lips despite my attempt to hold it back.

“You don’t kn-”

“I know it Ags. I know it is I swear.”

“Okay, okay. It’ll be okay. The medics are here to look at it okay?” I nod as their hands grasp my leg, asking whether certain movements hurt or not.

It’s when I see them wave for the orange stretcher that things feel real again. Like everything was happening in slow motion until that moment. And I begin to cry again, my head now resting in Aggie’s lap as she runs a hand through my hair.

Every movement hurts as they transfer me from the ground to the stretcher, and I try not to scream out. A couple of the girls walk alongside me until the sideline, where Aggie grabs my hand and kisses me.

“I’ll come see you as soon as I can, okay?” I nod and watch as she runs back onto the pitch, her head turning every few steps to look at me, worry set in her eyes.

Turns out ‘as soon as I can’ would be much later. The medics had decided that instead of waiting until tomorrow or until we were back in England for a scan, it’d be best to go straight to the hospital. So we did.

Despite the usual wait to receive scan results, I’m sent back to the hall to wait for them. While waiting for the radiographer to call my name, Emma messages me asking if I wanted the team there. I decline the offer, knowing the girls would be exhausted after the last game of 2023 and would just want to sleep.

That doesn’t stop Aggie showing up.

I can hear the pounding of shoes hitting the linoleum ground, someone clearly running, but I don’t give it much thought as I scroll mindless on my phone. When she crouches in front of me, hands on my thigh to keep herself balanced, I have to try not to show how relieved I am. I knew what the results would be but hearing it makes it all the more real and I needed my girlfriend to hold my hand.

“Did we win?” a soft chuckle fills the air, and she nods as I put my phone in my pocket.

“3-1, because of your pass to Erin.”

“Oh, that’s good.” I’m aware of the glum look on my face as Aggie sits on the ground in front of me, allowing me to braid her hair repeatedly as we talk, waiting for the results.

“Ms L/n?” Aggie is quick to stand and turn to face the doctor while I struggle with the crutches.

“We know you already know what’s wrong but, to confirm, you’ve ruptured your anterior cruciate ligament in your right knee. You’ll be referred to a doctor and surgeon in England so you can arrange the surgery as soon as possible once you get home. I’m terribly sorry.” she leaves us with a woeful smile and the only thing I have to stop me from spiralling is Aggie’s hand on my shoulder.

“You’ll get through this. We will get through this. I’ll be there every step of the way. So will the girls. And if you fall down, I’ll pick you back up.” She kisses me on the forehead, and we begin the walk out to the parking lot, waiting for someone to pick us up.

-

Most people are asleep or relaxing in their rooms or the meal room by the time we get back to the hotel. Emma gives me a hug but doesn’t encourage us to stay or talk to anyone, knowing I’ll want to be alone with Aggie for a while.

“Getting on the plane tomorrow is going to be a challenge.” I try to laugh off the thought of all the normal activities that won’t be easy anymore as I shift onto my side of the bed.

“I’ll carry you, bridal style.” With that, Aggie hands me a gift, the gift she forgot on our date earlier in the day.

The box is rather heavy, and when I take off the lid, I find a photo album. It’s hard not to smile at the photo of us kissing that’s stuck to the cover.

“A page for every day we’ve spent together. For every day I’ve loved you.” I flick through the pages, reading some of the notes around the photos.

“This is why you take a photo of us every day?”

“I also just love capturing your beauty.” I pull her close to me and kiss her.

“I love you so much.”

“Not as much as I love you.”

~~~~~

I ended up having my surgery on Christmas day. Aggie and my family had planned on having a big day together, opening presents and having a feed, and I felt guilty taking the joy away. There wasn’t really any other choice. Aggie held me the night before as I cried. Our bed felt like the only safe place, even in our apartment, so that’s usually where I stayed. The increase in rain felt very fitting for how I’d been feeling.

Once everyone started coming back from the Christmas break, our place became more lively. I still used a singular crutch just in case, but for the most part I could put solid weight on my leg again, which meant I was able to do more activities with the team. We would hold game nights and/or movie nights once a week and occasionally I’d cook a Sunday roast.

Eventually Aggie began to take me to training. I wasn’t able to do anything, but I enjoyed watching the girls and just being in the environment again. It also made me happy watching Aggie play, it was when she looked the most carefree, despite others claiming that was when she was with me.

Aggie hadn’t left my side. Helping me shower and do the exercises for my knee. She always made sure I was entertained and asked if I needed help. Most of our spare time together was spent with me wrapped in her arms, watching a shitty tv show or talking.

“What did the doc say?”

“The ligament is looking good. They still think I’m on track for getting back in the gym in May, test out that anti-gravity treadmill.”

“And you got the team physio check up tomorrow yeah?” I hum as I adjust myself in her arms, head slotting into the crook of her neck.

I was having weekly check-ups with the Chelsea medical team and my own physio, which made it rather nerve wracking, wondering if one would feel the same as the other. If we weren’t all on the same page, my recovery time could be pushed further back. The team physio check up was the last one to confirm that I’d be allowed to start training and building stamina back up next month.

-

When I arrived at Cobham in the training kit, I felt really good. Some of the girls who pulled up at the same time as us were screaming across the car park and wishing me luck in my first session back.

I knew I’d be stuck in the gym for at least 2 months before I was allowed back on the pitch. Even then it’d be another couple of months before I was properly training with the team again, but this was the first step, and nothing could take that joy from me.

The girls started their mornings off in the gym, which meant they were cheering me on and helping me as the trainers gave me exercises to do. Aggie spends most of the hour doing the exercises alongside me, only leaving to complete something mandatory or to get us more water.

“You don’t have to Ags. You should focus on your training.”

“I promised I’d be here every step of the way. I’ll do it all for you.” She locks the leg extension and gives me a hand to help me up.

“Now onto the anti-gravity machine. First time huh?” she gently bumps me with her shoulder as I get ready to step into the chamber before Lily, my designated trainer, enables the ‘anti-gravity.’

“Oh this feels weird.” The way my body lifts with every step eases the pressure on my knee as I start to get used to it.

“Look at you! This is so cool.” Aggie doesn’t stop smiling as she watches me, some of the other girls occasionally making their way over to watch.

-

As predicted, 2 months later I begin training on the pitch. It felt lonely, watching the girls and being so close to joining them, yet so far. But I knew I was nearly there. Lily helped me with building up speed and getting used to the feel of the boots and grass again. Then came shooting practice; standing, getting passed a ball, and shooting. Eventually we added the training mannequins and Lily played goalkeeper as I manoeuvre around the pitch and obstacles.

Aggie likes to join us at lunch or sometimes gets excused by Emma to help me.

“Aggiiiie. I’m supposed to have the ball you’re supposed to just block me.”

“You gotta fight for the ball or take it off someone at some point.” Her cheeks are that beautiful pink as she grins at me.

“I hate you.” I puff out as I try to catch my breath.

“I’m wounded.” A hand falls to her heart before she approaches me, the ball still at her feet, and she leans in for a kiss.

“Nuh uh you’re being mean.”

“No I am not! Please one kiss.”

“Fine.” As she closes her eyes again and leans in, I swipe the ball from underneath her and start to run to the goal.

“What the fuck!?”

“Get better babe!” I take a shot around Lily, although not very hard considering her lack of goalkeeper training, and watch as it slots into the back of the net.

-

“73 minutes in and number 10 Lauren James is being subbed off! Who for? It’s Y/n L/n making her first appearance of the 24/25 season after rupturing her ACL in the Champion’s League in December last year. Her first game in 326 days at a sold-out Stamford Bridge! And who else is there to walk with her onto the pitch, if not her girlfriend and one of Chelsea’s star strikers, Aggie Beever Jones. Today is a great day for it.”

I try not to cry as Aggie takes my hand, making my way to my position. The cheer from the crowd as I jog on is deafening and I clap back at them before the ref blows the whistle.

Not long into play, Aggie makes a run forward, and I find a clear space between players near the goal and call for the ball. She kicks it and it soars through the air, making contact with my head as I jump. The net ripples as it skims passed the Arsenal keeper, and I’m making a run for Aggie to celebrate.

“First game back and you scored! Let’s fucking go!” she grabs me by my face and pulls me in. The kiss is unexpected but welcome in celebration.

We win 4-0, and Aggie and I find ourselves tangled up in our sheets, tracing patterns on each other’s bare skin as we whisper messages of love and adoration for the other.

“I’d do anything for you.”

“You did everything for me.”

Y/N_L/N

Y/N_L/N: this is a thank you letter to the one who’s stood by me for 3 years. who’s loved and cared for me when I didn’t think anyone would. a year ago today I ruptured my ACL, on our anniversary, and in the year since then we’ve only grown stronger, loved each other harder, fallen deeper. i'd do it all for you, like you did for me

---------

Beth and Viv’s new doco on their ACL journey really helped me with writing this. Obviously not everyone’s journey is the same so I tried to make it as different as I could with ruining it all together. I hope they’re proud of the doc because it’s really going to help people, and hopefully encourage more funding in researching the ACL injuries in women’s football and help with creating boots designed for women, so it lowers the risk of injuries like ACLs.

#woso x reader #woso #womens soccer #wsl #woso fanfics #aggie beever jones #aggie beever jones x reader #aggie beever-jones #chelsea women #chelsea fcw #cfcw

[withacapitalp]

How To Rehabilitate A Jock Part 9

Part 1 Part Eight Link to ao3 Part 10

Step 8: Make Him Feel Safe

Steve was good at dealing with migraines by now. After almost a year and a half of handling with them, he had mastered the art of looking like he was perfectly fine. 

He had developed the ultimate way of casually wearing his sunglasses indoors whenever possible without making it look weird. He was an expert at hiding a grimace behind a bitchy sigh or roll of his eyes. Nancy hadn’t even known Steve was getting migraines until July. He was that good. 

So it wasn’t all that shocking when none of the kids noticed that Steve was dealing with a migraine all weekend long.   

It was on and off, of course. There were a few blessed hours every day where the tide would recede and Steve could genuinely enjoy getting to watch them have fun. But, for the most part, he had spent the better part of the last two days trying to tread water as the waves of pain came and went. 

He didn’t have to pretend anymore. He had done his job for the night. The kids were finally asleep, exhausted after a long night of dancing in the gym and then dancing some more in Steve’s living room after the ball was over. 

Steve had surprised them with it. He knew the kids expected to just come back and maybe watch a movie, but he wanted to do something special. It felt wrong to just let the night end, especially when El wasn’t going to get another anytime soon. 

They had opened the door to find the couches and tables pushed to the side of the room, and his record collection left out for them to peruse and abuse. The six kids had taken the opportunity to continue being silly and young with voracious glee, turning the music up till Steve wished he was dead and singing along loud enough that he had to step into the kitchen to catch his breath when his vision whited out from the pain.

But he didn’t tell them to stop, or to knock it off. Steve couldn’t bring himself to do anything that might cut into their joy. It was so rare that they just got these moments to be stupid kids, and Steve wasn’t taking a single second of that. The happiness radiating off of them was worth a few more hours of hurting. 

Still, Steve really couldn’t pretend to be anything but grateful that they were asleep now, even if he was stuck standing in the middle of the room mildly worried about the conditions they were choosing to sleep in.  

Despite the fact that Steve had two guest rooms, a pullout couch in his dad’s office, a day bed in his mom’s craft room, and his parent’s giant king-sized bed, the entire party had decided to pile together in his bed. 

El was on the far side curled up facing the open door. Steve left her just enough room to see into the hallway, the same way he did when he put her to bed at the cabin. There wasn’t a nightlight in his room for her, but leaving the lamp at the end of the hallway turned on was enough residual light to make her feel safe enough to sleep. 

Mike was at her side, turned so they were pressed back to back. Will was snuggled up close to him, nearly on top of his best friend, and Lucas was on the other side of Will, half hanging off the bed. At first Steve was worried he would slip all the way off,  but his ankle was hooked with Mike’s and it seemed like he was going to be fine. He was snoring loud enough to seem okay anyway. 

Dustin and Max were lying on the other end of the bed. Dustin had taken up the entire foot of the bed, on his stomach starfished out with limbs in every direction. Max had somehow positioned herself in the middle of all of them, using Dustin’s back as a pillow and kicking Will’s knees to make more room for herself. 

They looked comfortable in the most uncomfortable of circumstances, like they enjoyed being smushed together with almost no room for themselves. As he watched over them all for a second, Steve realized with a little jolt that he couldn’t remember the last time he had tried to squeeze into a single bed with his best friends. 

The last time had to have been with Tommy and Carol. Back when they were TommySteveandCarol. Tommy Hagan, Steve Harrington, Carol Holiday, only together initially because of their last names. That was back before Carol’s mom had remarried and she had become Carol Perkins. Their elementary school days when Carol had worn her hair in two ponytails with pink ribbons, and Tommy’s favorite color was blue because Steve’s favorite color was blue. 

When the two of them stayed over, which happened at least twice a week, they had always slept three ducks in a row. Tommy by the window, Steve in the middle because he was warmest, and Carol by the door. Tommy and Steve would sit up at night and wait to hear his dad’s snoring, because right after it started there would always be a quiet series of knocks on the wall from Carol. She liked to tap her fingers on the other side while she walked towards the bedroom, making them try to guess what melody she was playing. Sometimes they would go straight to sleep, sometimes they would stay up all night laughing and acting stupid, staying quiet to make sure they didn’t wake his parents up.

The feeling in his chest began to spread, little icy tendrils poking at his heart, making Steve inexplicably homesick despite literally standing in the middle of his house. 

He did remember the last night they had slept together in his bed.

It was the night before their own Snowball. Tommy and Carol had kissed for the first time at the ball, and that night when they had gone back to his house after the dance, Tommy had gone to Carol instead of Carol coming to them. 

After that it was always Tommy leaving, usually giving Steve a lecherous smirk or some comment that felt uncomfortable at best. He knew they weren’t having sex or anything, Tommy told him everything and Steve knew that they hadn’t done anything like that until the night of Carol’s sweet sixteen. 

But things were different after that. It had been TommySteveandCarol. Then it became Steve and TommyandCarol. Now it was just Steve. 

Steve usually didn’t miss them, so it was almost a shock when a pulse of longing shot through his heart from those cold feelers all over his body, beating in perfect time with the painful rhythm banging against his skull. 

Tommy and Carol had grown into strangers with faces of the people he loved, and he was happy to be free of pretending he agreed with the cruel things they did. But there were times when Steve would watch the kids and be reminded of the way things used to be, the person he was back when he was little. 

It was hard to remember that kid, hard to feel like he had ever been that person. 

Steve rubbed at his eyes, putting pressure against his temples to stem the headache and forcing the homesick ache back down into his stomach where it belonged. Tommy and Carol didn’t miss him, they made that perfectly clear, so missing them was just wasted energy. 

What was the point in hurting himself over people who had apparently never cared? 

He had friends who cared now. He had Hellfire, even though they didn’t seem to understand him, and he had the kids, even though he would never put his problems on them. He had Nancy and Jonathan, even though he knew they didn’t care about him half as much as he cared about them. He had better people to feel bad about. Wasn’t that lucky? 

See, that was the problem with always being the person who cared more. Inevitably you were reminded you would never be as important to the people you loved. In the end all you ever ended up being to them was…bullshit. 

“Steve?”

Steve shook his head to clear away the thoughts, looking back down at the bed. Dustin was rubbing at one eye, yawning loudly as he stayed lying down. 

“What are you doing?” He mumbled, his lisp making the words almost impossible to decipher. Steve crept closer, hoping to keep the kid from actually getting up. 

“Lost in thought, that’s all, Dust,” Steve explained, Dustin nodded and burrowed his face back into the blankets. 

“C’n you close the blinds? Don’t wanna see the pool. ‘S creepy,” Dustin requested. 

Steve froze and his breath stopped, stuttered in a gasp. It felt like the room was suddenly bathed in haunting green light, and Steve could practically hear the filter humming in his bones. 

All at once, his head didn’t just hurt, it was in agony. Steve turned his face away from the bed just in case any of the kids woke up, sucking in a huge breath and slowly letting it out. Logically Steve was completely aware that there was nothing wrong with the pool. It was a completely normal pool. 

But in his mind all he could see was Barbara Holland’s dead body, floating endlessly in a sea of red. 

No. Not real. Not here. It didn’t belong in the front of his mind. It belonged on the shelf. Steve shoved that thought up onto the shelf, hiding it behind every box he could think of until he could breathe again. 

It was fine. Everything was fine. There was nothing wrong anymore. There wasn’t a monster, or a dead girl in his pool. All he had to do was draw the blinds and then go downstairs. He could sit down there with the lights all turned off for a while, and that might make it stop. It usually didn’t work, but maybe it would this time. 

But first things first- blinds. Steve didn’t even remember opening the blinds. He always kept them closed now. Maybe he needed to do one more sweep of the house. If the blinds were open, that means someone might’ve come in, and they could just be waiting for him to leave the room. 

Was that paranoid?

Did Steve have any right to not be paranoid anymore? 

A quiet knock echoed through the house, stopping Steve in his tracks. The pattern was familiar, something that had been etched into his head through rote memorization. Two knocks. Pause. One knock. Pause. Three slow knocks. 

Steve would know that pattern anywhere. 

Unfortunately, that quiet knock wasn’t quite quiet enough.

“Whazat?” Lucas muttered, barely lifting his head and slowly starting to blink awake. Steve abandoned the blinds, flitting over to the bed and gently pressing the boy’s head back to the mattress. 

“I’ve got it, go back to sleep,” Steve murmured, trying his best to sound reassuring while also not raising his voice loud enough to wake any of the other kids. That was two in a row, not a good sign. 

Somehow he succeeded and Lucas went back to bed with another sleepy mumble, mushing his face even further into Will’s shoulder. 

It was truly an adorable sight, but Steve didn’t have time to appreciate it. He had to get downstairs to the door. 

Because the person on the other side would knock one more time, and then he would start breaking the door down assuming there was an emergency. 

There was only one person who would be knocking like that this late at night. 

“Hey Hop,” Steve said as he opened the door just before Hopper could bring his fist up again. 

He kept his voice pitched low, partially to keep the kids from waking up, partially because every sound was echoing in his head in a way that made Steve want to sway in place. They were far away from the bedroom, but those kids had ultrasonic hearing at the worst possible moments. 

The last thing Steve needed was for them to get a second wind. They would wanna put the stereo back on, and Steve would have to commit suicide. 

“Hey kid,” Hopper replied, looking uncharacteristically sheepish. He was rubbing at the back of his neck, and he had developed a weird fascination with the porch light, “I was driving home from work, just going past the neighborhood, and I, uh, thought I should check to make sure that you got them all home safe from the party,”

After Nancy and Jonathan dropped them off, Steve had stood next to the phone and watched each kid call their parents to let them know they got back to Steve’s house okay. El had been the first one to call, and she and Hopper had talked for an entire twenty minutes.  

But he could fill in the blank- Hopper wanted to come over just in case El wanted to be home. That would be fine, that was where Hop could keep an eye on her and make sure she was safe.   

It was funny. Despite how often Hopper tried to claim he wasn’t El’s father, he sure acted a lot like her dad. 

“Home safe, huh?” Steve said, doing his best to keep from smirking right in the police chief’s face. He leaned against the door jamb, crossing his arms and raising his eyebrows and waiting for Hopper to crack. Just a little. Hopper was a hardass with a heart of gold, and moments like these always showed off how much that heart really shined, “You know, I could’ve sworn you had already driven home, seeing as El called the cabin earlier, and not your office,” 

“Shut up,” The chief sighed, running his fingers through his rapidly thinning hair, “She’s okay?”

“Already asleep. Come see for yourself,” Steve replied, pushing himself out of the doorway and waving a hand to beckon the man inside. He heard Hopper shut the door behind them both, throwing the house back into beautiful, comfortable darkness. 

The tension in Steve’s shoulders melted away, and he sighed in relief. Every step came with a pulsing beat of pain knocking against his skull, and nausea was starting to slither around in his stomach. Steve climbed the stairs laboriously, each step another challenge to overcome. 

Luckily Hopper didn’t seem to notice Steve’s struggles, too preoccupied with his worry over El and how she was handling her very first dance. That was good. Hopper was distracted, and if Steve played his cards right, he would have the man out long before his migraine got bad enough that it would be noticeable. 

The low light from the lamp was enough to navigate the upstairs hallway, and Steve easily slipped through his open bedroom door, going to close blinds as Hopper quietly approached the chaotic spread of kids on his bed. The weird fluttering in his chest settled once the curtains were drawn, the pool hidden from view where it couldn’t haunt his children. 

And Steve turned around and saw Hopper with El.

There was a far too fond look on the other man's face, a kind of fatherly affection that twisted Steve’s stomach in a way that had nothing to do with his headache. He watched as Hopper gently put his hand on top of El’s head, brushing her curls away from her face and humming softly as she sleepily pushed into his touch.

A painful rush of envy shot through Steve, stabbing directly into his left eyelid and making starbursts dance along his vision. He shut his eyes, tightly squeezing them and biting on the tip of his tongue as his hand automatically came up to pinch at the bridge of his nose. 

God damn it.

Over the years, Steve had gotten good at hiding how jealous he got. He could brush off any weird little moments behind a well placed joke or by pretending like it had never happened. 

It was probably his worst trait. Tommy used to like to joke about it, making fun of how possessive Steve was over things that were ‘his’. Before they had come up with that stupid King nickname, he and Carol both used to joke that Steve was like a dragon. He wanted the whole world to be his horde. 

They had it wrong.

No, Steve had never wanted the whole world. Just the things he had never had gotten to have. It was a bad little habit- to always be wanting, always hoping, always getting disappointed- but Steve couldn’t figure out how to break it. 

Of course it would have to rear its ugly head again now, when he was defenseless against the bitterness coursing through his veins.

It was disgusting to be jealous of a little girl, wasn’t it? Especially a little girl who had spent the majority of her life without any kind of soft or loving touch at all. El wasn’t like Steve, who was just unsatisfied with everything that life had given him despite having so much more than most people did. She had been through hell and back. Literal, actual, hell. 

She deserved a dad like Hopper more than any person on the planet, and Steve genuinely was happy that they had managed to grow into the perfect little family of two. 

It just also kind of hurt to have to watch them be that perfect family. 

He took in a short shaking breath, hating the way his entire body was starting to vibrate. Shaking was always a bad sign, another marker that he was quickly racing towards the point of no return. Something about the migraine had accelerated, and he was going downhill fast. 

He needed to get Hopper out. Now. 

“You alright?” 

Steve forced his hands to his side and opened his eyes, suddenly extremely happy that he had shut the curtains. There was barely any light in the room, just a little hint drifting in from the hallway. 

There was almost no chance Hopper could see the way his eyes were watering from all the way across the dark room. 

“Yeah. One hundred percent,” Steve forced out, hoping that Hopper wouldn’t hear the pain that was starting to constrict his throat, making his words choked and cut off. “We should get out of here. Before they wake up,” 

Hopper nodded once, leaning down to press a soft kiss to El’s cheek before he straightened up. He walked out, and Steve obediently followed, rapidly blinking. His heart was starting to beat at an uncomfortable click once more, and the anxiety gathering in his chest was not helping the growing pressure behind his eyes. 

Steve put a hand against the wall for support as they walked back towards the stairs, deliriously thinking about tapping out a song the way Carol would have. 

It was okay. It would all be fine. This was almost over. 

He just needed to get Hopper out the door, and then he wouldn’t even try to get to the couch or anything. The second the door was locked, Steve could just sink right onto the floor in the foyer. After a few hours of lying there curled up on the cool stone, he’d recover enough to crawl into the living room. 

It wasn’t an ideal plan, but it was something, and Steve had to cling onto that as bile began to rise in his throat. 

He made it halfway down the stairs before everything began to fall apart. 

Steve probably would have pulled it off, but the perfect ripple of vertigo tore through him just as he tried to place his foot onto the fourth step down. Steve missed it, nearly toppling over, only staying upright due to the deathgrip he had on the railing. He held onto it with both hands, his knuckles all completely white as the world tipped first to one side, then the other.

A whimper managed to slip past his lips as the dam broke, and Steve cursed himself, gritting his teeth against the humiliating burn behind his eyes. 

“Woah. Kid?” Hopper’s voice floated in from somewhere to his left, and Steve dragged in an excruciating breath. 

“‘M okay,” Steve murmured, keeping his eyes shut as another wave washed over him. His shoulders hunched harshly inward and his back began to bow as he curled up, trying to shield himself from pain that was coming from inside. 

“I’m okay,” Steve whispered again, mostly to himself, “‘M okay. I’m okay,” 

He continued to repeat the words over and over, loathing himself for how pathetic he sounded, but unable to stop. The headache was cresting, reaching a peak, and when moments like these came, the only thing Steve could do was try to keep breathing. 

Steve slowly lowered himself onto the carpeted stair, letting his hands slide down the slats of the handrail. He rested his head against one of the beams, continuing to tell himself that he was okay, the words barely carrying as he started to run out of breath. 

“Steve?” Hopper asked. That was not good. Hopper never called him ‘Steve’. It was always ‘Kid’ or ‘Harrington’ or ‘Smartass’. ‘Steve’ was reserved for moments when he fucked up, or moments when Hop thought Steve was close to losing it. 

He could guess which of those two this moment was. 

“Just a headache,” Steve managed to say, his voice embarrassingly thick. He sounded like a third grader who had fallen off his bike and skinned both knees. 

He was supposed to be better than this, supposed to be stronger than this. Steve tried to swallow down the lump in his throat, speaking again. 

“It’ll go away. I just need a minute,” He gasped. God, he was such a bad liar. 

A minute? Please. A hundred years wouldn’t be enough to fix what was fucked inside of him. 

No, Steve was going to need a hell of a lot more than just a minute. He was going to need a magical pill that cured migraines, at least one full night of sleep, and something to make him forget everything that had happened to them in the last two years. It just felt too big right now, and he needed some way of making things shrink again. 

But, he wasn’t going to get any of those things, so a minute was all he asked for. 

“Okay,” Hopper said, trailing off. Steve heard the stairs creak, and he felt a heavy weight sit on the step next to him. 

It was already humiliating enough that he was going to end up having a little meltdown over a stupid headache, having Hopper witness it would just make the whole experience a thousand times worse. 

“You don’t have to stay. It’ll stop. It always does. I just need a minute,” Steve said, trying to get Hopper to leave, his voice still far too small and starting to tremble. His entire body was shaking again. 

That was the worst part. 

The rest of it, Steve could probably power through if he needed to. Yeah, his head hurt, and yeah, he was dizzy, but he had managed to fight through those things before. Adrenaline was a hell of a drug, and Steve was used to fighting handicapped. 

But, if something went wrong right now, he would be useless. His hands were shaking too hard to hold his bat properly, and it definitely wasn’t possible to get a good swing in when his whole body was quivering like a leaf in a strong breeze.

Steve was useless if the monsters came right now. He couldn’t protect them. Hell, he couldn’t even protect himself when he was like this. 

“Kid-”

“Jesus, Hopper!” Steve snapped harshly, using the only shield he had in moments like these, “Would you just leave me alone?! I’ll be fine in a minute,” 

Instant quiet. Steve froze, a deer in the headlights of a car he was driving himself. Revulsion filled his mouth, acidic and bitter. He was shaking even worse now, but that wasn’t because of his migraine. 

Why was he like this? Hopper was just trying to do the right thing, and instead of being grateful, Steve had yelled at him. Why couldn’t he just do the right thing for once? 

“Steve-”

“It’s fine. I deal with these by myself all the time. It’s not a big deal. I’m sorry I yelled. I shouldn’t’ve done that. You can go, really. It’s fine, it’s-” Steve’s panicked mumbling was cut short by a hiss as his mouth involuntarily opened in a silent scream as the next pulse of pain slid through his left eye socket. Steve was grateful he was facing away from Hopper as the tears finally began, resenting himself for how weak he was being.

The presence next to him shifted and Steve could just barely hear Hopper starting to walk down the stairs as the blood rushed in his ears. He let out a soft sigh, feeling utterly spent and run completely ragged. 

Steve was happy Hopper was leaving. He was. This would be easier if he didn’t have to pretend he was okay. He had told Hopper to go, this was what he had wanted. 

So why did he feel so lost? Why was there an odd sense of betrayal gripping his throat and making every breath hitch? 

Steve had never wanted any of them to see him like this. He had just practically screamed at Hopper to leave. He swore to himself that he would never let anyone see him this broken. 

And now, no one would. Hopper was gone. Steve was alone again. Which is exactly what he asked for. 

It was just…shocking, that was all. Hopper seemed like the type who would fight, the kind of guy would force Steve to let him stay and help. Not the kind who would pick up and go the second he was told to. 

But maybe that stubbornness was reserved for the kids. The kids, and maybe Nancy, and Jonathan, and Joyce. They were all connected to Hop in some way after all.

Who was Steve really? In the grand scheme of things, Steve could admit he wasn’t anyone. The babysitter? The guy with the big empty house that was perfect for hiding El when she wanted to get out of the cabin? The kid screaming in his face to go? 

He wasn’t anything special, no one that really mattered. Hopper was probably happy Steve told him to go. Who wanted to deal with a meltdown from a person who was practically a stranger after all? It was probably so awkward to watch Steve fall apart and feel like he was obligated to try to help. It was definitely a relief when Steve said he didn’t have to say. 

That was good. That had to be good. Steve had to be happy Hopper left. Because if he wasn’t, then he might really start crying, and he didn’t want to do that. He would wake the kids. 

Steve was so lost drowning in his thoughts that he didn’t hear the stairs creaking again. He didn’t feel the person sitting next to him, but he did feel the cool, almost cold thing falling on his neck. 

What was that?! 

“Just me, kid. Just me,” Hopper softly murmured when Steve jumped at the sensation, his head snapping so hard to the side that they both heard a sharp crack. Hop held his hands out in front of him, staying still and letting Steve see he wasn’t an enemy. 

Steve blinked, then burst into action, roughly scrubbing at his cheeks. He had no idea why he was trying to hide that he was crying when they both obviously knew he was, but Steve tried to hide anyway. 

He was good at hiding. He wasn’t good at whatever this was. 

Steve half turned away again, sitting straight on the steps and letting his head hang heavy between his knees. His hair was in his face, any styling completely wrecked by the way he had been running his hands through it all night long. 

He definitely looked pathetic. Probably like a wet rat. 

“I don’t- what are you doing?” Steve finally managed to whisper, keeping his eyes down. 

Hopper paused, studying Steve for a second before carefully reaching over, silently adjusting the cool washcloth he had put on Steve so it was fully covering the back of his neck. 

It felt like heaven on his overheated skin, a soft refreshing sensation that gave Steve something to focus on besides how bad he felt. When the washcloth was positioned how he wanted it, Hopper moved his hand slightly lower, pressing gently, but firmly, into the space between Steve’s shoulder blade. 

Steve couldn’t help the long slow breath that escaped his lungs, leaning back into the comforting touch ever so slightly, letting his mind think only about that single point of contact, and not on the way his head was trying to crack in half. 

But…no. No, this wasn’t right. Steve wasn’t supposed to have this. He wasn’t supposed to let himself act like this. He wasn’t some kid. He was supposed to be the adult, the one in charge who took care of everyone else. 

“You don’t- it’s-” Steve stammered, trying to get his brain to put together the words it wanted to say. 

“Shhhhhh,” Hopper said, letting his hand slowly rub up and down Steve’s back, “Just breathe, okay? You’re gonna be alright, kid. You’ll be alright.” 

Any other night Steve would have argued more, would have forced all his jagged edges to fit into a box. He would’ve found more room on his shelf. But he was too tired to keep going, too in pain to pretend. Three days of this had worn away any fight left in his body. 

If it was going to be anyone, Hopper was the safest option to hand over responsibility to. 

So, Steve let someone else stay steady, drifting and feeling the tension in his body leak away bit by bit the longer they stayed where they were. Every breath was a challenge, but they came easier and easier the longer Steve sat there. He had no idea how much time has passed, but it felt like forever. 

But Hopper never wavered, never gave any indication that he was getting tired of holding Steve together. He didn’t even yawn, and Steve knew he had to be tired after a full day of work. 

And, when Steve finally straightened up and stretched showing that he was okay to stand up, he still stayed. 

Hopper kept his hand on Steve’s back as he directed them towards the kitchen without words. He flicked the light on, immediately dimming them to almost nonexistent and depositing Steve in the wooden chair closest to the stove. He walked towards the cabinet with the mugs, muttering softly to himself. As he began to root around and search, Steve took a quick scan of his own body. 

He wasn’t hot anymore, and the worst of the pain had passed. There were still little aftershocks, moments where the pain came again, but it was duller, less spread out. 

“Water?” Hopper asked, turning and holding two identical blue cups aloft. 

“Coffee,” Steve replied. 

“No. You are going to bed after this,” Hopper stated in a very final tone, giving Steve a no nonsense look.  

“The caffeine helps with the migraine,” Steve explained, propping his head up with his fist and blinking slowly. Aftershocks always came with fatigue, and Steve was pretty sure he could sleep for a thousand years at this point, “Coffee puts me to sleep anyway,”

“Coffee puts me to sleep,” Hopper repeated with an incredulous laugh. 

He was shaking his head in disbelief, but he still grabbed the coffee can and a filter. Steve was going to explain that coffee had always put him to sleep, it was a trick his Nonna had learned when he was five, but a long loud yawn interrupted the words before they could come to fruition. 

“Do you have some kind of medication you take for these headaches?” Hopper asked as he flipped the switch to start the machine, “I looked in the bathroom but I couldn’t find anything.” 

“Migraines,” Steve amended. He could handle any old headache. These were too big to pretend through, “I take aspirin, but it only helps sometimes.”

“I mean actual medication. Something a doctor prescribed,” Hopper said as he sat down across from Steve. 

He was watching him carefully, and any thought Steve had of lying went out the window. He was bad at lying at the best of times, and everyone in their weird little group seemed to have a radar for when Steve was trying to fib. 

Time to find a “creative” way to tell the truth. 

“My parents, um, they didn’t think it was necessary,” Steve said as casually as he could, shrugging and hoping that could be the end of it. 

His father had been silent when they had been called home to pick up their son from the hospital with his second concussion. Well, silent until they got home. 

The first time around, his mother had been frantic, and his father’s ire had been pushed to the side. This time? Steve was pretty sure his dad yelled for four hours straight. And when he was done, Steve’s mom had taken a turn. 

They were disappointed he had gotten into another fight. They were angry he had automatically gone for his fists instead of his words. They were confused as to why he would do this to them again, and they only got angrier the more Steve avoided answering their questions. 

It wasn’t like he could tell them why he was even at the Byers house that night.

Worst of all, his parents were also absolutely sure he was just trying to get pain meds. 

He wasn’t exactly positive where they had gotten the idea that he was an addict, but they were firmly convinced of it, and there was nothing he could say to change his parents’ minds. His father had overturned his room and bathroom searching, only getting even more infuriated when he couldn’t find any evidence of his son’s drug habit. 

Steve had been forced to tell them over a dozen times that Billy was the one who escalated things, that he had only been defending himself by the end, but it wasn’t the end that mattered to them. It was the beginning. 

It was the beginning that mattered because Steve was the one who threw the first punch. Steve was the one who had asked for a prescription for pain meds. 

Nevermind that the punch was thrown after Billy had held Lucas against a wall and threatened his life. Nevermind that Steve had only asked for the medication when the doctor had told him the migraines might never go away. 

His father had eventually decided that if Steve wanted to be stupid enough to pick fights that he knew he would lose, then he was just going to have to deal with the consequences. If the consequence was getting headaches that made him feel like his head was being cut open by a chainsaw, then that was Steve’s own fault. He was overexaggerating anyway. Maybe the next time he would make a better decision. 

Richard Harrington was not going to spend his hard earned money enabling Steve’s violent tendencies, or his apparent drug problem. 

But, judging by the look on Hopper’s face, he didn’t agree with the older Harrington’s particular brand of tough love. 

“Jesus,” Hopper said, quietly swearing to himself. He rubbed at his temple, looking completely fed up, “Okay. I’m going to take you to the doctor sometime this week, and we’ll sort that out. Alright?”

“You don’t have to. It’s not that big of a deal,” Steve tried to protest, wracking his brains for a good excuse. His dad would flip a lid if he found any drugs in the house. It wasn’t like he or Mom were home much anymore, but the possibility was making Steve’s stomach do cartwheels. 

“I- um- my parents really don’t want me hooked on drugs…”

God it sounded stupid. Worse, it made him sound like he really was an addict. Steve had never done more than smoke marijuana, and even that had stopped after his first brush with the Upside Down, but he was stuttering and shaking like a junkie afraid of the next fix. 

“Steve? I wasn’t asking,” Hopper said, crushing any argument with a single look, “We’ll ask Dr. Owens, he’s good for stuff like this, and you can keep the meds at the cabin if you’re really worried. How often are you getting these head- uh migraines?”

Two or three times a week. Sometimes more. 

“I dunno, not that often.,” Steve said, shrugging again. He could hear the coffee machine beginning to brew, and the best scent in the world began to fill his nose, “They only got bad after my fight with Billy,”

“I should’ve run that kid in,” Hopper said, mostly to himself. Steve huffed out a little laugh, standing up slowly and walking towards the half full fresh pot. 

“Yeah, turns out having a plate smashed against your skull isn’t all that good for you,” He joked, keeping his head pointed towards the coffee and not Hopper. It was the kind of joke that the kids would laugh at, the kind that would make Nancy roll her eyes and get Jonathan to quickly change the subject. 

Hopper didn’t do any of that. Hopper didn’t respond at all, and when Steve turned around holding two steaming mugs, the man was staring him down. Steve chewed on the inside of his lip and slipped back into his seat, holding his coffee in both hands and taking one long slow sip. 

It was bitter. It was kind of gross. 

It was glorious. 

“It’s not a big deal, I usually don’t get them if I get enough sleep,” Steve muttered when the silence had stretched past its breaking point. He knew it was a mistake the second the words were out of his mouth. 

“And how often are you getting enough sleep?” Hopper wondered in a terribly fake casual tone, taking a slow sip of his own drink. 

“Don’t I have the right to remain silent?” Steve wondered, trying to find a joking way to get out of this. They both knew the actual answer, it was written in the haunted look in Steve’s eyes and the dark circles sitting just underneath them. 

But. Appearances, appearances. 

“If you were under arrest, yes,” Hopper answered, putting his cup down, “But since you aren’t, I think you should tell me.”

“When’s the last time you got enough sleep?” Steve shot back, needing to argue. He was still on the defensive, and his walls were coming up at lightning speed. He had his moment of weakness, he had the single minute he needed to put himself together again, and now that it was over Steve didn’t want to continue being weak. 

Hopper, sensing that Steve was shutting him out, backed down. 

“Alright, well, you’ll get some tonight,” He said, knowing that was the closest they would come to a middle ground. He picked up his cup again, and Steve took a sip from his own, “Anything new? Anything interesting happening in the life of Steve Harrington?”

Was it an awkward little segway? Yes. 

Was Steve taking it? Abso-fricken-lutely. 

“I joined a club at school,” Steve offered. 

“That’s good. A little normalcy. Getting back into sports?” Hopper asked. 

“No, I'm still on medical. They’re worried about a second impact something, cause I got two concussions really close to each other? I’m not gonna be allowed to even play in practice until late January, early February. Billy’s captain now, ” Steve explained, his relief at not having to talk about his sleeping habits starting to dim. 

It hurt, not being able to be with his team. This was the first year that they had a real shot at the championship in years, and Steve was benched. His senior year and he was being kept from playing at all, and probably didn’t have a shot even if he was cleared. There was a lot of secrecy around what had happened between Steve and Billy, but ultimately Steve was the one with a concussion and Billy wasn’t. 

To their coach, all that mattered was who could play. 

It stung like all hell to have to watch Billy act like a captain when he had zero interest in anyone but himself. Steve just had to sit on the sidelines and stare while Billy ran the team through endless suicides and took sick pleasure in making the Freshman run until they threw up. Half of their reserves had already quit, and there was a rumor that there would be almost no underclassmen trying out next year. Even Tommy seemed like he was getting tired of Billy’s sadistic tendencies. 

And Steve couldn’t do a damn thing. 

It was maddening. Steve was their captain, not Billy. He had taken a lot of time to get to know his team, to be able to tell when they needed to be pushed and when they needed a break, and Billy was destroying all of that. 

“It’s probably for the best,” Steve said, unable to hide how jaded he was, “I should be focusing on school and stuff,” 

“No, that sucks. I’m sorry kid,” Hopper said, making Steve pause, “Those are your guys. It’d kill me to have to watch someone else take my place, especially if I knew it was someone who didn’t deserve it.”

When he had told his father that he wasn’t allowed to play, he had said it was Steve’s own damn fault. When he told his mother that the coach had replaced him, she had said this was a chance for him to focus on getting into college.

Hopper just understood, somehow instantly hitting the heart of what was bothering Steve most. 

“So what club did you join?” Hopper wondered, acting like he hadn’t just perfectly summed up one of the problems Steve had been struggling with all month. 

“Hellfire,” Steve responded. 

“Hellfire?” Hopper repeated, raising a brow, “What the he- What’s Hellfire?”

Steve blushed, staring down at the table. It wasn’t like Hopper didn’t know about DnD, but Steve already knew how he was going to take the news. 

“It’s a dungeons and dragons club,” Steve admitted, watching Hoppers immediate over the top reaction

“There’s no escape. I swear to god, no one is safe from this game. It’s like a cult,” Hopper groaned, laying his head flat on the table in front of him. Steve snorted, breaking his first smile since the stairs, and Hopper raised his head up at the noise.

“No, don’t act like I’m overexaggerating,” He said. His tone was defensive, but he was grinning when he saw that Steve had finally cracked a grin,  “First the boys, then Max and El, now you. Next thing I know Joyce will be calling me over to put together an offense.”

“Write a campaign,” Steve corrected, taking a sip of his coffee. 

“It’s a cult,” Hopper growled again in his normal angry tone. Steve put his mug down, biting the corner of his lip to try and hold back how big his stupid smile was trying to grow. 

“Oh yeah, a spooky little cult for the nerdiest game ever invented. We’re gonna sacrifice the head cheerleader under the full moon next month,” Steve said, channeling his inner Eddie to add the perfect flair of dramatics and wiggling his fingers for emphasis, “Our leader told us that it’ll give us special powers,”  

“And who is this leader of yours? Albert Einstein?” Hopper wondered

“No. Eddie Munson,” 

Hopper choked when he heard Steve’s answer, nearly slamming his cup down. 

“Eddie Munson…the drug dealer?” Hopper said in a demanding tone, giving Steve one of his patented ‘Dad’ looks. It was kind of the thing he normally reserved for El. Steve rolled his eyes, ignoring the soft warmth starting to bloom in his chest. 

“He sells drugs? I had no clue,” Steve said in an extremely exaggerated tone, letting his sarcasm take hold and overwhelm any part of him that was reading too much into the interaction, “We’re just playing a game Hopper, not doing a deal.” 

“Look, just be careful around Munson, alright?” Hopper said, knocking his knuckles against the wood of the table. 

“Careful?” Steve raised a brow. 

Sure, Eddie was a little strange and sometimes overwhelming, but Hopper was talking like Eddie was dangerous. The nod he gave Steve was grave, and he seemed genuinely worried. 

“Hop, Eddie’s like a human puppy,” Steve said with a soft laugh. 

He thought about the way Eddie had jumped at the chance to welcome Steve into his group, and the soft sound of his voice as he read out loud for hours just to help Steve understand. Steve’s mind jumped to the joy on the kids’ faces as they got to come into the game, and the gentle voice Eddie used when he called him ‘Sweetheart’ and how he had apologized the second he realized he had hurt Steve. 

Dangerous?

Steve had never met a person who felt safer to him. 

It was instinctive, just something he knew. Like how he knew he had to run back into that house that night, the way he knew he had to put himself in front of the kids. Something in him just knew Eddie wouldn’t hurt him. 

“He’s really nice. He even invited me to come to a show on Tuesday,” Steve said instead of any of that, hating the way his cheeks were heating up. Had it gotten hot in the house all of a sudden? 

“A show,” Hopper drawled, pursing his lips. His eyes were starting to twinkle in a dangerous way, and Steve needed to get as far away from this conversation as possible. 

“You know I’m sooooo tired. I think I should probably be hitting the hay now. Growing boy and all that. Time to couch it,” Steve stammered, making a show of stretching and yawning. Hopper chuckled and grabbed their mugs bringing them to the sink. 

“Oh no I will be the one taking the couch tonight,” Hopper corrected him, walking over and putting his hand back on Steve’s shoulder, pushing him softly towards the stairs. 

“Where exactly am I supposed to go?” Steve protested, looking behind him. 

“There’s other beds upstairs,” Hopper pointed out, “I’ll keep watch or whatever crazy plan you had instead of actually getting the sleep you need,” 

“But-”

“Nope. Upstairs. Hup two. You don’t want to be tired on Tuesday.” Hopper ordered, nudging Steve until he started to climb. Steve grumbled to himself, but when he got to the step he had fallen on before, he paused. 

“Hop?”

Hopper popped his head out from the living room. Steve dropped his eyes to the ground, but didn’t let his embarrassment stop him from doing the right thing. 

“Thanks,” Steve managed to choke out, immediately turning and practically flying up the rest of the stairs. He heard Hopper laughing behind him the whole way. 

Tag List: @paopaupaus @zerokrox-blog @surferboyzaza @whatever-is-a-good-name @minjintea @addelyin @5ammi90 @hagbaby420 @shinekocreator @bornonthesavage @starxlark @electrick-marionnett @resident-gay-bitch @ash-a-confused-enby @classicdinosaurdeathpose @valon-whomsttf @rotten-lil-goblin @thereindeerlady @love-ya-kash @kerlypride @sparkle-fiend @thefreakandthehair @flowercrowngods @milf-harrington @sadcanadianwinter @gothbat99 @hotcocoaharrington @henderdads @lightwoodbanethings @colorful565 @h0n3y-dw @craterbbox @sourw0lfs @lesliiieeeee @bidisastersworld @tinynebula @ravnlinn @bonescaro @mexmatch @cottagecoredreams @joruni @hellykelly @maegan1116 @farewell-wanderlvst @desertfern @due-to-the-fact-that-im-a-slut @anythingforourmoonyedits @eerielake @fandemonium-takes-its-toll @sidekick-hero

#Steve joins hellfire au #Steve harrington #Eddie munson #steddie #steddie au #steddie ficlet #st #stranger things #stranger things 2 #stranger things au #post stancy breakup #post s2 #Steve and eddie #st au #stranger things 2 au #ptsd Steve harrington #Steve Harrington has ptsd #steve harrington #eddie munson #Steve and the party #max mayfield #babysitter Steve harrington #mom Steve harrington #Lucas sinclair #dustin henderson #Mike wheeler #will byers #hopper stranger things #Jim Hopper #Hopper and Steve

[hrrorflm]

The last time.

Pairing: Checo Perez x reader.

Warnings: Angst, breakup, Checo being an asshole. Not proofread. English isn't my first language.

Monday afternoon after a weekend of racing and all you could do was wait anxiously for Checo's arrival at the apartment you shared together.

The last two months of your relationship had been a little strange, Checo was distant, from the way he refused to kiss you when you asked him, to the conversations that seemed nothing more than a conversation between two strangers who had just met. A part of you attributed it mainly to the poor track performance and the little support his team seemed to show him because of that. His indifference towards you was so big that more than one occasion you reminded him how important he was to you. Still, things didn't seem to change but immediately all the bad thoughts went away when you thought again about how difficult the environment at work was and the comments he made, attributing his notable distant treatment to simple professional sadness.

Almost without realizing it, the night sky covered the city. Checo should have arrived 4 hours ago, however, there was no sign of him in your home. Fearing that something bad had happened, you took your cell phone in your hands to call him. At the last minute and without wanting to overwhelm him further, you chose to check his Instagram profile. Surprisingly it had a story, clicking on the small circle, the photo opened in front of you: Checo with a couple of friends, drinking a little. A feeling of calm came to your chest knowing that he was fine, yet a strange sensation continued to bother you. Opening the photo again, this time to look at it more closely, you noticed a feminine hand resting subtly on his knee. Due to the light in the place it could barely be seen clearly, but it was there. You bit your lip like every time you felt anxiety invading your body, until the sensation of physical pain was greater than that sensation of anxiety. You threw your cell phone to the side on the couch, opting to go to bed to rest properly. Tomorrow you could talk about the photo with Checo.

After doing your little routine before going to bed, you finally went to bed, ready to close your eyes to rest. And even though you tried, the truth was that you couldn't sleep at all. That photo kept spinning around in your head. And Checo not showing up only made it worse. The hours passed and you were unable to close your eyes for more than 5 minutes. When the first rays of sunlight began to brighten the day outside your room, leaving behind the dark tones of the night, your eyes felt exhausted enough to allow you to get a couple of hours of sleep.

9 in the morning and you were already up, still in your pajamas, preparing breakfast when the sound of the front door opening reached your ears. A smile of joy appeared on your lips almost instantly and you hurried out of the kitchen to greet your boyfriend, but as soon as you took a few steps to get closer to him you could tell that he was not in the best mood, despite that photo where he seemed to be enjoying the night. Sighing, you managed to murmur an "I'm glad you're back, love, I've missed you."

Checo stopped on his way to the room and cast a quick glance in your direction, only to resume his pace, leaving you confused, wouldn't he have heard you? Of course he heard you, otherwise he wouldn't have looked in your direction. Maybe he wanted to change into something more comfortable before going downstairs. You decided to ignore that and returned to the kitchen, ready to serve breakfast on two plates so you could share it with Checo.

Leaving the small plates on the table, you walked to the stairs. "Breakfast is ready, love, will you come down?" Checo's voice was immediate, "No, I'm not hungry, I'll sleep a little." You sighed sadly and even a little helplessly, was it so difficult to go down to have breakfast with you? Couldn't I even join you for breakfast? You could feel tears threatening to fall from your eyes. You shook your head slightly, returning to the breakfast table. But once you sat down and had the plate in front of you, the hunger seemed to have disappeared. Contemplating the food in front of you you could feel the pain in your stomach growing, your palms sweating and your heart pounding. You were prey to anxiety. You knew it perfectly. That's how it had been since you noticed Checo's change in attitude. You shook your head more than frustrated and decided to go back to the room, maybe lying next to Sergio would help you feel better.

You entered the room, watching him rest peacefully on the bed. You smiled to yourself, watching sweetly as he slept, so peaceful, oblivious to everything. Getting rid of your sandals you lay down next to him, waking him up with the gentle movements. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's okay, it doesn't matter," Sergio murmured, without opening his eyes.

You moved close enough to lay your head on his chest, longing for the feeling of warmth that Checo gave off naturally and wanting to inhale the aroma of his perfume that you loved so much. Although your wishes were quickly thwarted when Checo shifted, turning in his spot to turn his back to you. Your look of surprise was obvious, even more so was the moan you let out at that.

Not being able to take it anymore, you finally gathered enough courage to face him and sitting on the bed, you asked, “Is something wrong? ".

Checo seemed not to understand the question and muttered "what are you talking about?"

"You haven't treated me like you always do for two months, Checo. You treat me differently, you're distant from me, you don't talk to me or look at me. You don't even kiss me anymore! I can't touch you because, like now, you push me away." At some point, your voice had raised, revealing your frustration and disappointment with the situation.

Irritated and somewhat annoyed, Checo turned back on the bed so he could see you. "Nothing, nothing happens."

That was the straw that broke the camel's back. Almost like a spring you got out of bed, rushing towards the bathroom as your cheeks turned red and tears flooded your eyes. You grabbed the knob and before disappearing out the door, you wanted to know. "Do you still like me?"

The answer didn't come immediately and with every second that passed your heart accelerated faster and faster, seeming like it would explode at any moment. All you could hear was Checo's slow breathing and your attempts to stop your tears.

"Why you ask?". The indifference in his voice made you want to run away from there.

"I want you to tell me".

Letting out a sigh, the words you seemed to fear the most reached your ears. "Our relationship is not what it was, I feel strange with you and it's like we are just strangers."

It felt like a bucket of ice water falling on your back, as if your heart weighed 200 kilos more in your chest, tears swirled in your eyes without being able to contain them and your soul felt like it was leaving your body. Holding tightly to the doorknob, your sobs became present. You started to shake. You wanted to disappear. Or maybe you wished it was all a dream. One bad dream and you would soon wake up in the arms of the love of your life, staring at the freckles on his face while he slept.

The complete indifference with which he was handling the situation left you stunned, furious. It was unbearable. Retracing your steps you walked to the closet, grabbed a t-shirt and some jeans, changing your clothes so quickly that Checo was a little surprised. Still he made no vain attempt to stop you. Finally you put on your tennis shoes and took your cell phone, ready to leave the home that you had created for yourselves as soon as possible.

However, a voice stopped you. It was almost offensive, insensitive.

"What?" you asked in disbelief, thinking that maybe it was a bad move in your head.

"If you could come get your things before Thursday that would be great, I'm going to Silverstone and I don't want them to see you leaving, for safety reasons."

The blood seemed to rise to your cheeks, and your entire body trembled at what you had just heard. It felt so unreal. Ironically, a small laugh escaped your lips at what had just happened.

"Okay, Checo, I'll come in the afternoon today." You wanted to sound strong, but your voice had betrayed you. It had barely been a whisper.

You didn't have the courage to look at him one more time, knowing that if you did, a part of you would refuse to believe what was happening. Suddenly, that photo came to your memory. You wanted to ask if that was happening because of her, if there was someone else in Checo's life. But there were too many emotions for one day. Shaking your head, you walked out the door muttering a heartfelt “take care.”

The days had passed. Sunday race at Silverstone. You had involuntarily gotten up very early to watch the race, even with the pain that accompanied your heart that seemed to squeeze every time Checo's name was heard on television. After an exciting and highly contested fight, Checo had managed to get on the podium in second place. Without being able to help it, a smile of pride made its way onto your lips when you saw him there, smiling. You could almost swear the breakup hadn't affected him at all. He looked amazing. Until the camera focused on a woman among the audience waiting for such a triumph. She was beautiful, thin, tall, brown haired and very pretty. But that wasn't what caught your attention, no, no. It was the way she looked and who she looked at, when you finally realized that Checo was also looking at her and giving her a unique smile. Like the ones he used to dedicate to you. Suddenly, something seemed to click in your head. You felt your heart break. Now you understood his treatment of you, the absences, the lack of tact, everything.

You wanted to disappear.

#reader #checo perez x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #red bull racing #red bull formula 1 #sergio perez #sergio perez x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #y/n #Checo perez x y/n

[xxcherrydevilxx]

Fated Eve

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Fandom: BSD; Ranpo x fem!reader

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Warnings: N/A, really just fluff

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Summary: drinking a beer in the parking lot of a convenience store is not how many will be spending New Year's Eve, but it is for you. When a pretty boy drops some glasses and hurries off without realizing it, you spend the last hours of the new year trying to hunt him down. 

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A/N Thoughts: Kept thinking about this idea while at work and just really liked the image of it. I knew I wouldn't be able to write it the day of new years eve so i'm trying to get it done quickly so errors might be apparent.

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Word Count: 2811 

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A/N Afterthoughts: so cheesy, so found family, wish this was my New Year’s, need more Ranpo fanfiction. Finished this up at 9 pm, have work at 9 am, hope you all don't die of sweetness overload, and have a happy new year! Perhaps you’ll find some cute guy’s glasses and have a Tumblr love story.

The beer wasn’t as refreshing as you had hoped, and the concrete parking lot bumper wasn’t as comfy as your sofa would have been, either. But you couldn’t go back to your apartment because your roommate was throwing a New Year's Eve party, and you knew absolutely no one who was attending. You stepped out to get some fresh air after some random couple came tumbling into your bedroom hoping to get some “privacy,” you called it quits there. Maybe there was somewhere more comfortable to sit and drink alone. But as you leaned your head back and took in the countless stars in the night sky, you didn’t want to get up; this view was worth it. The air was practically fizzing with the anticipation of all the people waiting with bated breath for the final hours to tick down and for it to be an amazing new year, a year filled with new aspirations, goals, and anything you could possibly imagine. 

You are hoping for a few of your goals and dreams to get crossed off. Land a new job? Figure out a better living situation, and finish your bachelor's. The new year always held such innocent hope, despite nothing different from the ones past. 

You took another sip of your beer and stretched out your legs on the cool concrete, thinking back on your year with bittersweet memories. A car pulled into the parking lot next to you. You gave the driver a quick lookover; a man who seemed frantic as he patted down his jeans and rushed into the convenience store. Party stragglers, you had seen a few come and go as you relaxed in the biting cold December air. Teenagers trying not to get carded, college kids like you, stumbling and laughing out into the cold air as their breath billowed and faded into the night sky. Friends, lovers, family… and then there was you alone in your own bubble. You faintly felt the tug of loneliness as you watched all the different faces march on, their arms linked or holding hands, while you sat on cement and drank a cheap beer. 

A man jumped over the parking bump as he rushed toward the street, arms ladened with bags. You could see the faint outline of snacks: gummy bears, chocolate, all sweets. His step seemed to have a skip in it, and his outline against the pitch-black sky made you breathe in for no other reason but the beauty of it. The image of someone so alone like yourself, but still finding joy and rushing back to where he had come from. You knew he was probably racing back to a place filled with joyful laughter, goofy 20XX hats, and the murmur of the countdown playing in the background. You perched your chin on the top of your bottle, eyes squinting slightly in thought as the figure continued to get smaller and smaller. Your eyes were transfixed on the man you almost didn't feel the tap on your shoulder. 

“E-excuse me miss? Are these yours?” the man from before asked. The hasty one had now come back out of the convenience store with an armful of beer, the same brand as yours. You turned your head slightly, your hair swishing down your shoulder as you took in his face, then the faint object in his hands. Glasses.

“Oh, no those aren't-” the man let out a groan of annoyance. Before you could finish, you hastily changed your answer as if his displeasure was enough for such a white lie.

“Those aren't mine, but they are friend’s of mine.” you conceded, smiling up politely at the man who held a pensive look on his face.

“Great. Here,” he said,  tossing the glasses before turning and getting into his car. He spun out of the parking lot as you fumbled to catch the glasses, staring blankly at them and then back up at the red car lights of his; which was speeding down the desolate road.

  Whose even were these? 

You turned the glasses over in your hands, taking in the rims and the dark black color that made it fade into the darkness if you didn’t squint hard enough. No initials, typical, but you had a hard time making out if these were even prescriptions. They couldn’t be? Could they? Would someone be able to lose such glasses? Surely they would have been wearing them.

You deduced quickly; they weren't prescriptions, no way… so then, whose were they? You gently sat the glasses down beside you, pulling your hands close to your mouth as you blew warm air over your knuckles, the chilly December breeze finally getting to you. You don’t know why you were so intrigued about who these glasses belonged to; it didn’t matter, did it? You could simply give them to the cashier and let them deal with it. But another part of you, perhaps that innocent hope that had been blossoming since you sat out in the cold air and gazed up at the stars, found excitement in such a small task. A chase against time to find the owner! Or, as your roommate would call it, a goose chase to find who you think could be the owner. You eyed the glasses as the lenses looked out towards the road.

“Just whose owners are you, huh?” you mumbled out loud. Your chin resting on your knees that you had pulled up, and your hand tracing the rims. You were bored; that much was apparent, you were talking to someone's glasses for Christ's sake. You were also as curious as a cat, and the idea of chasing someone down on New Year's… finding them just as the time changed… maybe it would be a handsome man? Woman? Someone to make this new year start with a flourish.

Well, that did it. You jumped to your feet, clapping your hands together to gain some warmth, pocketing the glasses and taking one last sip of your beer for fools' courage; you got to work. 

You stood in the parking lot for a second, hands on your hips, as you looked at the double doors and the flickering lights inside. If the glasses belonged to someone who came in before or after the hasty man with the bad driving skills; giving them around a ten-minute window because if they had already been there for too long someone else would have either grabbed them or the cashier would have put them behind the register. You ran through the customers you had seen come in before the man; a woman and boy, perhaps her son, who had a silly News Year hat on and who clutched his mother’s hand tightly and stared wide-eyed at everything around at him, even waving at you when they emerged out of the store. If it was their glasses the curious boy would have probably picked them up, so you mentally crossed them off on your list.

Next up was a group of teens trying to illegally buy beer. You could tell because they looked so young there was no way they could get away with it… and because they asked you to buy for them which garnered a laugh. They never even entered the store, knowing their chances were slim, so the glasses must not be theirs as you would have heard the clatter if they did fall out of a pocket. 

All that was left was… Ah! The sweets boy! He came in shortly after the hasty man, and his hands were so full he couldn’t possibly have noticed the glasses slipping, his fast steps probably even blocking out the noise. You couldn’t have noticed either, being too busy watching the peppy man bounce off with glee, and the hasty man must have come out shortly after because he pulled you out of your lull and handed you the lost item.

Yes! That must be it! You quickly pulled out the glasses to look at their now smudged frames.

“I think I figured out your owner,” you said valiantly to the inanimate object. You rubbed the lenses clean and, for the hell of it, put them on. You had no trouble looking through the lenses, confirming to you that they were, in fact, not prescription. Now you just had to track down a joyful man who loved sweets on New Year's Eve. To some, the task might have felt daunting, how could someone find one ordinary person in a sea of party-goers? Great question!

You did not have an answer!

Maybe just- go down the road they went? Yeah, that sounded wise, maybe it was the glasses making you so smart. 

Throwing your beer bottle into recycling, you went on. Passing by apartments, homes, and businesses, all of which had their lights on, the faint hum of their TVs tuned to the same channel, and the murmur of laughter inside. You stopped occasionally, standing and looking in at the happy-go-lucky people, trying to pick out the boy you were looking for. None of them fit the description you had of the man, so you tossed your head and went on. Okay, think back… what was he wearing again? You hummed and closed your eyes, calling up the image of the black-haired man with some brown type of jacket over a button-up. You had originally pegged him as a college student, but now that you had to think, no college student ever dressed like that, or at least not the ones you ran with on campus. 

“Come on new years luck! Give me a sign!” you pleaded to the sky. Pressing your hands together in mock prayer and bowing your head as if the spirit of luck would answer you. You must have looked so strange to people who drove past or anyone who might take a look out their window. A girl with knee-high boots overtop their bare skin, a loose fitted shirt that was thrown hastily on over a tank top with glasses on and their head bowed.

“Dazai-san you don’t understand,” a voice whined across the street, making you open one eye to look over at the two figures, one being pulled by the wrist, the whiner, and a brunette who looked annoyed out of their wits. A car raced passed and shone a quick light on them.   

“Just retrace your steps,” the brunette told them, their eyes stuck on the ground as they seemed to be searching for something. Another car passed by and their lights flashed across their faces once again. The outfit of the man trudging behind made a spark light in your brain. “Sweets boy!” you breathed out, unclasping your hands and looking both ways across the street. They had yet to notice you, both talking to one another quickly and fast. They were quickly moving away from you, and a car was zipping down, meaning you couldn’t run across until it passed.

“Hey! Hey wait! I found your uhm- your glasses!” you called across the road. But obviously, they still weren't paying attention as they briskly continued down the opposite way from you. The car you were waiting on finally passed and you bounded across the road, your eyes caught on the now-distant figures. How could they walk so fast so quickly? Were they that worried about these little prop glasses that you wore? You took a deep breath, gosh you did not want to have to run in the cold, but alas… a good samaritan would under such circumstances. 

You were off, one foot in front of the other as you took a racing- okay, jogging -start down the street. Your steps must have alerted the brunette, who turned his head fast, cocking it and seeming to grow tense. He seemed to relax once you waved at them and he turned back around; he must have thought you weren’t waving to them, but instead to a friend in front of them he must not have seen. The sweets boy, the one you were ever so kindly helping, didn't turn or even care to look who was behind them. His head was down, and he seemed to still be whining.

You made quick work to get to them, reaching out to tug on the boy’s cape-like jacket. You bent your knees and took a deep breath.

“Hey! Sweets boy- Jesus, why are you both so fast,” you wheezed, coughing out the cold air from your lungs. The man you held onto turned fast, the brunette more lazily until he noticed the glasses perched atop your nose.

“Where did you get those?” he asked, striding forward to snatch them off your face. You held up a hand and took a breath.

“You dropped them at the convenience store, I was trying to find them to return em to ya!” you breathed out. a small laugh taking catch in your throat as you looked up at the man you had chased down all night. The cold air that was once your laugh traveled up and past his face into the night sky, and as soon as you could get a clear look at his face, you breathed back in.

Lady luck is truly on my side.

The man was beautiful, a smile seemed always imprinted on his lips, his green eyes looking down at you with an amusement glint. His arms were on his hips as if admiring your work to find them. You could tell his arms were lean and strong. You felt that one bottle of beer finally gave you one last push of courage; one sip got you to stay and sit at that parking stop, the next to play detective and find the missing owner of the glasses, and the last sip still working its way through your veins gave you the words you confidently spoke to your news year fated stranger, “I played a pretty good detective to find ya, if I had known you were so pretty I would have worked harder!” your cheeks flushed a faint pink, maybe from the run or the beer, or you know, the boldness that just overtook you. 

The brunette behind him let out a low whistle as he folded the glasses up and placed them in a pocket of his trenchcoat, and the green-eyed man let out a joyful laugh that just fit him, his entire being encapsulated into one sound.

“My my, if you are a detective like me and Dazai here then you should join us at our party!” His grin grew even wider at his words. You could see his white canines in his smile and you felt your stomach flip. You shook the flirtatious thoughts out of your head, had he invited you to an office party? Not just any office party, a detective office party? “Wait I was just kidding-” the man took your arm and linked it with his. And you could hear the brunette- Dazai -snicker at the action.

“Nonsense! This was the sharpest detective work I have seen!” He exclaimed. His joyful step infested you, and soon you were walking arm and arm with newfound vigor as the man behind you watched and seemed to hold back his laughter.

You walked together in the cold air, sharing pleasantries and getting to know one another. His arm never untangling itself from yours. Dazai chimed in here and there to explain how the party was going and where it was. As you turned the corner, you saw the festive lights of a cafe beaming, the sign on it flipped closed, but the people inside were obviously granted special access. You tripped slightly as you took in the sight, people all smiling and sharing drinks, arms wrapped around one another as they laughed in the new year. Ranpo made sure you didn’t fall, his green eyes turning to you.

“You’ll fit right in! And you can share with us your story!” you could already tell you would have a new crush for the New Year. Dazai walked ahead, his shoulders pushed back and his hands in his pockets, while Ranpo pulled you along, smiling and chatting with joy as he listed off the names and appearances of all his co-workers as if you would remember it once you got inside. 

Despite the December cold, you felt so warm, as if you were bundled in the softest and warmest sweater. The stars in the sky twinkled as if enjoying the puppy love romance beginning to blossom, but you were unaware of them because your north star was right in front of you, leading you to new friends and new stories. All your New Year's wishes seem to come true in an instant.

#bsd x you #bsd #bungostraydogs #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs fanfic #ranpo x reader #ranpo edogawa #ranpo x y/n #bsd ranpo #ranpo x you #bungou stray dogs ranpo

[thebucketpail]

When You Accidentally Kill a Clown pt. 9

Okay so I may have gotten a bit lazy with posting to tumblr, but I figured I ought to so. Ye.

Pt 1. Pt.8 Ao3

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Red Hood doesn't get nervous. Not when on mission, not when delegating his criminal empire, not when the Batman pokes his nose in his business, not even when all his plans are failing in a spectacular fireworks show. Because he knew he always had a way out. He had met death and come back. He had tangled with the nastiest foes the universe had to offer. No. No Red Hood didn't get nervous. Jason Todd though?

Well maybe he did.

No matter what he did to calm his nerves, anxiety continued to prickle at his skin. It's just a date right? No reason to be nervous. He would take Danny to get a quick dinner at his favorite diner, then they'd go to this big party at the Gotham Planetarium. It was simple. No way to mess it up.

But what if Danny had an allergic reaction to something at the diner? What if the event was too stuffy and boring? What if they hung out in person and Danny decided he didn't actually like Jason in that way? God, what if Jason said something that comes off a bit too stalker-y or murder-y? Well he had stalked them hadn't he? What if that drove them off?

The thought spiral was cut off as Jason splashed water onto his face.

No. Can't think like that. he sighed as he reached for a towel. Tonight's going to be fine he assured himself. no. Not fine, amazing.

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Danny's heart couldn't stop racing as he stood on the outside steps of his building. Well, more of beat at a normal-for-humans-pace, but the point remains; He was excited, to say the least. Despite the whole week having drug on and on, the day had passed in a blur. Wake up, classes, lunch, get ready for the date- which honestly proved much easier than expected. The event flyer had said 'formal dress code' and well, Danny didn't have many formal clothes so the choices were easy to choose from.

He'd scrounged up some black slacks, to pair with his dark blue dress shirt, patterned with gold constellations, which matched with his gold half moon earrings. Both had been birthday gifts from Jazz. Completed with a simple black tie and jacket, Danny was really proud of his outfit. He'd even managed to find an ironing board to use!

All this paled in comparison when Jason arrived.

Ancients, this man was gorgeous.

The incessant beating in his chest, that had been driving Danny nuts for the past hour, finally died down as his heart literally stopped for the man who was now climbing off his parked motorcycle. Danny couldn't help but admire him. His dark grey suit was perfectly tailored, and he moved with such smooth ease it was almost hypnotic.

His breath caught in his throat as Jason finally reached the top of the steps, although that may have been his ghost sense.

"Evening," Jason said as he pressed a kiss to Danny's hand, "you ready to go?" Ancients Danny was going to die again.

"Yup," he responded as Jason led him to the motorcycle.

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Okay so the problem is: that diner that Jason wanted to take Danny to? Yeah it got robbed last night, and maybe slightly blown up in the process.... but it's okay because there'll be food at the event right? It's fine. Except it's fancy rich people food, hmmm. So they got fast food instead. It was nice. Danny didn't seem too upset by the change of plans and the conversation flowed easily between them as they shared fries.

He was absolutely everything. Jason loved Danny's laugh. The way his eyes would sparkle, almost glow, under the right lighting. The sound of his voice as he regaled Jason with stories of his friends. And he couldn't get over Danny's freckles, spattered across his face and down his neck.

Jason would readily admit that he had been stunned when he first saw Danny standing on those steps. He seemed the pinnacle of style, it had made Jason a bit self conscious of his own boring grey suit.

He'd had to take a moment to gather himself before he'd climbed the stairs to meet him. Danny had blushed when he had taken his hand. Jason loved that too.

The rest of the date would go perfectly, he'd make sure of it.

While galas weren't exactly his thing, Jason had never been fond of them even when he was legally alive and living with Bruce, this one was amazing. And it wasn't the rich party goers, or the live music, or the fancy rich people food. Most of it came from the way Danny's eyes lit up upon entering the observatory. The man was practically bursting at the seams as his eyes flit from the star charts on the walls, to the various astronomical instruments littered about the room, until they finally zeroed in on the giant telescope at the center of the room.

Jason let himself get dragged around as Danny ranted about one thing or another.

"I've been following this comet all month, Harington-Abel was actually one of the first comets I observed. I was almost six at the time. It comes by every seven or eight years and I always make the time to see it." Danny said, a fond smile gracing his lips as he turned to Jason. "Thank you for taking me here."

Jason just squeezed the hand that had yet to let go of his, offering a smile of his own. "No problem," he whispered.

Danny's grin grew wider as he launched into another explanation on the comets history. The night went perfectly.

Until it didn't.

It should have been expected really, being in Gotham and all, but Jason was still caught off guard when the shots rang out. And when the crowds began to surge he hadn't been able to keep ahold of Danny. Within minutes the two were separated.

Damnit, this was supposed to be his night off. Oh well, looks like Hood would have to rock the shit out of whichever of Gotham's rouges gallery had decided to crash his date.

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

The room was in a panic. Danny had lost Jason and had to turn slightly intangible to avoid getting stampeded. Luckily, floor space became much more abundant as party goers fled. Unluckily, those who remained in the ballroom found themselves staring down the barrels of several very big, very scary, guns.

"This is a hostage situation!" Someone yelled, "everyone sit your asses down and put your hand on your heads!"

Oddly enough, most of the party goers only looked mildly annoyed as they followed orders. Danny considered not complying for a moment, but then one of the goons pointed a gun at him and growled. Danny decided he didn't feel like getting shot today, because while it wouldn't kill him, it would still hurt like a bitch, and he didn't want to worry Jason. Ancients, Jason. I hope he got out, or is at least safe.

Danny craned his neck to search the room but came up with nothing.

"Alright! Everyone empty your pockets, put any valuables in a pile in front of you! No funny business, ya hear?" The same man from earlier called.

Honestly, there were probably smarter things to do, but see, Danny is what we in the business like to call; an idiot? Which is why he didn't move to take out his wallet, unlike everyone else in the room. Unfortunately this did not go unnoticed, evident by the way a goon stomped over to him, crouched, and stuck the barrel of their gun under Danny's chin.

"Fork it over pretty boy," They growled, their smile not reaching their eyes. Danny noted how they were missing a considerable amount of teeth. He voiced that observation. (See this is why we call him an idiot).

The goon seethed, anger flaring in their eyes as the gripped the front of Danny’s shirt. "Why I Oughta-"

"Oof," Danny cut them off, having caught a whiff if their horrendous breath, "when was the last time you brushed your teeth dude?"

It was at this moment that Danny knew: he fucked up. Silently he cursed himself for his lack of filter, and/or sense of self preservation. Oh well, sorry Jason. If Danny's getting shot he may aswell punch a few people.

"What's that?" He exclaimed, staring pointedly at something behind the goons back; grinning when they turned to look. Danny took the opening, landing a solid blow to their face which sent them careening to the ground. He winced at the sickening popping sound, wondering for half a moment if he had put too much strength into that punch.

The room suddenly filled with shouting once more and Danny knew he would need to move fast if he was going to avoid unnecessary casualties. Although it had been awhile since he'd fought living people, his core thrummed with the promise of a fight.

Duck. weave. move. Punch. It all came easily, he didn't even have to transform or use any of his more ghostly powers.

One guy came charging at him, yelling and brandishing his gun like a club. Danny simply took a step to the side and let the behemoth of a man crash into his cohorts. He ducked another swing at his head and swept another's feet out form under them. Someone grabbed him from behind and Danny bit that motherfucker's hand, hard.

"GET THIS GUY OFF OF ME!" The man screamed as he tried pulling away, but Danny held tight.

Someone else- fuck how many of these people are there?- grabbed Danny by the waist and pulled him off the man who would probably never have a career in hand modeling after this.

Danny scrambled In the person's grasp, kicking, clawing, and biting at anything he could reach. His foot connected with something soft, followed by a wheeze, causing the grip around his torso to lessen enough for Danny to squirm out. He turned In time to see his aggressor curl up on the floor, tears streaming down their face.

"Fucking Hell!" Danny screamed as something tore through his calf. Great, the idiots remembered they have guns, Danny thought, sparing a glance to survey the damage. He'd probably be fine, the bullet had only grazed him, but it would hurt like a bitch for a few days at least.

Like a demon straight from hell itself, Danny went after the remaining goons. In a matter of minutes, the fight was over.

"Damn, that felt good. Everyone okay?" He called, surveying the room for any sign of injury, or Jason. Danny kind of hoped he hadn't seen that, might scare the man off, and he had been getting fond of him too. Luckily (or unluckily depending on how you see it) Jason was not in the crowd of faces in the main ballroom where the fight had taken place.

Some of the hostages managed to break their shock enough to help Danny tie up the bad guys and toss them in a pile near the center of their room. Danny was just about to toss the last guy on said pile when his ghost sense did that half sense thing like when-

"Jason?" He called.

Instead, Red Hood burst through the doors, pistols at the ready. "Alright, which one of you fuckers decided to ruin my evening because I swear to fuck-" He stopped short at the sight displayed before him. He lowered his pistols as he took it in. "What the-" Finally his gaze landed on Danny.

"Oh, hi again!" Danny beamed, shifting the guys weight so he could wave at Hood. "Sorry for the uh- mess. None of them are dead though so don't worry."

There was a long pause, Danny almost flat uncomfortable with the way Red Hood was staring at him. Finally, the vigilante broke the silence.

"You have blood on your face." The unbothered tone stunned Danny for a second before he wiped at his face.

"Probably from that guy's hand," he responded, gesturing at the man he had bitten who was currently at the bottom of the pile.

Hood chuckled at that, a creepy sound coming through the modulator. "Sick," he said before turning on his heel and matching right back out the door. "Looks like you've got this covered so imma head out."

"Well bye then, I guess."

Then Hood was gone.

.

.

.

A few hours of police questioning later, Danny finally found Jason sitting on the steps outside. Apparently he had been swept out the door in the stampede of people and had spent the whole time worrying about Danny who found it incredibly sweet.

Danny breathed a sigh of relief as he plopped down and leaned against Jason's (incredibly muscular) shoulder.

"Sorry about such a terrible first date."

"Don't sweat it man, this isn't the worst date I've been on." Danny replied, turning to face his date, "Besides, I had fun. Y'know before the hostage situation bits."

Jason chuckled at that. A win in Danny's book. Ancients, Jason has a nice smile.

"Alright let's get you home, it's been a long night,"

"Ugh I don't want to get up," Danny bemoaned as the other stood, taking his shoulder with.

"Come on," Jason laughed pulling at Danny's arm. He groaned more but allowed Jason to pull him to his feet. Danny hissed suddenly at a sharp pain in his leg before falling forward into Jason's arms.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

Danny winced as he shifted his weight, damn he'd be sore tomorrow. "Nothing, got grazed by a stray bullet is all," he said, but quickly hurried on when worry washed over the other man's face. "Don't worry I got the paramedics to check it, it should be fine in a few days so long as I keep it clean." Danny of course, hadn't talked to the paramedics, he had, in fact, been avoiding them. But Jason didn't need to know that.

Jason frowned but seemingly accepted the answer nonetheless. "Alright," he said. Danny smiled at him.

"See it's fine, I can even walk," Danny said moving to take a step. But as if by some cruel joke from the gods, he tripped. He fell for only a moment before Jason caught him and pulled him back.

"Deja vu," he smirked. Danny felt heat brush at his cheeks just as his feet were swept from beneath him.

"I can walk you know," he pouted but didn't struggle as Jason carried him to his bike.

"Yeah I'm sure that why you fell after one step."

Danny humbled indignantly in lieu of a proper response as he was deposited on the leather seat.

"Beside I feel kind of responsible for getting you home safe after this whole debacle. I mean it's my fault you were here and all." Something warm bloomed in Danny's chest as he accepted the helmet Jason gave him.

Danny didn't stop smiling the entire way home. Jason walked him all the way to his dorm. They parted with promises to do this again, minus all the hostage-y bits.

All things considered, it was a really good date.

Pt. 10

#when you accidentally kill a clown #dp x dc #dead on main #dp x dc jason todd #dp x dc danny fenton #the long awaited date episode