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wutheringcaterpillar · 7 days

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Omg pleeeease I need a dark/angsty Tommy fic where he ends up hurting the reader? Like an argument gets too heated and he ends up slapping her or something. Like maybe she was flirting and dancing a bit too much with someone at a party they’re hosting and he gets jealous and drags her to their room, then they start arguing and he gets so enraged that he basically sees red and absolutely slaps the hell out of her (some non con/dub con smut after as well???). Just need some heavy, dark, possessive, violent, scary/mean Tommy Shelby 😫 The darker the better lol

Warnings: noncon, p in v + anal, physical abuse, degradation, threats with a gun, some blood play, misogyny, name calling

Hope you enjoy! Thank you!

Tommy watched from afar, seeing you and Ada drunk, giggling like a bunch of school girls at a table filled with men. He may not be able to control his sister but his wife was another subject. People were beginning to stare, especially the men Tommy needed on his good side for now. The dress you were wearing was skin tight, your panties just barely showing through the thin black fabric.

Tonight was a prestige dinner with delegates that Shelby Limited was in talks for business deals. The plan was too conversate, find weak spots, understand the patterns of movements, but the only thing Tommy was focused on was you, a long with every other man.

Even Arthur made a remark, a statement that angered Tommy even more. “Y/N’s quite the appeal tonight isn’t she?” Arthur chuckled, taking someone’s glass of whiskey and finishing it himself.

“What are you talking about?”

“Look at her, need to cherish her better brother before another man makes a move.” That was it, that was enough. When Tommy slammed his glass down and started to walk away Arthur pulled him back, pleading and convincing Tommy to just allow you to have fun for a night but he wouldn’t listen. Frowning, Arthur returned to the table, grabbing another drink whilst Tommy tried to keep his compusure. Greeting and checking in with the guests before approaching your flailing, inebriated body.

Three tradesman of London were in attendance, the blatant look of disgust from where they stood at the bookcase, giving your husband a look of disapproval before carrying on in conversation.

“Tommy! My husband, come here!” When you attempted to pull him down by the sleeve of his expensive suit, he pulled back, tucking his hands in his pockets, giving you a stern expression that told you to follow him.

Pouting, you crossed your arms, rolling your eyes annoyed, picking up a bottle of champagne before walking away with him, making flirtatious remarks to random men as you wobbled away until you were in the master bedroom.

Closing the door, you fell onto the floor laughing in a disarray of emotions, your vision blurry and your eyes dilated. Tommy pulled the nearly empty bottle from your hands, tossing it into the corner of the room before grabbing your wrist forcing you up onto your feet.

“What the fuck are you doing, eh? Are you stupid, is that it? You know how important tonight is and you go and fucking wreck it, bidding yourself off to other men when you are a married, taken woman.”

“Relax Tommy, we’re just having fun. What the boys can do whatever they damn well please but because of what’s between my legs I’m expected to just be formal, elegant?” Tommy looked at you with expecting eyes, not understanding where the confusion is. There were important men here tonight and seeing you galavanting around like some whore and being incoherently drunk made his blood boil.

Biting dowm on his tongue and locking his jaw, he pointed with dictation, sapphire eyes raging with fire as he seethed out the following words.

“Yes. It’s that fucking simple. You can’t even fucking stand up straight.” Scoffing, you tiptoed around the room, holding onto the dresser to keep your warm, sweating body from falling. The room was spinning but that didn’t change the anger from the double standard that was always set against you. You hadn’t thought before speaking, the words simply sputtering out what you’ve held in.

“You should be thanking me for flirting with them, without me you’d have nothing. I’m simply the means to an end to the shit deals you can’t make on your own.”

Tommy cut you off with the back of his hand slapping across your cheek ferociously, silencing you for good. Grabbing for the bruising skin, you looked back at your husband in shock and fear. He’s never, ever layed a hand on you.

When you ran for the door, he was faster, shoving the wooden object closed with his hand and yanking you back by the strands of your hair, pushing you carelessly onto the bed.

His hands tightened around your wrists as he shoved his hardened member upward against your mound.

“I’d have nothing eh? I’ll show you what it’s like to be treated like you’re nothing.”

Screaming hysterically, you wept as Tommy ripped the expensive gown, exposing the bare, delicate skin of your thighs. Hitting and fighting against his chest to push him away, he simply lifted his hand, slapping you harshly once more to stop the whining.

You pressed your hand gently against your temple, a headache forming in the core of your mind from the impactful blow.

Hearing the buckle of his belt, you panicked but were too weak to defend yourself from the man who claimed to be your husband.

“Maybe if you had just listened and weren’t a fucking whore tonight we wouldn’t be in this postion. Someone’s forgotten their place eh?” Pushing the thin laced fabric of your panties aside, he thrusted upward, letting his thick length penetrate you without any lube. Writhing and seething in pain below him, tears prickled at your eyes, not recognizing who was staring at you anymore.

Spitting at his face, he smiled slyly, a dark twisted grin bellowing at what you had done.

Returning the favor he spat back, hitting you once more with a forceful, strong slap that echoed through the room and knocked out your hearing in one ear.

“Don’t forget sweetheart. I own you, you’re my property.” Wrapping his hands around your throat, you struggled for air as he drilled into your dry cunt, shredding open the sensitive skin like a grater would cheese. Blood slowly leaked out from your pussy, the ability to scream non existent as your airway was constricted, bruising as his nails dug into your skin.

When your hands reached up to try to push him away from your neck, desperate for air, he shed himself of his tie, wrapping the fabric around your wrists tightly to the headboard and shoved his underwear in your mouth.

Slapping your cunt repeatedly, he mocked your whimpers, feeling your walls slowly start to produce your sweet syrup against your will.

“How pathetic, is this what you wanted? Someone likes me cock, who knew my wife was a little fucking whore.” Screeching beneath the makeshift gag, your skin seethed in pain, wanting nothing more for this to be over.

His hands grasped at your breasts, tugging and pulling at your nipples, smitten by how easily your body gave in to him.

Flipping you over onto your stomach, he spread your ass cheeks, pulling the fatty skin apart finding that tight, untouched hole you’d been denying him for so many years, now he was going to take it for himself.

There was nowhere for you to go, your eyes searched, panicked looking for anything to get you out of these bindings, but there was nothing.

Aligning himself with your taint, you could feel the rounded head of his shaft resting at your virgin entrance. Every bone and muscle in your violated body tensed when his head pushed through your strained, congested walls. You screamed in agony as he wasted no time burying himself balls deep in your taint.

“Oh fuck…Didn’t know you could feel this good love. My little slave, that ass devouring me cock. About time I reminded you of your place. Nothing but a slut, a mere stupid little bitch.” He moaned in between thrusts as he fucked your anus, pounding your ass up and down on his shaft while holding the cheeks of your ass roughly. The sporadic pain was different than your pussy, far more intensified. It didn’t feel like stinging anymore, the size of his penis sent flames of fire through your hole.

When he buried his neck into the crook of your neck while he continued to pump relentlessly into you. You fumbled with the bindings while he wasn’t paying attention.

Realessing a choked sob, you were on the verge of being free, fidgeting with the tight knot with a tremendous effort, working over the fabric through the tears and painful agony, but you weren’t as smooth as you thought. Tommy’s hand shot up, slamming down on yours and pulled you arms behind your back, causing the gag to fall out in the process.

“Help! Help! Ah-“ Striking you in the back of your waeay head, he shoved his fingers between your lips, invading your mouth and pulling at the sides of your lips.

“Shut the fuck up. Listen to me, are you listening sweetheart?” You whimpered through his fingers, nodding your head, squeezing your eyes closed in a pained expression when he thrusted his cock violently with a force of strength and dominance.

“No one is coming to your rescue, you belong to me, and I have the right to use and abuse my property all I want and you will listen, or suffer the consequences as you are right now. Get up.” Tommy pulled you onto his lap, reinserting his lengthy shaft into your soaking wet walls. You mewled from the discomfort, struggling to make eye contact with Tommy.

His lips connected to your hardened nipples, biting down on the flesh harshly, aiming to draw blood. Slapping you across the face once again, your head whipped to the other side fiercly.

“Ride me. Go on, you claim to be so great in bed to those men out there. Can’t treat your husband the same?” Another backhand, before his hand gripped the fat of your ass cheeks, slamming you up and down on his cock, an immense joy curdling within him from seeing your pathetic tears.

Then an idea struck you, if you’r just get him off surely he’d let you go. A satisfied grin spread across his face when you began to rotate your hips, staring slowly at first before picking up speeding.

“Ah, fuck, that’s it love. Show me what that worthless cunt can do.” You continued to whine and whimper as you rode his cock, your ass landing on his thighs with each powerful bounce, your breasts flying up and down for his amusement.

You could feel him begin to pulsate, he was close, very close.

Arching your back, Tommy focused in on your pussy devouring his lengthy member with each pivotal motion of your hips. Your walls tightened, constricting his length, and within seconds his seed was filling your tortured void, flooding into your ovaries.

At that moment you moved as fast as lightning, taking the lamp and smashing it over his head to try to escape his bitter soul. Rushing to put clothes on, you ran to the door, thinking that someone would help you but Tommy wasn’t weak and you were nowhere nearly as strong as him. He was quick to recover, but not as quick as you. Throwing on a nightshirt and slipping on the closest thing to work as underwear, you opened the door just nearly out when Tommy pulled on his pants, rolling over the bed and running, rushing toward you, slamming the door closed once again.

You punched the door in defeat, frightened to turn around until he forced you to, pulling out something you’d never thought he’d use as a threat to you.

“If you think I am playing some sort of sick game, you are sadly mistaken sweetheart. Now get back on the fucking bed, you’ve done enough tonight.” Removing the safety, he pointed the gun directly on the middle of your forehead, the cool metal barrel sending chills down your spine. Is this what your marriage had come to? How were you supposed to move forward from this catastrophic night? Surely people would notice the bruises but then again, no one ever questioned Tommy Shelby, not anyone that gave a shit about their life.

Surrendering you rose your arms, the shaking of your trembling hands visible. The man facing you, you no longer recognized. There was no guilt, or shame, or any type of love present in those venomous, frigid eyes, he really wasn’t joking. Making your way back to the bed, you tucked your head onto the pillow, weeping relentlessly into the case of the feathered object. Tommy layed the gun down on the table, taking a seat beside you. You flinched away from his cold, heartless touch, terrified of what was to come next.

“I need to go back and entertain our guests. You stay here and be good. Can you do that?” He twisted your labia, pinching the sensitive skin, causing you a tremendous amount of pain, reminding you what could happen if you don’t listen.

Nodding with fearful, tired eyes, you watched as Tommy dressed himself, and stayed in your fragile position on the soiled sheets, eventually crying yourself to sleep in the dark room.

#thomas shelby #tommy shelby #ranaewrites #peaky blinders #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #requested

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scribblesofagoonerr · 12 days

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I just need you both right now...

Here's the second part for you all, hope you all like it!

I was a bit stupid at the start of the week and injured my knee so I currently can't do much other than rest it right now, so I'm back to writing again!

Thank you to @alotofpockets for her help as always! So so grateful!

Pairings: lia wälti x teen reader, caitlin foord x teen reader, arsenal wfc x teen reader

“Are you sure this is a good idea, Wally?” Leahs’ voice is anxious as she turns to the brunette Swiss woman, who has just finished parking her car outside of your mum’s new house.

“Probably not, but I want to know why on earth she thought it was appropriate to teach my daughter self-defence like that” Lia’s frustration seethes as she switches off the car’s ignition.

“Don’t be angry with Mum” You interject quickly, feeling the need to defend her. From your perspective, there wasn’t anything inherently wrong with her actions, “It’s not her fault!” you assert pointedly.

Lia clicks her tongue and shakes her head in disagreement, “She shouldn’t be teaching you this in the first place, Y/F/N!” she exclaims, undoing her seatbelt.

“I think it’s best if I stay in the car” Leah decides, opting out of another potential argument between the two exes, her being there wouldn’t do very much to help right now.

“Okay, Le” Lia’s expression softens as she looks at the blonde before turning to you, slouched in the backseat, “Come on Y/N/N” she gestures for you to follow her out of the car.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you unbuckle your seatbelt and step out of the car, following your mama’s lead as she strides towards the front door, her knuckles rapping impatiently.

“Alright, alright. Geez, I’m comin’ now. Just hold on!” A familiar voice grumbles from behind the closed door, which you immediately recognise as Ella, Katie’s younger sister who now lives with them.

“Hey, squirt. Shouldn’t you still be in school?” Ella asks, puzzled, as she greets you.

“Hi Ella!” You wave cheerfully, despite the circumstances of why you were here, “I was at school earlier, but then I got into trouble and well, now I’ve been suspended” You ramble your explanation, oblivious to the annoyed facial expression your mama currently has when you retell your account of events.

“Uh oh” Ella chuckles, amused by your latest antics.

You sometimes wished you could move in with your mum, although you miss the times’ that your mum and mama both lived together with you, things were so much easier then.

Cutting through the light banter, Lia gets straight to the point with the blonde girl, “Look, I’m not in the mood to mess around here, Ella. Where is Caitlin? I need to speak to her” she states.

“Uh, right, she’s inside the house. Hold on, I’ll shout for her now— Caitlin? Lia and the kids’ here!” Ella calls out, momentarily forgetting that she was currently live on TikTok, which was now buzzing with comments reacting to the conversation out of frame.

“Comin’ now!” Caitlin’s voice rings from inside the house.

Without much hesitation, you dart through the front door to greet Caitlin, “Mum!” You shout, practically leaping into her arms.

“Hey, kiddo” Caitlin is able to catch you mid-air, spinning you around in her arms, “So, what’s this that I heard you got into trouble at school, huh? That kid must’ve deserved it if they’re pickin’ on you!” she jests.

“I hit them good and proper, exactly like you taught me to do!” You proudly mimic the moves you’d used to defend yourself, “I remembered to hit her right where it hurts!” You add.

“Ah, that’s my girl!” Caitlin beams proudly, setting you back on the ground and ruffling your hair.

“Yeah, although mama’s not happy with you now though cos’ I just told her I did what you showed me” You innocently play the two women against each other.

“Oh boy” Caitln’s face clouds as she faces Lia’s disapproving gaze at the door, while Ella is still awkwardly holding her phone.

“You seriously taught Y/N self-defence?!” Lia’s anger simmers as she confronts her ex-girlfriend.

“Yeah, why shouldn’t I have?” Caitlin fires back defensively.

Lia scoffs and shakes her head, “Because, no thanks to you and that ‘help’ it’s now led her to be suspended for the rest of the week!” she retorts incredulously.

“Whoa, whoa!” Caitlin holds her hands in self-surrender, “How is this all of a sudden just my fault?” The Australian woman furrows her eyebrows in confusion.

“Well I’m certainly not the one that taught her to use her fists, Caitlin!” Lia protests, her frustration evident.

“Uh, I don’t know what’s goin’ on right now, but uh— Oh shit, the lives’ still on” Ella mutters in realisation when she glances down at her phone and hurries to end it.

“I taught her self-defence in case she ever needed to use it, like today, for example” Caitlin argues, shaking her head.

Lia scoffs and shakes her head in disagreement with her ex, “If you hadn’t taught her it then she wouldn’t be in trouble at school in the first place!” she states firmly.

“Can I stay over here tonight, mum?” You look up at Caitlin expectantly.

“Of course you can, kiddo” Caitlin responds.

“No” Lia interjects.

You’re caught off guard by the conflicting responses from both of them, though you know that you don’t truly deserve to stay the night, all you crave is to be with your mum and mama and at least this way, you have both of them together right now.

Sometimes acting out feelings like the only solution to get their attention.

“She can stay if she wants to” Caitlin insists, glaring at Lia.

“It’s not your day, Caitlin” Lia reminds her.

“So? What does that matter– Let her spend the night here just this once, Lia. She obviously needs it with everything going on!” The Australian woman argues back.

“With everything going on? She got in trouble at school, Caitlin. This is serious– She doesn’t need to be rewarded for this behaviour!” Lia stands firm on her decision.

You shuffle your feet, a heavy weight settling in your chest as you listen to the heated exchange between your moms once again. The constant bickering, the never-ending tension– It’s like a suffocating cloud, leaving you feeling small and insignificant.

As Lia and Caitlin argue yet again, you can’t help but feel like your own problems are trivial in comparison. The bullying at school, the taunts, the physical attacks– They all seem so insignificant when your moms’ can’t even stop fighting long enough to notice.

You thought about telling them in the past, about opening up and seeking their support, but every time you muster the courage, their voices rise again, drowning out your own.

Sometimes it feels like your problems don’t matter, as if they’re too consumed by their own issues to care about yours, so it’s easiest to just suffer in silence, plastering on a smile to hide the pain, pretending like everything’s okay when it’s anything but.

You long for the days when your moms were a united front, when you felt safe and loved, and understood; Now, you just have to navigate between their two households where it feels like sometimes you’re walking on eggshells.

Sometimes you feel so lost, unsure what to do but somehow you decided down the road, it was just better to hide your feelings away from everyone who cared about you.

You made it so that neither of your mums’ realised what was going on and they just thought it was the typical misbehaviour from a teenager.

“How about you let me decide what I want to do instead of just assuming?” You speak up, tired of their endless bickering, “I’m almost 16 now, I can make my own decisions!”

You really didn’t mean to yell, but you’re fed up now. You need both of them to set aside their differences and support you.

Why was that so difficult?

“I just… I just need you both right now, I need you both together– And you can’t even stay within the same distance before you just end up yelling at one another!” You cry out, hoping they’ll understand your plea.

At least that seemed to have gotten both of their attention when they looked at you confused.

“What’re you talking about, kiddo?” Caitlin frowns, confused.

Lia turns to you bewildered, “What’s wrong, Y/N/N?” she asks, concern etched on her face.

You shuffle nervously on your feet as you try and muster up the courage to explain what has been going on.

When did things become so difficult to talk about?

“I’m being bullied…” Your voice trembles as you force the words out, a knot tightening in your throat, “It’s been going on for a while, I…. I just didn’t know how to tell you both because you’re so wrapped up in arguing with each other to care about me!” You confess, your fingers nervously picking at a loose thread on your school jumper.

Lia gasps in shock, her eyes widening in realisation, “What? That’s not true, Y/N/N” she disputes, her tone softening with concern.

Feeling a glimmer of hope at Lia’s response, you meet her gaze, your eyes pleading for understanding, “But it is true, mama” You insist, your voice shaky but determined, “Every time I’ve tried to talk to you about this, you’re either arguing or too busy with your own stuff to notice” You tell her.

Caitlin’s expression softens as she takes in your words, a pang of guilt flashing across her features, “I’m sorry kiddo” she murmurs, her voice laced with regret, “I didn’t realise… I’ve been so caught up in everything lately. I… We didn’t see how much you were hurting” she states in concern.

Tears prickle at the corner of your eyes as you nod, a wave of relief washing over you at their acknowledgement, “It’s okay” You whisper, feeling a weight lifting from your shoulders, “I just… I just need you to both be there for me, to listen and to understand me” you tell them honestly.

Lia reaches out, pulling you into a tight hug, her embrace offering comfort and reassurance, “We will be, sweetheart” she promises, her voice gentle as she glances at Caitlin who nods in agreement, “We’re here for you, no matter what” she adds.

Caitlin joins the embrace, wrapping her arms around both of you, her eyes reflecting a mix of regret and determination, “We’ll figure this out, together” she vows, her voice firm with resolve.

In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of their love and support, you feel a flicker of hope ignite within you. Despite the challenges ahead, you know that with your moms by your side, you can face anything.

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #arsenal x reader #woso #woso imagine #woso one shot #arsenal women x reader #lia wälti x reader #caitlin foord x reader #arsenal wfc x reader

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justalonelybitch · 6 months

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The Net Between Us

Volleyball Player Yunjin x F!Reader

Genre: High School AU, Angst, Fluff

Warnings: swearing, mentions of arguments, injuries, jealously, men, reader is lowkey bitchy and yunjin is a lil toxic, it's giving enemies to lovers but they alr lovers

HAPPY 2K FOLLOWERS GAYS

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let it be known that i have no clue how to play volleyball 🙏

“You’re staring again,” your best friend whispered lowly, gently tugging at your uniform sleeve to get your attention. “Sorry,” you murmured, drawing your disheartened gaze back to the girl beside you. “What’s up with you today?” Chaewon questioned handing over your water bottle. Your eyes naturally drifted back to your girlfriend who stood on the far side of the school gymnasium while contemplating the inquiry. “It’s nothing,” you brushed off her concern upon meeting Yunjin’s blank stare, swiftly spinning around in hopes of avoiding her gaze. “You’re lying,” Chaewon noted, eyes narrowing when you flashed her a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Just tired,” was all you uttered, breathing a sigh of relief when the coach blew her whistle, resuming practice. Moving through the motions of the drill proved to be difficult for your scattered brain to carry out, body moving clumsily with a mind of its own. “Y/n!” The coach yelled out in warning when you collided with another teammate. Your eyes widened when you glanced up to find a familiar head of orange hair and two strong hands steadying you by the waist. “You okay?” Yunjin asked, tone laced with a worry that brought all your emotions bubbling to the surface. “I’m fine,” you grit your teeth, the words coming out far harsher than you’d intended.

“Y/n..” Yunjin trailed off, grip on your waist tightening and brows furrowing when you glared up at her. “I said I’m fine!” You exclaimed in exasperation, shoving her hands off you as though her touch burned. “Sorry,” your girlfriend mumbled dejectedly, backing away with sagged shoulders. You forced yourself to look away despite the pang of guilt that struck your heart. “Take a minute to cool off,” your coach ordered upon observing the interaction, sending to the bench as she began organising teams of three for practice games. Your leg bounced up and down, gaze finding the floor in an attempt to rid your mind of your girlfriend. Though the harder you thought, the faster your mind wandered back to last night's argument.

Lifting your head in hopes of losing yourself in the game, you quickly found yourself growing distracted by Yunjin yet again. Only this time she engaged in a hushed conversation with your coach, the two occasionally sparing glances your way. Your eyes narrowed in suspicion when Yunjin turned away from the coach with an appreciative smile before making her towards you. A scowl crept onto your lips when she silently took up the seat next to you, hand casually landing on your knee, halting its anxious bouncing. Clenching your jaw, you angrily smacked her hand away, making a show of shifting away from her on the small bench.

“Jesus fuck Y/n, what is your problem?” Yunjin finally broke, sick of you blatantly ignoring her. “You at the moment,” you snarled, arms crossed over your chest. “Fucks sake, how many times do I have to apologise? It was one stupid argument.” She questioned incredulously, tongue poking the inside of her cheek as she ran a hand through her orange hair in frustration. “It wasn’t stupid to me,” you seethed, abruptly rising from the bench and storming away from her. Yunjin rolled her eyes at your flare for dramatics, following closely after you as you charged towards your coach with purpose. Your girlfriend arriving just in time to hear the tail end of the conversation.

“Sub me in too,” Yunjin requested upon overhearing your desire to play. You huffed in annoyance but didn’t protest when the coach blew the whistle and tossed a jersey in your direction. “Join Chaewon’s team,” the coach instructed, sending Yunjin to the opposing team much to your relief and Yunjin's dismay. “You good now?” Chaewon questioned when you reached her side. “Let’s just play,” you grumbled, eyes fixed on Yunjin who stared at you with a look of determination plastered on her features. Your best friend only shook her head as she glanced between the two of you in amusement.

You sprang into action as soon as the whistle blew, knowing your girlfriend was bound to target you with one of her famous jump serves. You received the ball with little to no difficulties, satisfaction growing as you caught a glimpse of Yunjin’s eye twitching in anger. Chaewon set the ball to your eager junior Eunchae who spiked it into the polished wooden floor without trouble. Smiling widely, you gave the younger a cheerful high-five. Yunjin watched you through the net, feeling herself melt at the sight of your beaming grin. Her determination to win quickly snapped her out of the momentary daze, but her lips still curled into the faintest of smiles as her eyes lingered on you.

Rotating your marks on the coaches orders you found yourself standing directly in front of the girl you’d spent your day avoiding. Swallowing the bitter taste that clung to your tongue at the sight of her irritating smirk you pushed yourself to focus on the game, not the player. Eunchae served this time, the ball flying right towards your senior Sakura. The eldest of the team received it easily, the ball reaching the peak of its arc before gracefully descending into Kazuha’s awaiting fingertips. Your eyes followed Yunjin closely as she leaped into the air when the ball left Kazuha’s hands. Following suit, you jumped with your arms raised, wincing when the ball collided with your palm.

Yunjin scowled when she landed, the echo of the ball landing on her team's side mocking her. You narrowed your eyes at your girlfriend, feeling your undoubtedly red palm stinging from the impact. Tension lingers between the two of you as Yunjin’s glares back at you through the net. She only spared a concerned glance at your hand when you turned away to celebrate another point ahead with your teammates. “We’ll get the next one,” Sakura comforted your girlfriend with a pat on the shoulder. Yunjin grit her teeth in determination, she swore she wouldn’t let you block another one of her spikes. “Give me the next one,” she instructed, receiving a nod of confirmation from Kazuha.

Sakura started the round off with a jump float serve Eunchae clumsily dived to receive, gliding across the hardwood floor. Chaewon rushed to dig the ball which flew over the net, a free ball for your opponents. A sense of déjà vu overcame you as Sakura recreated her perfect pass to Kazuha. Yunjin began her run up, surging into the air by the time the ball left Kazuha’s fingertips. Similarly to last time, you jumped with your hands raised, only this time your girlfriend spiked the ball with far more force than she had previously. Yunjin had decided that if she couldn’t get the ball past you she would have to go through you.

A shriek escaped your lips as the ball clipped your fingertips, knocking them backwards forcefully. You collapsed upon landing, an overwhelming pain surging through you as you cradled your hand. Yunjin’s eyes widened as she hurriedly ducked under the net, kneeling by your side in an instant. “Fuck Y/n, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” She bombarded you with questions upon reaching your side, placing a hesitant hand on your shoulder. Her previous irritation dissipated the second you glanced up at her with tear filled eyes. Still angry, your weak attempt to shift away from her resulted in groan escaping your lips as your aching fingers caught the fabric of your shirt.

Yunjin’s forehead creased in a deep frown as she peered down at you. Not only were you crying because of her rash actions, but you were also hurting yourself trying to avoid her. “We’ll talk later, just let me help you right now.” Yunjin proposed, reaching out to swipe away the stray tear that rolled down your flushed cheek with her thumb. The sincere worry swirling in her chocolate brown orbs prompted a hesitant nod of agreement from you. “The two of you better not be arguing by the time you get back from the nurses office,” Chaewon threatened before giving the two some space.

“Can you walk?” Your girlfriend asked, offering you her hand after rising to her feet. “I didn’t break my leg, did I?” You retorted snarkily, Yunjin merely raising her brows at your comment. “Sorry,” you winced regretfully, grasping her hand with your uninjured one and allowing her to pull you from the floor. Your girlfriend’s gaze remained on your rapidly swelling fingers as she escorted you out of the gymnasium, overcome by her guilt. “I’m really sorry baby, I never meant to-” “I know,” You cut Yunjin’s apology off, flashing her a tired smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. It was only then that Yunjin took the time to properly take in your appearance for the first time since your argument.

“You didn’t sleep last night,” Yunjin observed, brows furrowed in concern. “How was I supposed to after what happened?” You asked, your girlfriend pursing her lips pensively. “I’m sorry for that too, I should’ve apologised sooner.” She mumbled, giving your hand a regretful squeeze. “It’s fine, Yunjin.” You brushed her off, putting aside your anger in favour of forgiveness. “No it’s not. Just because I didn’t like how touchy that guy was being doesn’t mean I should take my anger out on you.” She uttered, pausing in the corridor so she could face you. “I’m sorry too, I overreacted and blew things out of proportion.” You followed her apology with one of your own.

“I just wish you would trust that I can handle things on my own,” you expressed with a pout. Yunjin was quick to release your hand in favour of cupping your cheeks with a gentle firmness. “I do trust you baby, I trust you with my whole heart. It’s other people I worry about,” your girlfriend explained hoping you’d understand. “I know, and I appreciate you trying to protect me all the time.” You smiled gratefully, heart swelling with warmth as she gazed into your eyes. “How about we try and talk things out next time? I don't know about you, but I'd prefer that to yelling and ignoring each other.” You proposed, receiving Yunjin’s eager agreement in the form of a peck on the lips.

“Hey, you were the one who ignored me!” Yunjin accused, eyes narrowed playfully. “And look where it got me,” you huffed, raising your injured hand into her line of sight. “Shit, I forgot about that.” Your girlfriend gasped, pressing an apologetic kiss to your cheek. “Give me a proper kiss,” you demanded with a pout. “Only because I feel bad,” Yunjin murmured before her lips brushed against your own, lingering for a sweet moment. “You sure that’s the only reason?” You questioned when she pulled away. She hummed sheepishly, a blush dusting her cheeks. “Let’s get you to a nurse!” She abruptly exclaimed, rushing off through the corridors in hopes of concealing her flushed state.

She only realised she’d forgotten to bring the very person who needed a nurse in the first place upon arriving at her destination.

missed opportunity to write for bball player yunjin smh

#yunjin x reader #le sserafim x reader #lesserafim x reader #huh yunjin x reader #yunjin imagines #le sserafim imagines #lesserafim imagines #huh yunjin imagines

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fantasyandshit · 3 months

Text

The light and the dark

Type: series

Part: 2/?

Other parts here

Pairing: Azriel x reader

Summary:What happens when Feyre returns home for the second time, well the first time for Yn.

*3rd person pov*

Feyre sits arguing with Nesta as them, Rhysand, Azriel, Cassian, and Elain sit at the long table when the bang of a door swinging open sounds from downstairs and the yell of the youngest Archeron follows “I’m home” Yn stomps into the room with her head down before turning and shrugging off her coat, Feyre notes her sisters gained more muscle, and scars.

“Man this guy he fucking- he fucking clawed at my face man, like a fucking cat.” Yn still hadn’t noticed the fae in her room or the fact that Feyre had stood from her seat. “Oh um I was planning to uh go out to search for Feyre again tomorrow by the way.” That causes the four fae to freeze. She hadn’t known? Finally Yn turns to face the table and Feyre has just enough time to study the jagged talon scar across her face-the one from Tamlin. “Feyre?” Yn lunges at her sister, burying her head in her chest as she’s pulled just as tight, tears escaping both female eyes.

The girl turned far freezes as her sister pulls away and her hands move curiously to her ears, Rhysand growing more tense and ready to step in if needed, “gods I didn’t think you could get more beautiful sister.” A small smile graces Yn’s lips as she continues to study her sister.

———

*yns pov*

A small humorless laugh leaves my sister, “I thought you’d hate me. That that was the reason you weren’t here the first time I returned?”

I freeze, my body going rigid, “you-you’ve been here before?” My face falls as it dawns on me, “Nesta, you lied to me! While I was out searching for my sister she was here? You never.” I shake my head, “I can’t believe you. I can’t, gods you really are a selfish bitch.” My mouth is open in disbelief pain and hate in my eyes.

“Yn. Please calm- calm down.” Feyre’s voice is so soft I barely hear it as she holds my arm, I turn to her and nod and that’s when I notice them. I’d been to worked up to notice the three males in the room, two adorning wings-Illyrians as I had read and the other what seems to be a high fae.

I storm to the violet eyed high fae knowing he’s the one that can transform to a beast. “You bastard! You took her from me!” Before anyone has time to react I’m on top of the male as he lies on the ground, landing blow after blow to his face. “You took her! You kidnapped her, what did you do with her? Why-“ Something cool carefully pulls me from the male with a soft grip around my waist. As I’m stood up I notice one of the illyrians-the one with red gems adorning his leathers has his head tipped back in a barking laughter, the other stands, shadows I hadn’t noticed before swirling him; that’s when I notice, the thing that picked me up was a tendril of his shadows. I look down and touch it curiously, it scurries up my face, curling around my ear and caressing my face. A smile graces my lips, “hello little guy.”

“Yn. This is Rhysand. He is not the one who kidnapped me, he is the one who saved me. And this is Cassian,” she points to the Illyrian who was laughing, “and that is Azriel,” as he’s addressed, the shadow floats over to him.

I turn to ‘Rhysand’, blood drips down his nose and split lip. “How do I know he hasn’t threatened you into saying that?” My eyes never leave the male as he smiles.

“I can show you, I can show her memories if she is ok with it of course.” He turns to my sister and she nods, her small smile still there in encouragement.

“Fine.” It comes out a strangled sigh before my eyes glaze and I’m shown everything. Afterward I turn to my sister, seething. “I have at least a dozen names to add to my list of people I shall kill.” Cassian laughs again, and I spin to face him, “do you have a problem? Is it just you or are all you Illyrian males like this?”

“It’s just him.” Azriel has a small smirk painting his lips, “he’s quite immature.” The male sticks his gloved hand out to me, and I take it as he bows slightly and kisses my star flecked hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Feyre speaks very highly of you.”

“The pleasures all mine.” We stare at one another longer than what is considered necessary before I clear my throat and back away, “how do you control the shadows?”

My question seems to catch him by surprise as one of said shadows- as if called comes to twirl around my hand. “I’m what’s known as a shadowsinger, I don’t control them per se, more speak to them, understand their language.” Everyone watches for a moment as the shadow continues to twist around me like a dance, more joining it. “They’ve never acted like this with anyone. I’m sorry.”

“No dont apologize,” my grin is directed to him now, “I think they’re quite lovely.”

The night goes on as I ignore my two eldest sisters and continue talking with the fae before they must leave with a sad goodbye.

—————

@wallacewillow0773638

@pinksmellslikelove

@sassybluebird

@gorlillaglue25

@khaleesihavilliard

Sorry I don’t know how I do a tag list. Hopefully this was right?

#azriel x reader #acotar #acotar x reader #nesta x reader #nesta archeron #elain x reader #elain archeron #azriel #feyre x reader #feyre archeron #rhysand x reader #rhysand #cassian x reader #cassian

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louiewrites · 1 month

Text

synopsis; Mr. Harrington is married. You know that. You just cant help yourself.

warnings; slapping, degration, creampie, aftercare, steve is mean, adultery, fingering, unprotected sex.

a/n; wrote this in like an hr forgive me. feedback appreciated. <3

The sounds that left your lips were downright sinful. It was all sinful truly; you knew he had a wife. It was common knowledge that Mr. Harrington had a wife, but that only encouraged you further.

Once his lips touched yours, every thought of his family left both of your minds. Once your hands touched his skin, all sense of morality escaped your bodies.

Steve’s hand was around your throat, thumbs pressing deliciously into your soft skin as he kissed you deeply. His fingers were knuckle deep into your sopping cunt and thrusting with vigor, and you couldn’t stop the constricted whines that escaped you.

“You like that, don’t you, sweetheart?” Steve’s voice was teasing, demeaning, almost. It made your head spin. “Yes, yes, sir.” You sounded so desperate as your hand reached down to his wrist, doing whatever you could to just keep his hands right there. You clenched your eyes tight, your mouth slacked open as you chased your release.

Warm, wet lips kissed your cheek. “So beautiful, baby.” The words made your walls flutter around his fingers, a whimper escaping you. Your back arched as your fingernails dug into his wrist, your pussy steadily convulsing around his fingers.

Suddenly he let go of your neck, and his fingers came to a halt. A choked sound left you as your eyes snapped open, only to be met with Steve’s face, red cheeks, and his eyebrow raised.

Slap!

Your cheek received a harsh slap, and tears began to gather in your eyes. Steve’s hand gripped your jaw, turning your face to him. “Do you know what I risk doing this with you? Or are you too much of a slut to know that? Hm? Who’s pussy is this?” He landed a slap onto your cunt, your legs instinctively trying to close on him.

“Yours, sir! All yours, please, I’m all yours!” The words came out in a rambled, choked sob. “I like the sound of that. All mine.” He was unbuckling his jeans quickly, pushing them and his briefs down to the floor. He pulled his shirt off as well, while you squirmed and sniffled on your spot in the bed.

Seeing his cock, red and leaking, had your mouth watering. Steve’s hair brushed against your cheek as he crawled up to you, slotting perfectly between your thighs and leaning down to your ear. “You’re mine, honey. All mine, understand?” His hand guided his cock to your entrance, and he sank into you once he finished his sentence. You nodded, hands coming up to his shoulders, fingernails digging into the pale skin. Your legs wrapped around his waist, heels digging into his cheeks as a means to make him go faster.

His firm arms held him up as he let out a groan, your cunt being absolute heaven to him. The sounds you made were music to his ears, and he’d give everything to hear them all the time. Every moan, whine, and whimper you let out was embedded in his mind like a life lesson.

“Sir, please, move.” At the sound of your voice, he sat up on his knees, gripping your ankles and pushing them as close to you as they would go, bending you in half. His wedding band dug into your skin, reminding you instantly of what you were doing. But you didn’t care. “So fucking greedy.” Finally, his hips moved back, quickly snapping forward, his skin hitting yours with a delicious sting. Your eyes rolled back, hands gripping his arms.

Steve showed no mercy as he started thrusting into you like his life depended on it, sweat starting to trickle down his forehead. The sweat made his hair stick to his skin, the sight alone enough to fuel a wet dream. “So good, sir, so good.” your words were almost incomprehensible, but Steve understood. He always did.

With every thrust he delivered, you could feel your release getting closer and closer. “Gonna cum so soon, baby? Embarrassing.” He seethed, his right hand traveling up to your jaw once again, gripping it in his hand. “Nuh uh, look at me.” Your eyes opened, staring into his as your toes curled from pleasure, obscenity’s spilling from your mouth.

Tears were still continuously trailing down your warm cheeks, your eyes staring into his as your release crashed down on you, your cunt clenching around him and your legs trembling. He broke eye contact this time, a guttural groan of your name leaving his mouth, before he leaned over you on his elbows. Soft lips crashed against yours and he thrusted one, two, three, more times before he stilled, cumming inside of you.

The kiss swallowed up every moan that came from either of you. It was beautiful, truly. Once he pulled away from the kiss for air, finally getting a good look at him. His lips were red and slick with spit, his hair was damp with sweat, and his eyes held nothing but love. Your hands got lost in his hair, scratching his scalp as he regained his normal breathing. His body dropped into yours, nuzzling his head into your warm, sweaty skin as he basked in the feeling of euphoria.

Eventually, he pulled out of you, grinning at the sight of his cum leaking out of your cunt. “Lemme clean you up.” He hauled himself to the bathroom, taking some time to clean himself up, and then he walked back into the room, a wet washcloth in hand. Your body was laid out, just how he left you, but you were breathing shallowly, nearly overcome by sleep.

Steve couldn’t help but get butterflies. You were stunning. He cleaned you up before slipping a shirt from your closet over your head, then he gently tucked you in. He put his clothes back on before turning to look at you one last time. “Sweet dreams. I love you, sweetheart.”

You knew he had a family to get home to. You knew the consequences of this. A part of you hurt, wished he could be yours only. But in moments like this, you especially longed for him. Moments when you were half asleep while he tucked you in, while he told you he loved you. You were reduced to a title you hated in these moments.

The other woman. That’s all you would ever be.

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tiredfox64 · 3 days

Note

🔆 you’re popping off. your writing rocks brah.

I was hoping maybe you could do Raiden and Kung Lao fighting over readers (fem/afab) attention. Like back and forth jabs. And like Kung Lao trying to show off, kinda talks down on raiden in front of her. where as Raiden takes a more gentle approach with helping the reader with their training, helping her with her form he’ll glance at Kung Lao knowingly. It builds a small wedge between them, so reader decides to invite both over one night. And like you know that movie challengers? Like the zendaya scene where she’s got the two guys kissing her? Like THAT. LIKE THAT. If you can do this. I’ll piss rainbows. 🌈

Are You Challenging Me?

Prior notes: I had only the trailer to work off of so I hope I got things right. Also what a statement from you at the end. It’s not bad it’s unique and I like it.

Pairings: Kung Lao x Afab reader x Raiden

Warnings ‼️: Suggestive at the end

Even those who have been friends for so long can end up fighting over something. That something could be a girl. That girl would be you.

No one has ever seen Raiden and Kung Lao turn a friendly competition into a serious one. Constant bickering and jabs at each other that turn to hisses from nasty remarks. You would only see this kind of tension from middle school boys or some cheesy teen movie from the 2000s. Ah but boys will be boys. Who can blame them?

You are the prettiest girl they’ve ever seen. Not just that but you are tough and always willing to learn more. That’s why you train with them so much. Well, it used to be training. Things have changed since you came around. Mostly their attitude and their closeness.

You knew Kung Lao was cocky and boastful, even for a Shaolin monk. The things he did in front of you made the other monks groan in frustration and caused Raiden to shake his head in disapproval. He was always calling for your attention.

“Hey! Hey! Look! I can spin as fast as a tornado!” “Check this out! I can beat up five guys at once!” “I bet Raiden can’t strike as fast as I can! What do you think?”

That was the usual stuff you would hear. Though comparing himself to Raiden was mostly common. He would put Raiden down the moment he had the chance. It would go beyond fighting and go into ridiculous stuff.

He can eat more than Raiden. He can jump higher than Raiden. He can stay up later than Raiden. Everything Raiden could do, Kung Lao could do better. He’ll prove it again right now.

Kung Lao ran up to you and Raiden, almost crashing right into him.

“Hey Raiden, how about another fight? Whoever loses has to pay the next time we visit Madame Bo’s.” Kung Lao was hoping he would say yes just so he could beat Raiden up.

“I can’t, Kung Lao. Can’t you see we are busy?”

“Oh I see. You’re afraid of losing again. Bet you’re afraid of embarrass yourself in front of her. Don’t worry, I get it.” He patted Raiden on the back before letting out a laugh like he successfully humiliated him.

“That’s not it,” he rolls his eyes before speaking, “I’m helping her with training right now. We can fight soon just let me finish up here.”

Raiden loved to help you and you were grateful for that. Though it always seemed like you needed adjusting when it came to your form or help when stretching. Even if you are a centimeter off he had to correct you. Guess he is a perfectionist. Or maybe he is sneaky.

Raiden came behind you and placed his hands on your waist. His foot tapped yours to make it move to the side more. You didn’t notice but he gave a light squeeze to your waist. He wished he could wrap his arms around you but now is not the time. Though it would upset Kung Lao a lot.

His hands traced up your arms till they were at your head. Your face was so soft he wanted to kiss it. But all he can do now is adjust it. Raiden glanced at Kung Lao and saw he was almost seething with rage. For once he decided to be a little cruel to his dear friend.

He went down till his face was inches away from your thigh. His hands grabbed at the tantalizing piece of flesh before him and turned it slightly. Now your form was perfect.

Kung Lao couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Though Raiden’s straw hat was concealing his eyes it could not conceal that smirk on his face. He knows exactly what he was doing. He’s just too good at hiding his devilish intentions behind a sweet, kissable face.

It seems that no matter how many time Kung Lao shows off, Raiden will always be the winner here. He’s the one who gets to touch you.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

You’re not dense you can feel that something is wrong. There is tension in the air and it only appears when Kung Lao and Raiden are in the same vicinity.

You have been keeping a close eye on their relationship. They have been drifting apart for some time now. Everyone can see that. What you didn’t get was why. You were missing the signs. You missed the glances Raiden would give to Kung Lao. You missed the fact that Kung Lao would only call for your attention, not anyone else’s.

You had to do something about this. It would be a shame if their friendship crumbled over something silly. Whatever that silly thing was.

Inviting them over to your place was a great start. Though they might be shocked when they see each other at your place. You might have left that out on purpose.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

“What the—what are you doing here, Raiden?”

“What am I doing here? I should be asking you the same thing, Kung Lao.”

They both stared at each other with mouths agape. They were confused as if the possible reason was outlandish. It’s not like there is a universal rule that you can only invite one person to your place.

“What are you two standing there for? Come inside, you’ll catch your deaths out there.” You called for them.

They didn’t even realize you opened the door. But now that they do they were racing to get it. Kung Lao pushed Raiden out of the way, leaving him with a disappointed expression.

Your place was well decorated and well kept. It’s only you living in this small house. That doesn’t make it any less of a home. Your house expresses you which the boys really like. They followed you closely but realize you were heading in the direction of your room. There was hesitation, especially from Raiden. Why not just stay in the living room? What gives?

You don’t have time for this stupidity. You grabbed their hands and dragged them into your room. They always imagined being in your room , of course that fantasy always involved you on the bed and the other one not being there. Clearly none of that good stuff will happen, right?

“Alright, sit down, I need to ask you guys something.” You plopped down on your bed.

The bed is off limits in their minds. The chairs? No. The bean bag? No. The floor? Probably a safe bet.

They sat in front of you, looking up at you like loving puppies waiting to be loved by their master. That’s not the first order of business tonight. Don’t be fooled by their eyes. There is still a wedge between them.

“Mind telling me what’s got you two so bothered. Don’t act like I haven’t noticed your strange behavior recently. I’m concerned about you guys.”

They can tell that you really care just by the tone of your voice. But a silence still hung in the air. Kung Lao nor Raiden wanted to speak the truth. It’s awkward, especially with your bro there. Kung Lao’s cockiness got to him though, reminding him of who he is. He shouldn’t be afraid so he’ll say it.

“I want you to be my girlfriend.” He declared.

Well that was a shock. You know what else shocked you? Raiden.

“I want you to be my girlfriend.” He said as well.

They glared at each other after saying that. They don’t even acknowledge the fact that you were sitting there with a confused expression. It’s not usual for two men to ask you out at the same time, in the same way. It was at least straight forward. You snapped your fingers at them to bring their attention back to you. Like the good boys they are they obey.

“How often does this happen? Going after the same girl?” You asked.

“Not as often as you think.” Raiden responded.

“We usually have different types.” Kung Lao chimed in.

This is weird. Somehow you were the connection between them when it came to types yet at the same time being the wedge between them.

“So…are you saying I should be flattered?”

“Aren’t you everybody’s type?” Kung Lao said it so innocently that it was smooth. He does good when he’s not trying too hard.

Think about this for yourself now. It’s no lie that you like them both. They have their own quirk that draws you in. You love Raiden’s kindness yet ability to be brutal while in battle. He works hard and is willing to guide others to try hard as well. Kung Lao’s cockiness can be annoying to others but it enriches you. It gives him confidence and the ability to think of new ideas. That razor-rimmed hat didn’t come out of thin air. There is so much you can say and love about them. But which one do you choose?

Alright, you have an idea. A weird one but it’s an idea.

“Come here.” You motioned for them to join you on your bed.

“Which one of us?” Kung Lao asked but Raiden was already up and running to your bed. Kung Lao got there just as quick as he did.

Nothing else was said from you. You only had actions. You leaned into Raiden first, bringing his head closer to yours. Your lips captured his in a passionate kiss. It was just like everything he imagined. Your lips were soft and had the slightest hint of vanilla that came from your favorite lip balm. He was practically melting in the palm of your hands as he wished this could last forever. But you pulled away, you have someone else to get to.

When you turned towards Kung Lao he has an upset expression on his face. It turned to shock the moment he felt your lips against his. That softness and the taste of vanilla enchanted him. He almost turned the passionate kiss into a whole make out session. That desperation to have you and touch you himself was building up for quite a while. He doesn’t want to hold himself back. But just like with Raiden you pulled away.

From the kisses you gave to them you came to the conclusion that you like them both equally. You don’t want to break either one of their hearts since it will break yours as well. So why not have both men. This can do good in bringing their friendship together again. It might even make it stronger. Yeah, this can work out. And you would have told them but they came to a similar conclusion as well. That will be discussed later.

For now you are more focused on their lips that are leaving kisses all over your neck. It makes your body heat rise up and causes a stir between your legs. Their hands are all over you. Kung Lao’s reaches for your neck to hold it still while Raiden’s reaches for your chest. You whimper at the sensation of their tongues lightly licking your skin. Kung Lao thinks it best to stay leaving hickeys on you. It will show everyone who you belong to. Raiden should do the same so that all know that you belong to them.

They lightly push you back against your bed. There is a hunger in their eyes. One that has built up for days. Raiden just can’t wait to hold you close as Kung Lao goes to town on you.

There is no shame is wanting this as well. Don’t hide that devious smirk from them. It will let them know to keep going.

You know what they say. Sharing is caring. And they care for you a lot.

After notes: If you’re gonna piss rainbows do it in the ditch I dug. If a skittle don’t fall out imma be disappointed. I have a sneaking suspicion that imma be asked of more from this. I didn’t want to push it beyond anything I’m sorry if you wanted more. Now I must finish eating before I mentally prepare myself for my class tonight. Adiós!

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hwalilac · 1 year

Text

Prove You Wrong

⇴ pairing: jeong yunho x f!reader

⇴ genre: smut

⇴ words: 1k

⇴ warnings: unprotected

⇴ a/n: this is a re-upload! feedback is accepted and welcome, I’d love to hear your thoughts on my work! if you’d like to be on my taglist, lmk. if you’d like to see more of my work, check out my masterlist!

You’re at the dorms with Yunho and the rest of the boys, playing games like spin the bottle and truth or dare. While you’re playing truth or dare, you find some of the dares to be… questionable. Like how Wooyoung dares Mingi to kiss him. But it’s all fun and games. That is, until it’s your turn.

You don’t wanna look like a baby, so you pick dare. San looks at you with sharp eyes, like he’s ready to make your life miserable. You can’t help but look at Yunho, your safe space, for comfort. You have a feeling this is gonna be bad. “Kiss Yunho,” San says with confidence.

Your mouth opens. That’s it? That’s all he comes up with? You laugh, “Sure thing, buddy.” You turn to Yunho and grab a hold of his sharp jaw, pulling his close and put a nice smooch right of his soft lips. Easy, you think. Obviously you weren’t planning on making out in front of the boys or anything, so a regular kiss will suffice.

“My turn!” Wooyoung smirks, looking directly at you. “Hey you just went!” Seonghwa complains. But it’s too late, Wooyoung’s already preparing to make you suffer, probably way worse than San. “Y/n… tell us. How big is Yunho’s dick?” Your mouth fell agape. Is he really asking this right now? “W-well, I don’t.. I don’t think we should be… you know…” you try curving the conversation.

“Wow Yunho, are you not even that big that you’re girlfriend can confidently answer?” San laughs. Jongho starts giggling as well, gums showing and hand covering his face. They’re setting you up! That’s not even what you meant. But before you could even try explaining without stuttering over your words, the boys all start teasing Yunho, saying he probably can’t even pleasure you.

You can’t help but feel bad, but you’re too shy and dumbfounded to speak up and say what you’re really thinking. He’s fucking huge. But when Yunho looks over to you, seething through his teeth, you know you’ve fucked up. “You know what? Fuck you guys.” Yunho grumbles. He gets up, pulling you with him, and drags you to his bedroom.

You’ve really done it this time.

He slams the door shut, locking it. You look at him in surprise, shocked he’s this mad. “Yunho, I’m so sor-” “Shut up,” he demands. Yunho pushes you back against the bed, crawling on top of you. He grabs your hands, pulling them up and over your head. His hips grind against yours.

“You feel that? My big, hard fucking cock? You forget how big it is? Hm? You forget how good it feels when my huge cock slides into that tight fucking cunt?” he teases his clothed cock against your core. “No, Sir, I didn’t.” He puts his soft lips up against your ear. You shiver when he slightly blows cool air against it.

“Really? Because it seemed like you forgot out there. Letting me get humiliated in front of my friends.” His lips travel down from the top of your neck to your collarbone. No kissing or biting, just dragging his lips down, the feeling tickling you. “Let me remind you how big I am,” he smirks at you, as he pulls his body back from you.

His starts taking off his pants, his his shirt, then his boxers. His cock springs free, bouncing up and hitting his stomach. Fuck he’s huge. Yunho climbs back on top of you, but only to put his face to your pussy. “Mm baby, so wet for me. What a slut for my cock.”

His fingers plunge into you so fast you don’t even have time to prepare yourself for the feeling. He starts going at it like crazy, pounding his fingers into you. He loves how tight your cunt is, no matter how much he stretches it out. He starts lapping at your clit as well, bringing you closer and closer to your high.

You feel it coming, so you start to warn him, but before you can even say anything he pulls out. “Nuh uh baby, no coming unless it’s on my cock.” You let out a sigh of annoyance, letting him know how disappointed you are. But you won’t be for long, as he gets back up and lines up his cock. Yunho pumps it a few times, spreading his arousal all over.

Once he pushes in, you know you’re done for. There’s no way the boys won’t be able to hear you. It’s so fucking good, the way he immediately starts slamming his hips into yours, setting off at a fast pace. Your moans immediately fill the room. Yunho’s hand go to your chest, tweaking your buds as his other hand pulls your leg up and throws it over your shoulder. This angle is so much deeper, making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“Oh fuck Sir, please plea-ease p-please. It’s so good, please l-let me come!!” You yell out to him. There’s no way the boys don’t hear the skin slapping and moaning. But honestly, you couldn’t care less. And Yunho, well he wanted them to hear, just to prove them wrong. You grab the back of his hair, pulling his lips closer, wanting to hold him. You always do this when your high is coming up.

So he goes harder and harder, fingers at your nipples coming down and rubbing your clit. Pushing you closer and closer to your orgasm. And when you finally come, he comes as well. In you. You rarely do it, but in the moment you couldn’t care less. His hot seed inside you feels so good. Yunho watches as it drips out of you. He pushes it right back in with his fingers.

Once he cleans you up, he kisses you on your forehead and you walk back to the living room where all the boys are still sitting. Except, the one thing you notice as soon as you walk in is the hard on that every single one of them has. Yunho laughs, and says “Guess I proved you wrong.”

I do not give permission for anyone to repost my work

#ateez smut #ateez #Yunho #yunho smut #jeong yunho #Ateez Yunho #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez reactions #ateez fic #ateez suggestive

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silentglassbreak · 2 months

Text

Fragmented

Noah Sebastian x OFC

I’m getting some of the most amazing comments and reblogs, I thank you all so deeply!! I love this story so much. I love where I know it’s going, so please trust me?

Warnings: Good ol' fashioned misery.

+It goes without saying. This is a work of fiction. My words are mine. Plagiarism is a crime.

Taglist: @flowery-mess @lma1986 @myownthoughts12 @poisongirl616 @missduffsblog @reidsblessing @malerieee @jilliemiw86

Part 4 - Graveyard

I could feel how flighty she was, like a feral cat that could scurry with any sudden movements. I held my hands out, trying to ease tension, and failing.

“Baby,” Her face was unreadable. Something between bewilderment and pure shock, but also seething rage, possibly. “nothing happened.”

She stared at me, waiting for me to say more, but I didn’t.

“That’s all you’ve got?” She was mocking me, and my stupidity. Good. I deserve it.

“Yes. Because that’s all there is.”

Her eye roll was as dramatic as they come, nearly making her head spin.

“Well, she was sure worked the fuck up, Noah. Sounded like a little more than nothing.”

The evenness in her voice contradicted her body language. She was now stood, hands in the air, confrontational.

“She’s insane.”

Her eyebrows jumped, a look of disbelief on her face.

“A girl essentially professes her love to you, and you call her insane?”

Yes. Abso-fucking-lutely.

“Leena, I’m not just being an asshole here. She has actually fucking lost it.”

I tried to mimic her calm, hoping this would steer the conversation on a healthier course.

That hope was thrown out when her voice jumped several decibels.

“Oh fuck you, Noah!” I could see them now, the hot, angry tears, rising to the surface, not quite ready to spill over. “People aren’t just so fucking obsessed with you that they make that kind of shit up!”

My eyes were staring at her, a frantic anxiety now rising inside me.

“She did! I’ve never, not fucking once, given her any ideas! She’s fucking mental, Mileena!”

“What happened at the club, Noah?” Her voice was back down, her hands hanging helpless at her sides.

“Nothing happened. We talked, and she spilled a fucking drink on me, and herself, so I-“

“Back up.” She put her hand up. “Don’t gloss over the details. Walk me through it.”

I shrugged hard. “I was alone, sitting on the couch, and she came over to talk to me. She had already had a few, and was pretty drunk when she approached me.” I pinched the bridge of my nose, frustration bubbling. “She spilled her drink on both of us.”

“So you were sitting pretty close together?” She raised an eyebrow, her arms again crossed in front of her.

“Jesus, Mileena, it’s a club! It was loud!” I threw my hands in the air and eyed her, irritated. “Since when are you the jealous type?!”

Her mouth fell open, and I regretted it the second it came out of my mouth. What a stupid fucking thing to say. Of course she’s not. That’s not what this was.

“The jealous type?!” How do I delete the last ten seconds? “You think this is me being jealous?!”

Ctrl + Alt + Del?! End Task?!

“You’re the one that’s fucking insane, Noah!” She turned, grabbing her phone off of the nightstand. “Let me show you how your behavior changed since that night.”

She unlocked her phone, opened our thread, and began scrolling. I didn’t even need to be close to see, my texts were back to back, five to six at a time, or paragraph long messages. She switched to her call logs, which was just my name over and over the past several days.

I would like to hand in my resignation to life now, please.

“Since that night, you’ve been blowing me up, and being extra affectionate, and clingy.” She scoffed, locking her phone and tossing it on the bed. “First I thought you just missed me but-“

“I did miss you!”

“You felt fucking guilty, Noah!” Her voice was nearing a scream. “Now quit pussy-footing around it and tell me what fucking happened that night!”

I sat down in the bed, and took a deep breath.

“Please believe me when I tell you, nothing actually happened.”

She stayed planted, several feet away.

“We left the club, I gave her a ride because she was going to Uber, and that wasn’t safe.” She was deathly silent. “Car ride took about thirty minutes because of traffic. We just listened to music, sang the songs on the radio.”

“She made a bit of a pass at me before she got out, saying something like she wanted to get to know me better? Or something like that. I don’t remember verbatim.”

“Then?”

“I went back to the club.”

She shifted her weight, leaning back on the desk against the wall. “That’s it? That’s all?”

I chewed the inside of my cheek. “No.”

She visibly tensed, so I just went on.

“She texted me later. Said she left her vape in the car.” I looked up at her, trying to earn some kind of emotion. I was met with nothing but ice. “So I went to go get it.”

“She couldn’t get it herself?”

I didn’t have an answer for that. She could’ve. She offered.

“I found it, and took it to her room.” Her face almost looked like it was turning a sickly shade of green. “She opened the door, in her underwear, and a crop top.”

Her fingers were gripping the edge of the desk so hard that it was likely to snap if she didn’t let up.

“She invited me in. I left. Went back to my room. And avoided her ever since.”

Her hands eased ever so gently, but she didn’t let up her gaze. Seeing she wasn’t satisfied with that, I swiped my own phone from the table, and opened to Rachel’s text thread, handing her the phone.

“See? Nothing.”

She scrolled, eyes reading the one-sided conversation from the last few days.

“Only other thing I can tell you is that Folio told me that she said some shit to him at the bar, that she liked me? Or wanted to sleep with me?” I sighed. “I don’t know, and I don’t really care.”

She nodded, locking my phone, but still had yet to speak. She was thinking, going over it in her head, checking for holes, but there were none. That was all of it. I didn’t do anything wrong.

“I have only one question.” She handed my phone back to me, and I just nodded. “In the hall, she asked you if you considered it, going in her room. If you thought about it.”

My stomach dropped, my mouth went dry, and my heart stopped, all in the same fraction of a second before her next words came out.

“Did you?”

Where do I go from here? My brain, my heart, and all of my senses screamed at me to lie.

But I couldn’t.

Last time I lied to Mileena, I was drinking. And she left me. And who would know? Who could prove me wrong?

But…I couldn’t.

“Yes.”

I saw something, I can’t say what exactly, break behind her eyes. A tear finally spilled out over her cheek, and I saw her jaw clench under her skin. I felt as though I had just cut a cord on a rope bridge that held me up, and now I was just falling. Plummeting.

“Oh…” Her voice was so small now, and I felt something inside me shredding. Screaming. I’m such a fucking idiot.

Good one, Sebastian. Way to take it to your grave, dumbass.

But this was a grave, that I somehow ended up in, that I didn’t even fucking dig. It was fucking aggravating.

I stood up, reaching for her, but she flinched, putting an arm up between us, and squeezed her lids closed. More tears leaked from her eyes, and she only cracked them open for a second.

“Can you, uh, give me a few minutes?” She averted her eyes away, and I backed away from her out of respect. “I’m just…” She waved her hands around her head. “processing.”

I nodded. “Of course.” Shrugging, I pulled my shirt off. “I can take a shower? And we can talk more after?”

She only nodded in response, wiping her face.

I made my way into the bathroom, leaving the door open. I decided to take a quick shower, trying to wash the anxiety off of me. It was out in the open now, the fun part was working through it, and reminding Leena that no one else compared to her, and my idiotic brain was never going to turn on me like that again.

Imagine my shock when I stepped out of the bathroom, and my hotel room was empty, her bag, phone, and shoes gone. I ran over to my cell, opening it to call her when it began ringing, Nick’s face flashing.

I opened the call with haste. “What’s up?” My voice was frantic.

“Dude, what the fuck happened?!”

My fist was slamming into the door harder with each swing, the phone up to my ear telling me I was getting voicemail, again.

I growled, and beat on the door harder. “Open the fucking door, Rachel!”

I felt a set of hands on my shoulders, tugging backward.

“Noah! Calm the fuck down!” I fought back against Folio, as the door to the room swung open.

Rachel’s eyes were still thick with sleep, her hair hanging in a low ponytail. This time, she was fully clothed. Hilarious.

“You fucking psychopath!” My logical brain was gone, and I was fully primal, as I lunged toward her. Several hands had me around the waist, arms, and one on my chest. Nick’s face came into my line of vision.

“Noah, stop! Fucking stop!”

“No! She’s fucking insane! She knows what the fuck she’s doing!” I was baring my teeth like an animal, my hands balled into fists.

She stared at me, terrified, eyes blown wide and nearly hiding behind the door.

“W-What are you talking about?” Her words were timid, which only enraged me further.

“Don’t pull that bullshit! You knew she’d hear you! You manipulative bitch!”

A hard slap came across my cheek, and I glared over at Nick, who had taken a defensive step back.

As angry as I should’ve been, I was instead brought back to reality, realizing it was at least 1AM, in a hotel hallway.

“You good, dude?” My eyes stared at his, my body softening with each passing second. Eventually, the hands holding me loosened, and I shrugged away from them.

I nodded at Nick, who pushed my shoulder down the hallway toward another door. “C’mon dude, let’s go talk.”

“Is he drunk?” I could hear Rachel’s voice behind me, and I snarled, almost turning around before I heard Folio.

“Oh shut up, Rachel. You’ve done enough.”

Safely inside the room, I sat heavily on the bed, and dropped my head in my hands. My friends stood around me, staring down at me.

“She left?” Folio’s voice was sad, and I just nodded, staring at the floor.

“She came and got Laura about half an hour ago. She was crying. Said they had to leave.”

I picked my head up. “Laura was in your room?”

Nick raised his brows at me. “Is that really your concern right now?”

I heaved a breath and flopped back onto the bed, covering my face with both arms.

“She’s not answering my calls.”

“Fill us in, man.” Jolly sat next to me.

I had to go through all of the details again, them all asking various questions. By the end, I was more calm, but still so fucking angry.

“I’ve got to get home, man. I can’t ride back with her.”

Nick nodded. “We can rent a car in the morning? Drive back alone?”

“Pfft, and leave us with the wicked witch?”

I snorted at Folio’s comment.

“What the fuck am I going to do?”

“For starters, I’m calling Sumerian tomorrow. Figure out our options, legally.” Leave it to Jolly to use his right mind. “For now, you need to stay away from her.”

Standing up, I moved toward the bedroom door, squeezing the handle before opening it. “Not a problem. Just keep her the fuck away from me.”

Back in my room, I promptly blocked Rachel’s number from my phone, electing not to send her a last scathing text message.

I then, profusely, called Mileena. I was met with voicemail, leaving a few in my endeavor to reach her. I must have done this for hours before finally falling asleep, fully clothed, on top of the comforter.

When I awoke, Nick was jostling my shoulder, a duffel hanging from his shoulder.

“Let’s go, Sleeping Beauty. I’ve got the rental downstairs.”

I obeyed, gathering my things haphazardly, and following him to the lobby, not bothering to stop to brush my teeth or comb my hair. I didn’t care. Nothing mattered.

The drive back to Calabasas was long, hot, and irritating. I was slumped in the passenger’s seat while Nick drove. About half an hour in, I finally spoke.

“What if she doesn’t forgive me?”

Nick scoffed. “Please.” I glanced at him inquisitively. “She’s forgiven you for worse.”

I bumped my head back into the headrest repeatedly, groaning. “I hate this.”

“I know. But it’ll all work out, dude. Mileena loves you, and she’s a reasonable person.”

I nodded, accepting that answer.

“So…” He turned to look at me for a second. “You and Laura?” This made him crack a smile, that I returned.

“She’s fucking cool, dude.”

I slapped a hand on his shoulder. “Damn good baker, too.”

He nodded. “Yeah, she made me this cheesecake for my birthday? Fuck, man. Amazing!”

My mouth fell open. “Your birthday was five months ago!”

He laughed. “Dude, you miss a lot.”

I shook my head. “You little shit, couldn’t tell your best friend?!”

“Sure, if my best friend wasn’t always so wrapped up in his own drama.”

I punched a fist at his shoulder, laughing.

“Jackass.”

I opened the front door, and was met with overwhelming silence. No Angel barking. No TV playing. No voices. Nothing.

I moved slowly into the house, feeling an overwhelming nausea, as I bound up the stairs toward my room to deposit my bag. It was clear no one was here, but I didn’t know what to expect the further into the house I got.

The note was laying on the middle of the bed, but I didn’t pick it up immediately. I set my bag down and opened one of the dresser drawers, Leena’s pants drawer, which was empty. I then walked into the closet, where all I found were empty hangers on her side. I jogged down the hall to Addie’s room, where I found her walker, diapers, wipes, and clothes were gone. Even Angel’s bed that was always laid in the corner was gone.

My heart sunk, and I walked slowly back to my room, picking up the folded paper on the blanket, opening it to see her clean script.

Addie, Angel, and I will be staying at Laura’s for a while. Dad left this morning. When you’re ready to come see the baby, text Laura.

-Leena

I dropped the note, it falling gently back to the bed. Without thinking, my hand grabbed the lamp on the side table, slinging it at the wall behind the dresser, causing it to shatter.

“God damn it!” I screamed, my words echoing around the empty house. The tears fell hot onto the bed, my teeth grinding tightly together.

I let a few hours pass, taking a cold shower, and forcing myself to calm down. I ate a bowl of cereal, choking down each bite while fighting against the nausea settled in my gut. After I had gotten dressed, and relaxed enough to know I wouldn't explode at any given moment, I texted Laura.

Me: Hey

I didn't have to wait long.

Laura: Hey

Me: Can I come see Addie?

Laura: Of course

The drive to her house took about twenty minutes. I had rehearsed over and over what I would say to Leena, how I would convince her to come back home with me. How we could move past this.

But when I pulled up to the house, I was disappointed to see only Laura's car in the driveway, Leena's Tahoe nowhere in sight.

When Laura answered the door, she had Addison on her hip, who gave a large, single-toothed smile as soon as she saw me. Any hesitation and anxiety I had melted the very second I laid eyes on my daughter. I hadn't held her in months, and right now, all that mattered was her.

"Hey baby girl!" She reached her little arms out for me, and I scooped her up enthusiastically, planting a long, hard kiss on her cheek. She squealed in excitement. "Ugh, I missed you so much."

I squeezed her into my chest, her hands grabbing at my hair. She smelled so sweet, the baby scent still having a full effect on me. Laura moved to the side to let me in, and Angel ran up, barking in excitement.

"Hey buddy!" I squatted down, still holding Addie, and ran a hand over Angel, who licked me with fervor. "Been taking care of my girls?"

He barked in response.

I stood back up, and gave Laura a smile, not entirely sure where we stood. She returned it, a warm look in her eyes. I felt some relief, knowing I had someone on my side.

"Hey Noah." She gave me a one-armed hug, almost sympathetically, and shut the door behind me.

I walked over to the couch, sitting and letting Addie down. She began walking on wobbly legs toward her toys sprawled across the rug, Angel right behind, always watching.

"She's not here?" I looked up at Laura, who had sat cross-legged across from me on the floor. She just shook her head sadly. "Can I ask where she is?"

She just sighed. "She's asked me not to say. She wants to be alone."

I nodded, not surprised. "I don't know what to do Laura."

She leaned back on her palms, stretching her legs. "I wish I could tell you, hon. But I don't know. She's hurt."

I huffed, frustrated. "I didn't do anything. I was good, I didn't cheat on her, I didn't fuck around."

Laura eyed me, unamused. "Noah, you admitted you thought about sleeping with another woman." She put her hand up, gesturing to me. "Can you say you'd feel different if she did that to you?"

I considered this, realizing I hadn't thought about it that way at all. She had a valid point.

"Fair. I just want the chance to explain that it doesn't matter. I love her, no one else. I don't want anyone else."

Her eyes were so soft. Laura heard me, which I appreciated. Hopefully she could convince Leena of the same.

I spent two hours playing with Addie, and feeding her lunch, before Laura excused herself to the bedroom to take a phone call. I had just cleaned up Addison, and was removing her from the highchair when Laura walked back in, her phone in hand.

"Here, let me change her clothes, you take this." She handed me the cell and I looked down to see the call open, Leena's face on the screen.

I looked at Laura, who just nodded while she turned and took Addison in the next room.

"Hey!" My voice was so jumpy, I cleared my throat to calm it down. "Where are you?"

"I went to a meeting." Her words were stale, no feeling behind them.

"Oh, that's good." I stepped out the back door, pulling it closed behind me. "Are you going to come back? I really need to see you."

Her breath was loud on the other end, slightly ragged. "Noah, I don't want to see you."

What is the feeling when you feel like your skin is going to melt off, but your insides are completely frozen? Is there a name for that? Panic, maybe?

"You don't." It wasn't a question. She didn't respond. "Okay, uh," I kicked at the dirt under my feet. "I don't know what to say to that."

"I don't know if I can do this, Noah."

Shattered? Devastated? There's a fucking name for it.

"What do you mean?" I couldn't bring my words above a whisper, given the wind had been knocked right out of me. She wasn't saying what I thought she was, was she?

"There's always going to be a tour. Time away. Me home with Addie. A girl who throws herself at you. Lots of them."

"Leena-"

"And, it's just too hard, Noah."

Shaking. I was fucking shaking.

"No, babe-"

"I can't do it. Not now. Not with Addie. I thought I could. I really, really did."

"Leena, listen-" I was yelling now, but she just kept talking.

"I love you too much. And I love us. But we can't be us. Because you're a rockstar. And you have a career, and a life."

"I have you! And Addison! I'll quit right fucking now, Mileena! I will call Sumerian right now and tell them I'm out. Forever. I'll ghost write. I'll produce from home. I'll never tour again!" I was desperate. I was begging.

"No, you won't, Noah. You love it. It's your dream. I won't let you."

"I love you! I won't lose you over this! Rachel is nothing! Nothing!"

"It's not just her. How many more Rachels will there be?" I heard her voice cracking. "And I'll be at home, with Addison. We can't go on tour with you. I can't always be there. Noah, I just can't."

"Mileena, I'll do anything. Please."

"Take Addie for the night. Or a couple days. She missed you."

"God damn it Leena, stop and listen to me!"

"We can work out me having her while you're on tour. You can have her when you're home, or we can split the time if it's not a heavy year." She sighed. "We don't need to worry about custody."

"Custody?!" I was full-blown screaming. "Mileena! You're overreacting! Please!"

"I'm sure you think so. But you haven't been where I am. You haven't seen what I have! You haven't been left behind! I was, Noah! And I supported you! Through it all! I happily stayed home with Addison while you chased your dreams, and became the success you are! And when I finally have you back, I hear you almost slept with another woman?! You considered it?!" She stopped abruptly, her words blurring together, sobs shaking her words.

She took a moment to compose, which was fine, because trying to swallow everything she had just said was proving to be more difficult than I expected.

"I'm not going to do this." She paused for only a beat. "Take Addison. Let me know when I can come pick her up. The car seat should still be in your truck."

I couldn't speak, my mind was blank. My brain was flattened.

"Just be gone by six." And the line went dead, the phone beeping, signaling the end of the call.

Oh. That's what this feeling was.

Pain.

#noah sebastian #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens #noah sebastian fic #fanfic

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im-robins-bitch · 4 months

Note

hey, can you maybe write a fic about X (x ray) in you Robin Buckley headcanons?

I thought the idea was rlly different

Thank you for the request, I'm sorry it's a little shorter than I intended. I struggled with writing this, it probably turned out sadder than you wanted.

Give yourself a try (r.b x gn!reader)

Or, Robin is struggling and not letting you help, so you do the only thing you can think of to get her to stop and breathe. (1.1.1k)

Warnings: panic attack, self-hatred on Robin's part, reader lifts their shirt to show off their chest, but no descriptors of their chest, just that they lifted their shirt and Robin liked it. No explicit gendered language to describe the reader.

Robin Buckley feels like a dream wrapped in a bow. It’s a miracle she doesn’t just glide across the floor rather than walk because she feels comparable to the Greek gods you’ve heard about. Aphrodite cannot hold a candle to her. You’re sure any sound from her trumpet would make music from Apollo comparable to a child practising the recorder.

You’ve been hit hard by Cupid's arrow.

Robin is just so perfect… Ok, maybe not perfect.

She’s awful at applying bandaids, so whenever she’s trying to break in new shoes you find plasters all over the house. Fallen from her skin from her dismal application. They trail across the house, leading you straight to her everytime.

She leaves all the kitchen cabinet doors open, which has resulted in you gaining multiple bruises. She’s also really forgetful. Her head is so full, different facts and tasks fluttering around, so sometimes a couple of bits get lost. She started writing things down on her hands, things she didn’t want to forget. Though, at the end of the day they would just be multi-coloured smudges, reminders of fleeting memories.

Still, you would rather peel bandaids off the floor, to find Robin at the end of the trail than have nothing to follow or find at all. Plus you think it’s cute, the small notebook she keeps with her that has important dates written down, things she wanted to talk to you about.

You’re utterly charmed by her idiosyncrasies, her faults, her Robinisms.

When you first began dating Robin, it felt like spinning gold, too good to be true. You simply thought you were the luckiest person in the world to call Robin Buckley your girlfriend. You had your share of bumps in the road, but the two of you toughed it out every time.

You know her like the back of your hand. Know when she needs a hug without her needing to tell you. Know when she needs space, needs to talk, needs to eat.

For the first time in a long while, you find yourself unsure of what she needs.

Robin is rambling like she so often is. Usually, you love it, indulging in her thoughts and opinions like an addict. Today though, she’s spiralling.

It’s like picking at a loose stitch, poking out a jumper, one moment it’s just one little thread, but the more you pull the more it unravels.

“I’m just so sorry you have to put up with me,” she seethes, “I don’t know how you do it,”

Robin is unravelling faster than you can gather her.

Every sentence out of her mouth is a scathing insult against herself. Against her character or her appearance. You wonder if she’s been feeling this way for a while, curse yourself for not noticing sooner.

She’s burning holes in the carpet with how fast she’s walking. She’s circling the kitchen with a velocity you didn’t know she had. Tugging at her hair so hard you think tomorrow you’ll be sweeping up clumps.

You keep trying to butt in, to get her to just stop for a moment and take a breath. To reassess and realise what a treasure she is. It’s just not working. “Rob-”

“Everybody only puts up with me because of Steve and I bet he secretly hates me, yesterday-”

Robin keeps looking at you for guidance but she just won’t stop. She flinched at your outstretched hands and talked over your every rebuttal. She can see herself falling but can’t bring herself to reach out. She doesn’t know how and isn’t sure she deserves it.

You just want to shake her and yell ‘Stop talking about my girlfriend like that!’ Even so, you just can’t catch her. You didn’t realise she was so athletic, she had no enthusiasm for it in school. You think she would have been the school track star given the chance.

She rounds the counter again, hip bumping unkindly into the corner of a cupboard door. You hiss at the contact. Resist the urge to reach out and soothe the stinging with your warm palm and a dozen kisses.

“Honey-”

“You probably hate me too” Robin mutters, choking on an angry sob.

You snap. The next time she rounds the corner, you step into her way, cutting off her pacing. She walks into you, unable to stop herself and stumbles backwards a little. She opens her mouth again, undoubtedly to say something cruel about herself.

Unable to stand it, you do the first thing you can think of to shut her up. You pull up the hem of your shit. Bare chest on full display.

For the first time since you got home, Robin is silent. Her jaw drops cartoonishly, her eyes zoning in on your chest unabashedly.

You take your chance and further invade her space, dropping your shirt back down again. You wrap your arms around her tightly so you can squeeze some sense and love back into her. She tries to return it, but her arms around you are so loose, so unsure, it hurts your heart.

She smells like the valve oil she occasionally uses on her trumpet. The smell clings to her clothes. You untuck her face from your chest. Hands firm on her cheek, thumb rubbing up and down her pink-stained cheeks, soothing away her tears.

“Robin, I adore you more than anyone.” You promise, unable to help yourself when you press a chaste kiss to her lips. “Please never doubt that.”

It cracks her facade, her arms once limp curl around you. She squeezes and clings to you like a lifeline and cries with ferocity into your neck. Her anger is gone and left is the ache of sadness, made worse by her exhaustive anger.

You cradle her against your chest, hand tracing shapes into her back the way you know she likes.

“I-I don’t…” She starts, unable to form a thought coherent enough to be worth saying. She’s still crying heavily, trying to understand the swirl of unpleasant emotions turning her stomach. Her chest is still thumping with anxiety, a tightness constricting her chest that makes it all worse.

Even now, consoled by your confession of love, the leftovers of her extreme emotion remain. She tries to calm herself, but it takes time to adjust when it feels like you have just been stood at the edge of a building.

“It’s okay, my love, cry all you need.” You say breathing steadily. You hold one of her hands to your chest, encouraging her to match her breathing to yours.

She’s tired of crying, of feeling this way. She isn’t ready to talk about it but she knows you need to, she needs to. It won’t be solved overnight, things rarely can be, but talking about it will start the process. You’ll be there to help her, even if you can’t mend it all, you’ll listen.

You’ll talk when she’s ready, but until then, you’re content to hold her in your arms.

masterlist

#robin buckley fanfic #robin buckley fluff #robin buckley blurb #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x you #robin buckley #robin buckley drabble #robin buckley x female reader #robin buckley x gn reader #robin buckley imagine

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twogyuu · 9 months

Text

[1147]

pairing: wonwoo x fem!reader

synopsis: in which wonwoo puts the fate of his million dollar entertainment company in the hands of a struggling author.

genre: idk - not really fluff or angst, implied E2L, entertainment ceo!wonwoo, author!reader

warnings: profanity . . . wonwoo is purposely presented as a prick but he's not actually :3

wc: 628

a/n: i don't know what this is either.

. . . .

“Maybe you were never meant to write stories,” he says, matter-of-factly. He tosses her thin, unfinished manuscript to the side as if it was nothing more than a scrap to be recycled.

She makes a mental note to fire her editor for sharing her work without her permission to some asshole producer, director, or whatever the fuck Wonwoo was, in the corrupt music industry. This has to be some breach of contract.

She frowns, cocking her head in curiosity. A thread of disappointment lacing her tone, though still curious, she asks slowly, “Then what do you think I was meant to do?”

Wonwoo slides over a yellow legal pad and a gold-plated fountain pen. It looked like the good, expensive kind you didn’t lend to just anyone; the kind you use because you’re a prick trying to show off your wealth.

Her eyes flicker up to meet his own, silently asking if he was sure he wants her filthy hands on it.

“Music,” Wonwoo chirps.

“Music?” she repeats.

She sputters, almost laughing in his face in disbelief.

She didn’t know a lick about notes, let alone did she sing or even play an instrument.

He nods only once, but it is firm and sure.

“Lyrics to be more specific,” he explains further, “A sliver of your dream, a fleeting thought, maybe a bitter feeling that’s been lingering for the past few days – I want it.”

“You do realize, I can hardly even finish a short story, right?” she seethes. Her heart races, awaiting for Steve Harvey to pop out from behind the door with clowns and party poppers, shouting that all of this was a joke.

“But isn’t that the beauty of music?” he asks.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“You will.”

She stands from her seat, the back of her knees knocking against the course netting. Her hands grazing along the back of the chairs, she rounds the corner of the conference table and takes hesitant steps towards him.

Wonwoo is nonchalant as ever, simply picking up his pen, clicking the back end, letting the silver piece hover the paper for a moment before scrawling down a few words in his typical chicken-scratch that he deemed as neat.

Wonwoo looks back up, offering a lopsided, wistful smile as he waits for her to read the page.

Blue.

Immediately, her brows furrow and throw him a confused expression.

“What –”

“You have 24 hours,” Wonwoo stands and pulls a laptop from the chair next to him. He slides it over to her, then opting to shove his hands into the pockets of his suit. “The internet, this notepad, and,” he picks up his fountain pen and wags it in front of her, “My lucky pen at your disposal. Write one song, and if I like it, you’re hired.”

“This is fucking insane,” she says a little breathlessly.

He scoffs. “I am, but the best ideas come out from being insane, don’t they?”

Wonwoo adjusts the buttons of his suit and gives her a small bow, quietly excusing himself.

She spins around and shouts after him, “And if I walk out right now?”

“5,000,000 won for your first song,” he explains sternly. He has the gall to add, “I heard rent is due tomorrow and the kitchen faucet in your apartment has been a little leaky too.”

With that, he stalks off, slamming the conference room door behind him. Her eyes track him through the clear floor-to-ceiling glass walls. He paid no mind, walking towards the other end of the floor at a leisurely pace as if he didn’t just leave the fate of his best artist in her mediocre hands.

Jeon Wonwoo is merely going insane to stay sane.

He had a business to run after all.

#wonwoo x reader #wonwoo scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #bruh this was supposed to be a woozi fic but also woozi doesn't resonate asshole ceo energy like this #not that wonwoo is an asshole #but he has the acting skills to act like one #this was all just #written as a stream of consciousness #idk #maybe i'll delete it #the pop star is soonyoung btw lmao #in my flop era so i figured wth why not make him do something insane no one gives a damn anyways hahaha

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saphronethaleph · 5 months

Text

Postgraduate work

“You’re in for it now, fox!” an amplified voice boomed out. “Come out and show yourself!”

Sonic sprang upright, going from asleep to ready-to-fight in moments. “Uh oh. It sounds like Eggman’s out for another fight!”

“Yeah, that’s what it sounds like to me, too!” Tails agreed.

He opened the door to his room, entering the main room where Sonic had been snoozing in front of the TV. “I guess we’d better see what’s going on! Maybe he’s got some evil scheme planned!”

“Evil schemes do seem like his thing!” Sonic agreed. “Let’s get this sorted out!”

“I wonder why he was asking about me, though,” Tails wondered.

Sonic was out of their house first, and he pointed at Eggman’s hovering Egg Calamity. “You’re going down, Eggman! Whatever your evil plan is, I’ll stop it at Sonic speed!”

“Gya ha ha!” Eggman laughed. “You do that, and your friend Mr. Prower will be sorry!”

“What are you threatening, Eggman?” Sonic asked. “You can’t stop me by threatening my friends, I’ll just save them and stop you like every time before!”

“This time, it’s different!” Eggman replied, then his voice got quieter. “Hold on, hold on, I put the script somewhere…”

“It’s there, boss,” a different voice said.

“I knew that!” Eggman griped, as the volume returned to normal. “Ahem! Miles Prower! This is a formal notice from the University of Central City! Your performance will-”

“Oh, I get it!” Tails realized. “Yeah, I should have known that was today!”

He tapped a watch on his wrist, and part of the ground rose up next to the house. It revealed a workshop, twice the size of the house, and a moderately giant robot stomped forwards to stand next to Tails.

“What are you talking about, little buddy?” Sonic asked. “I know this is Eggman so we’re going to beat him, guaranteed, but I usually have a better idea why I’m smacking him around…”

“Oh, please do!” Eggman requested.

“Sorry, Sonic, this is something I have to do myself,” Tails replied, climbing up into the cockpit of his robot, then flicking some switches. Four little mechanical bird robots flew out of hatches on the side, taking up positions to orbit around his main robot, and the whole thing took off as a pair of helicopter blades deployed.

“Aha!” the big man laughed. “Already, you demonstrate your ignorance of the field, Prower! Those airscrew blades might suffice for small distance, short range and low speed applications, but jet engines are far superior!”

“Au contraire!” Tails replied, spooling up the blades. “That’s true for a conventional airscrew, but as you’ll see on page five I’ve developed a novel form of airscrew that retains efficient power transfer up to three times the speed of sound! It’s based on my tails, naturally!”

“Grrrh!” Eggman grumbled. “Well, if that’s the case, then I’m sure you can get out of the way of my Egg Missiles!”

A dozen high-speed missiles flashed out at Tails’s robot, and the robo-flickies darted forwards. Their wings unsheathed to reveal monofilament blades, which diced the projectiles to pieces, and Tails launched his robot upwards in a high-speed jump that avoided the detonating remains of the attack.

Not content with that, Tails slewed his propellers to slide left instead, then right, and finally stopped moving in a hovering position behind Eggman’s Egg Calamity.

“As you can see, the propeller system can more rapidly reverse direction, and provide regenerative braking!” Tails said. “Which is exactly as I outlined on page six!”

“Uh,” Sonic asked, raising his hand.

“You haven’t had the last laugh, Prower!” Eggman seethed, spinning his Egg Calamity through a hundred and eighty degrees. “What about control mechanisms! It would be a shame if you were controlling your defensive drones through something… vulnerable to an electromagnetic pulse!”

The Egg Calamity crackled and fizzed, then detonated a pulse of electricity. Tails’s robot also fired out a pulse of electricity, negating the EMP Eggman had launched, and the flickies flew into a protective position between the two battle machines.

“Phase-inverted pulse protection!” Tails said proudly. “It’s not just an EMP generator built into the Dissertailstion, but it’s also-”

“You called it a what?” Eggman asked.

“Okay, okay, time out!” Sonic demanded. “What’s going on here?”

“He doesn’t know?” Eggman said, sounding baffled.

“Hey, cut him some slack!” Tails replied. “He’s not done much school… right, Sonic? I’m pretty sure I’d have remembered you doing a university course.”

Sonic began to protest, then remembered that both the other people in the conversation were the smartest people on the planet.

“Yeah, if this is a college thing I wouldn’t know,” he replied. “So what is it, then?”

“It’s simple!” Tails said. “I’m trying to get my degree in Advanced Super Technical Robotics, but I failed to anticipate ahead of time that the only other person on the planet able to evaluate my work was Dr. Ivo Robotnik!”

“Robotnik?” Sonic repeated. “Is that his real name?”

He snorted. “Wow. You mean Eggman was a choice?”

“Insolent hedgehog!” Eggman seethed.

“But that still doesn’t explain anything!” Sonic added. “Why did he turn up to fight you, and why can’t I help?”

Tails shrugged. “You can’t get someone else to help with your thesis defence.”

#sonic the hedgehog #miles tails prower #sonic and tails #dr robotnik #dr eggman

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streamafterlaughter · 7 months

Text

Fundamental Differing

Chapter XVIII: I Gave My Life Away

pre warning: tags contain some non specific spoilers

warnings: 18+ MDNI mentions of a suicide attempt, alcoholism, narcotics addiction, depression. Adult content not meant for people under the age of 18. (spoiler for next tag!) Grinding/heavy petting, an inkling of smut. Angst, hurt feelings, heavy subject matter. reminder that this is fiction and i do not condone the actions of my characters! afab!gn!reader, they/them pronouns, rockstar!eddie, use of y/n lol i did not use y/n once!, pet names

a/n: i am… so sorry. that’s all i’ll say for now.

Disclaimer: I do not give permission to have my work reposted on other sites. Reblogs are more than welcome, but please inform me if you find my work elsewhere unless otherwise stated.

—

January 1991

Eddie’s POV

“Eddie? Eddie!” The voice is familiar, but too far away. He can’t see anything beyond a spinning figure, but he feels the harsh slapping on his face before someone drags him by his armpits into the bathtub. “Cmon, man, please.”

Then there’s water, and it’s cold, and Eddie’s trying to move but he can’t, he can only cough and choke as the shower spray gets into his nose and mouth.

“Oh fuck, thank fucking God.” Then there are footsteps, and Eddie’s hauled out of the bathroom on a stretcher, the frantic voice following closely behind.

Present Day

Eddie’s POV

“Ed, they’re looking for you. Two minutes.”

Eddie nods, waving the security off and turning back to her. “You’re still in Ohio, then?”

“Yeah, seems it. Nothing really goin’ on here, though.”

“Isn’t that kind of a good thing?”

She shrugs, her lips pursed. “Guess so, if it means you’re here.”

Eddie chuckles shyly. “Well, I should get moving, or Steve will have my head.

She nods eagerly, wrapping herself tightly around Eddie’s torso, causing him to shift uncomfortably. He hasn’t seen her since before, and he realizes now he’s not that person anymore. It causes his heart to skip with anxious energy.

“See ya.” She sends him a wink, and he waves as she turns on her heel to venture back into the crowd.

The security guard is still there, humming the chorus to Under The Bridge as it plays out of the house speakers, leaning against the wall as he waits for Eddie to finish with the pretty, dainty girl he’s with, and Eddie returns to him like a scolded child. “Alright, let’s go.”

“That your girl?” He asks, making small talk with the rockstar he has likely no interest in.

Eddie shakes his head. “God, no. A friend, maybe. Not even that much, not anymore.”

“Guy like you doesn’t need to dwell on that, man. Sure you got plenty of ladies lined up for a chance with you.”

He snorts, amused by this guy’s casualty. “You’d be surprised.”

The guard escorts Eddie all the way to the stage, where Steve is seething and huffing about, arms crossed tightly over his chest. “Sorry, sorry. Ran into someone.”

Steve’s expression softens slightly at the mention. “Was it-“

“Yeah. But it’s fine, really. Civil, even.”

“Right. In that case, I’m still mad at you,”

“Sure, of course. Can we hold off on my discipline until after the show?”

Steve runs a hand through his hair, breathing deeply as if to prevent himself from taking a swing at Eddie. “Fine. Go.”

Eddie bows his head to thank him, and takes his place next to his bandmates, who’d been left waiting restlessly for their frontman, again. “Hey-“

“Shut up.” Jeff silences him. “Don’t wanna hear it.” And it’s fair. They shouldn’t have to listen to his excuses. He’s supposed to be working on himself, and all he’s managed to do is piss off the people that matter to him most. The house lights dim, and Eddie watches as the crowd grow feral, shoving toward the stage, shaking the metal barricades standing between them and the stage. His heart thumps in his ears, in time with the crowd’s eager chants of “COFFIN, COFFIN,” a command he’s inclined to obey. It drags him forward, led by his band onto the stage to present themselves to a mass of people that want to tear them apart.

The stage lights up with the first chord, and Eddie hears the audience beyond his monitor. He looks back to Gareth, who’s awestruck at the noise, then to Jeff who holds his hand over his chest, genuinely thanking these people for coming. Eddie wants to feel it, too. The warmth these people seem to offer his friends, but he’s somewhere else. He can’t get used to it, like he’s wearing shoes half a size too small. It makes him shift uncomfortably inside his skin, constantly feeling the eyes of thousands on him, relying on him, there for him. It’s then that he realizes he’s sober on stage, for the first time in five years.

He’d stuck to his word, now twenty four hours without consuming a drop of alcohol. He feels his chest tighten, like a hand made of knives has broken open his ribcage to squeeze his heart until it pops. His lungs will fill with his own blood and he’ll choke, he watches as it flashes before him, a panic stricken fantasy but Eddie wouldn’t say unrealistic.

His friends are looking at him. The crowd is calming with their increased confusion; a late start and now a strange, empty pause. He has to fill it. He can’t find you, and he’s taking too long, and it’s starting to confuse his band, so he shouts into the blackness “HELLO, COLUMBUS!” and the room combusts with the release of tension. “I am so sorry we’re late. Thank you for waiting. Let’s burn this fucking place down.” Gareth hits his sticks together, both a warning and a courtesy that there’s no stopping now, and Eddie rides the momentum. He nails every incoming note without thought, and he can feel the vibrations through the building, both of the music and the crowd. He gets the same rush he used to, when he was wide eyed and bushy tailed, younger and in love with the life of a rockstar. For a second, he feels it again, in the same place he’d felt the least alive at this time two years ago.

Your POV

“What the hell!” You stomp up to Steve, screaming over the noise of the stage into his face. “Tell me what the fuck is going on.”

Steve only smirks. “How does it feel, huh? To not have a fucking clue what’s going on? He’ll tell you. I can’t-“

“Blah!” You throw your hands into the air, “I get it, you can’t tell me. Just… who’s the girl?”

Steve’s smile only grows. “Are you jealous?”

You groan, more from exhaustion than embarrassment. “Of course I’m fucking jealous, Steve! Don’t play dumb! Please, don’t make me feel stupid.”

His face falls, and he grabs you by the shoulders, jolting you into focus. “You have nothing to worry about. That I do know.”

It’s not enough, but it’s all you’re gonna get. You can’t help but respect it, the commitment to keeping Eddie’s business to himself. Truth be told, Steve is probably dying to tell you. “It’s that big, huh?” He nods sadly, and you mirror him in understanding. “But he’s going to tell you. He’s gonna tell you everything, and it’s gonna be a lot to digest. So I’ll be here when he tells you.”

“Steve, you’re scaring me.”

He nods. “That’s my intention. You might not get the answers you want, but you’ll get answers.”

You watch the tail end of their set with your brain going in circles. What could Steve possibly mean, the answers you don't want? What answers do you want? Who’s the girl, for starters. But mostly, what happened, in the two years without contact? What made you so angry? You can’t imagine an answer heavy enough to break you, not off the top of your head. Whatever it is, you want it. Even if it’s just to understand Eddie a little more. Even if it means he can’t be with you. Even if it means you have to let him go.

“Thank you!” Eddie shouts after the final note of a song you couldn’t name. “Thanks for comin’ out, Columbus!” The crowd shrieks, ratting your brain inside your head. “And give it up again for DEATH DANCE APPROXIMATELY!” The crowd politely continues cheering, and a small girl next to you sends you a bright smile. “So, so grateful to have them on this whole tour with us, you have no idea.” Eddie laughs bashfully, out of character for him to do while on stage. It’s a small thing, something you shouldn’t have noticed, but of course you did. He’s nervous. You squint, as if it will help you read him better, and it doesn’t. “This is our last song, I wanna hear you all. Loud as you can, alright?” The crowd whoops, and Corroded Coffin start in on Sweetheart, and you almost choke on your tears immediately.

Eddie has always said the closing song is the most important. It’s the one freshest in their mind, the one that will stick with them the most. It has to be perfect. He’d never used Sweetheart as the closer, and it’s obvious Gareth and Jeff weren’t ready for it, probably assuming Eddie skipped it reading the setlist. Eddie’s voice shakes slightly as he sings, but it’s perfect. His eyes stay closed the whole time, and you desperately wish he’d open them, find you in the wings, and sing the words to you again. Like he had, any time you’d asked him to just because you could. You sing along, lose yourself in the lyrics for the first time in years, actually hearing the words meant for you.

And then it’s over, and they’re thanking the crowd and bowing, and walking off stage, and even though you know you’re gonna see it all again night after night, even though you have seen it tens of times already, you miss it. The feeling of a shrieking crowd feeling all of their feelings while you feel yours. The feelings you hope you can give to your own audience. You feel like a teenager seeing their favorite band for the first time, and you’d forgotten how good that felt.

Robin seems to appear from thin air next to you. “Hey!” She semi-shouts over the bustling crowd. “Are you crying?” It’s a question you should absolutely be used to by now. You hadn’t noticed this time, though. “Oh!” You sniff, wiping a tear from your cheek. “Yeah, guess I was. Not sad, though.” Not necessarily true, but for now a nonissue.

“We’re all goin’ out tonight.”

You shake your head. “I’ll catch up.” She frowns at you. “It’s okay! I’ll tell you everything I can after.”

The possibility of a gossip session soothes her curiosity, and she squeezes your arm before continuing to wiggle through the crowd. You follow her backstage, into the massive dressing area backstage, where Eddie sits with his bandmates in a circle of metal fold out chairs, each of them holding a beer. Besides Eddie, who fiddles with the label of his water bottle.

“Right!” Jeff pats Eddie’s knee as he speaks, “We’re goin’ out. celebrating our biggest show to date.”

It’s then that Eddie lifts his eyes and catches you staring. You don’t bother averting yours to the floor, already having been caught red handed. “Do you guys mind if I sit this one out? I uh, have a prior engagement.” The girl, you’re sure. The girl you have nothing to worry about, the girl Eddie knows in the nowhere state of Ohio. You chew on the inside of your lip until you draw blood, anxious and suddenly unsure of everything Steve had tried to warn you about.

“Yeah, man, of course. Come out if you change your mind, though.” With that, Gareth and Jeff exit the room, and your friends follow suit soon after, leaving you and Eddie alone.

Eddie’s POV

Now, I have to do it right now. “Hey,”

You face him, eyes wide with questions he so desperately wants to answer for you. Your hands are clasped tightly together, your knuckles white and arms flexed, jaw clenched. “You wanna get some coffee?”

Your nod is vigorous, and he holds his elbow out for you. You quickly latch onto him, and Eddie feels just how anxious you must be. He can’t imagine where your head’s at, with your nightmares and your constant, irritating habit of caring about him so much. He’s exhausting you, and all he wants now is to let you rest.

Eddie asks a remaining staff member to escort the two of you out the back way, and into the warmth of the summer night. “Is there even somewhere that sells coffee around here? Let alone somewhere that’s open?” You joke, and he chuckles.

“I guess I didn’t think that far ahead. Ah!” He points down the road, to the glowing 7-Eleven sign. “Onward!” You laugh, and it floods through Eddie, like it’s drenching his head in ice water, refreshing him. He’s since dropped his arm, but yours stays locked around him, like if you let go he’d run away. As if he’d ever think to do such a thing.

He breaks the thick silence finally, after several minutes of walking through it. “You uh, said you wanted to talk?”

You look up at him. “I did?”

“Yeah, uh, this morning? We didn’t really get the chance.”

“Oh. Oh, yeah I guess so. I just,” You shake your head, frustrated, “I have questions.”

“Okay,” Eddie shrugs, trying to seem nonchalant. He wants to give you the answers. Finally, he wants to be completely open with you.

“Okay?”

“Yeah, shoot. I’ll answer your questions.”

“Any of them?”

“All of ‘em, sweetheart.” He can’t help it, he loves watching you shy away at the nickname, cute and soft, under all that armor.

Your POV

“Okay…” You have to be careful. One wrong move, and he’s shutting you out again. “Where’d you go tonight?” A subtle way to ask it, you think. Not accusatory, just curious, bordering on nosey.

“I ran into an old friend. From group.” You snap your neck, catching the words he says so casually.

“Group?”

Eddie nods, “NA-slash-AA.”

This is nowhere near where you thought this conversation would go. Every question you’d had crumbles at his answer. “What?”

“I’m more of a casual attendee, lately.” You feel your head fill up with more questions, and you’re drowning. “When did you-“ You’re expecting him to cut you off, but he waits. “When did you start going to meetings?”

Eddie looks to the sky as if to find the answer in the blackness above. “Early into 1991. There was still snow on the ground.”

“What um,” You’re walking the tightrope here, and you heed Steve’s warning. “What made you decide to go?”

Eddie looks at you again, his expression sad. “Had a really, really bad night.”

“What happened?” You ask, too quickly. It’s not fair, and you don’t have any right to know the answer, but Eddie snorts a laugh, like this news isn’t breaking your heart to learn. “Steve saved my life. I’m surprised he hasn’t divulged this story to you, even with the fact that I begged him not to tell anyone. Took me years to even tell the guys. I had gotten so bad, I didn’t care what happened to me. I was drinking myself to sleep every night, wallowing in self pity, barely able to function. I was worse than any time before. Worse than I was when you’d called me that night.”

“What night?”

“You were drunk, you probably don’t remember. Sometime in September of the year before, I’d been up all night trying, and you called me at home.” The memory comes back in a tidal wave. You’d just finished recording your EP, your first cohesive body of work, and with it had been signed to Sub Pop. Things had been looking up for you after cutting things off with him in July, but somewhere far away, Eddie had been drowning.

Before you can say anything, he continues, “Anyway, we were on a kind of hiatus as a band, had been for about a year at this point. I had nothing to get me out of bed before three in the afternoon, nothing to distract me from my pity party. I went out every night, drank until I couldn’t see, and did lines in the bathroom with people I didn’t care to know. I probably slept with six or seven different people a week, sometimes more. I couldn’t stop, because then I’d have to feel my feelings, and I was so afraid of them. One time,” He has the gall to chuckle, “after I got kicked out of a bar in New York for trying to fight the bouncer, I was so wasted and beaten that I fell asleep in my front yard with my pants around my ankles. Really glad I don’t have neighbors.”

It all pours out so easily now, like he’s telling you about his trip to the grocery store. “I uh, only got worse after that.” He stops, and you look up at him, waiting with wide, stinging eyes. “You sure you want me to keep going?” You nod. You don’t want to know, but you have to. As much as you suspect it’s gonna hurt, it means something that he’s finally willing to tell you.

He pushes forward. “On New Year's Eve of ‘91, I mixed whiskey and Steve’s Xanax. Way too much of it. Harrington found me passed out in the bathroom of my hotel room at around 1AM and called an ambulance. I'd written a note and everything.”

He pauses again to let you digest it all, and the silence sends a piercing ring through your ears. The words coming out of his mouth feel so far away, disconnected from the mouth they��re coming from. You’d never known Eddie to give up. Nothing had stopped him before; from finishing high school, from getting out of Hawkins, from being a rockstar. Regardless of how angry, or frustrated, or beaten he'd gotten, Eddie had always bounced back.

He finally pulls you from your thoughts. “That was the worst of it, but it had been a long time coming. When we were,” He gestured lamely to the air, “seeing each other, I was usually either on a run or coming down. I didn’t hide it well, I was almost sure you’d known, or at least suspected something. I was so angry and twitchy all the time. As much as I wanted to, I knew I couldn’t bring you into it, though. I never wanted you to know, and in a lot of ways I still don’t. Actually, please tell me you don’t wanna know. I’ll shut right the fuck up.”

“Nice try, but you underestimate how nosey I am.” He laughs, and you smile despite it all. “When did you start, I guess doing coke?” He doesn’t think about it for long. “Ironically, New Year’s Eve 1990 was the first time. I was a pro at it by May. I'd been drinking heavily for years by then, guess I wanted to jazz it up to ring in the new decade.” He stops walking and pivots to look at you, suddenly eager, and in no way aware of how jarring what he’d just said was. “Do you remember when I would get nosebleeds all the time, or when I’d sneeze and there’d be a giant snot bubble?” You nod, your face contorting with disgust at the memories. You remember a specific time, when you’d been making out with him in his hotel room in Boston, and his nose had just started dripping blood onto your bare chest. He’d gotten so pissed off at himself he’s left without putting his shirt or shoes back on. “Yeah, that had nothing to do with the humidity. Deep down, I think you knew that.”

He’s right, but you can still feel the crack in your heart spiderweb and spread as you hear these suspicions about Eddie confirmed.

“When was the last time?”

“The first or second night of the tour, I think.”

“Are you still drinking?” Dustin’s question makes more sense to you now. You wonder how he’d found out.

Eddie hesitates, as if fighting himself on whether to answer truthfully. “I didn’t today. It’s the first full day I’ve gone in a while. Touring is always difficult, and I’m sure you understand why this time is uh, particularly stressful.”

“Because of me.” Obviously.

“Because I know how badly I’ve hurt you, and because I know I haven’t made it up to you yet. I haven't earned your trust or even your time by any means, and I hate that you’re seeing me like this when you should be enjoying your first full US tour.” He chokes the last words out. You’ve stopped walking again, waiting at a deserted intersection, not yet ready to cross. “I’ve been fucking up recently, which is why I haven’t said anything. It’s not because I don’t want you. I want you so, so much. I just can’t do it yet.”

“Eddie,” You reach for him, and he lets you. You hold his face in your hands, feeling his flushed cheeks warm your palms as you look at him under the streetlights. “You don’t earn things like help and support, Eddie, not from people that-“ You pause. Not now, it’s not fair. “People that care about you. Thank you for telling me, I can’t imagine what you must be feeling; surrounded by triggers at all times, having to see me so much. I never would have agreed to the tour if I’d known—,“

He cuts you off, shaking his head, wafting the scent of his shampoo at you. “Don’t do that, please. This is not your fault, this is my own undoing. You are exempt from blame here.”

“I wish I’d known you were struggling. I wish I could have helped.”

Eddie traps your hands with his own on his face. “I know. I do, too.”

A sob shoves its way through your lips, and you can’t rebuild the dam fast enough. You’re crying, ugly sobbing with snot and mascara painting your face into a sad clown. It may be a cry of relief, having finally understood where your love had gone, so to speak, and seeing a glimpse of him right now. A version of Eddie happy, warm. He smiles at you, a big, beautiful smile, but his eyes are so sad. “I wish I had known to ask. Would have saved us both so much trouble.” Eddie drops his hands to your waist and pulls you closer to him, your coffee quest long forgotten. “I am so sorry.”

“Thank you.” You do not fight it, because there’s so much for him to be sorry for, regardless of if you want the apology. You trust that he means it. “I won’t push you for anything else. But I need you to ask for help, when you need it. I'm not gonna turn you away.” You wrap your arms around his torso, as physical proof of your words. You feel his arms as they surround your head, and he pulls you further into his chest. His breathing deep and even, heart beating soundly, you let yourself inhale him, indulge in his closeness even for a second. You eventually start to pull away, but he catches you, and you crane your head up to look at him, your nose inches away from his. Eddie’s eyes flick to your lips. It’s a fraction of a second, but you notice because you always do. You mimic him, flicking your eyes over his soft, pink lips and back to his deep, sweet brown eyes.

He moves first, but you’re quick to follow, and Eddie catches your lips with his, and you fight the urge to once again burst into tears. The kiss is one you haven’t felt in so long, like sleeping in your own bed after months being crammed inside a van or a two star motel. It’s a deep, yearning type of kiss you hadn’t known you were missing. Eddie moves a hand to cradle your head, like he’s holding the most valuable thing in the world. He’s gentle, almost timid, like the wrong move will ruin everything, break you both into pieces you won’t be able to fit back together. His lips are so soft, with no aggression or anxiety behind them, no nervous, frantic energy like he needs to consume you before you disappear. He takes his time, and you swim in the calm of it all. You rest your hand on his jaw, your finger lightly brushing his ear, the other stuck with your palm against his chest, squished between your bodies.

The last time Eddie kissed you like this was the day before he almost died. Before he cut that stupid sheet rope and tried to be a hero, he’d held you like you were the only thing on earth worth dying for. This time, though, there’s no rush, no impending doom to cut it short. You wonder if you’re pushing it, if this is too much for him, because it’s almost too much for you.

You pull away for a second. “Is this allowed?”

He quirks an eyebrow. “I think I know what you’re asking, but what do you mean?”

“Like, while you’re recovering. Shouldn’t you be more focused on that?”

Eddie shrugs. “Probably. And I will be. But I’m sober right now, at least, and all I can think about is you. And now you know everything, and you still kiss me like I’ve always been worthy of it. Even when I’m still not.”

“Do I really know everything now?” You lace your fingers through his and resume your walk.

He looks at you. “Do you have more questions?”

You have so many, but you’re so tired, so emotionally drained. “What do you think about, when you think about me?”

Eddie snorts a laugh at your question and you hide your face in your free hand. “Nothing good. You’re under my skin, doll. Always have been. Hey, look at that,” you look to where he’s pointing, the bright lights of the 7-Eleven store. “I’m kinda over coffee. You wanna watch a movie? For old time’s sake?” You nod wordlessly as your heart skips about, and he opens the door for you so you can grab some snacks instead.

Another hotel room, with boring white walls and bright white bed sheets. Eddie’s suitcases already sit in the corner, placed there by the hotel staff, complimentary mints on the pillows. Eddie flicks the bedside lamps on before fiddling with the remote, and you immediately realize, you’re once again without your own clothes. “Could I borrow-“ Eddie throws a shirt that lands perfectly draped over your face and you’re overwhelmed with his scent. “Thanks.” You deadpan, removing the fabric. He’s tossed a pair of his shorts onto the bed in front of you as well, and you’re silently grateful, because you wouldn’t have asked for them. He quickly flings his shirt off his head, and you watch as he swaps his jeans for a pair of worn flannel pajama pants.

Eddie then clicks the TV on, searching the channels aimlessly for something to watch before quickly giving up, muting it on a late night talk show. “How are you doing?” He’s already sprawled on the bed, resting his head in his hand to look at you, still in your clothes.

“I’m just digesting, I guess.” You face away from him to pull your sweat soaked shirt over your head and toss it on the floor, feeling his eyes on your bare back. You never wear a bra onstage, but you’re regretting it now. You yank Eddie’s shirt over your head to hide your butt as you yank your tights down, suddenly very aware of the color of your panties: red, and far too lacy for these circumstances. You yank Eddie’s boxers up your legs, and feel decent enough to face him again.

“We have to stop meeting like this.” He blurts as you slide into the space next to him, on top of the covers still.

“What do you mean?”

“After dark, sharing a bed, sharing my clothes,” He gestures to you, dressed head to toe in Eddie Couture. “Someone might see us. People are gonna start getting suspicious.”

“You think they’re not already?” You shift to lay on your side, now looking at him straight on. “We aren’t exactly being discrete as of late.”

He gives you a half shrug. “Does it bother you?”

“Does what bother me?”

“The fans, making assumptions.”

You think about your choice of words. “I thought it would. I think it bothered me more that they weren’t right.”

Eddie cracks a goofy smile, and you swat at him uselessly. “You want to be having a steamy secret affair with the douchebag frontman of Corroded Coffin?” He teases, poking at you.

“Oh, shut up.” There’s no malice in your voice. “You know what I mean. They have it all figured out. We’re together, in love, not ready to share it with the world or whatever. Much less complicated than whatever it is we’re actually doing.”

Eddie considers this for a moment. “Guess that’s true. I don’t think I could explain any of what we’re doing to Steve, let alone the public.”

You sigh. Poor, ignorant Steve. There’s only so much you’d be able to tell him for sure. “He’d have a heart attack.”

“I’ve already spooked him enough for a whole lifetime, I can’t drop this bomb on him too.”

“Let’s not worry about that. We don’t even know what we’re doing.”

“I just know I wanna keep doing it.” The way he says it sends you reeling instantly, drawing you into him, closing the distance between his lips and yours. You melt into him, wrapping your leg around his waist as he grips the flesh of your hip. Your hand slides effortlessly into his hair, tangling around your fingers, pulling a moan from Eddie’s throat as you tug him further into you. You can feel his gentry twitch in his pants, only a few thin layers of fabric separating him from your core. You roll your hips against him, sighing as his tip bumps against your clit, desperate for friction.

Eddie moves, latching his lips onto your throat causing your brain to fog. Your chest heaves as he nips at your skin, marking you, making your head swim with pleasure. You feel his fingers toying with the hem of his t-shirt, his calloused fingers sliding under the fabric to caress your skin, sending chills up and down your whole body. You shiver, and he pulls away. “Wanna stop?”

“Shouldn’t we?”

“That’s not what I asked.”

So you kiss him again, hungrier now. You help him yank his shirt over your head, abandoning it on the floor next to yours. Eddie shifts again, pressing your bare chest against his before breaking the kiss suddenly. “May I, uh,” He stutters like he’s a nervous teenager again, as if he’s seeing his first pair of boobs ever.

“Please.” You sigh, and it propels Eddie on, shifting down the bed until he’s eye level with your chest.

“God, I missed you.” He rasps, and you don’t have time to ask if he’s talking to you or your tits before he runs his tongue over your nipple, pulling a whine from your throat. You feel his other hand slide down your torso, freezing when it reaches the waistband of his boxers. “Sweetheart?”

“Yeah?”

“Would you let me take care of you?”

—

chapter XIX

haha hehe hahahahah ha ha. ha

tag list: @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @wiildflower-xxx @beebeerockknot @champagne-glamour @xxgothwhorexx @therensistance @chonkzombie @brxkenartt @sidthedollface2 @bibieddiesgf @gaysludge @eddiesguitarskills @littlepotatobeansworld @poisonedluv @kellsck @m-chmcl-rmnc

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soulofapatrick · 1 year

Text

Not a One Night Stand - Tommy Miller x Reader

Summary: Your first week in Jackson doesn't go as planned but Tommy is there to protect you and help you forget. Part three of the Instant Attraction series

Words: 1.9k

Warnings: mentions of past attempted SA; male and female receiving smut (consensual)

Y/N’s POV

I’d been given my assignments from Maria the very next day, I’d be taking the route up to the cabin in the mountains with a patrol leader until I was trusted enough to them on my own. It meant that Tommy and I rarely got to see each other, random kissing in passing or a quick ‘hi’ and ‘bye’ as we were on separate schedules. It was driving me insane, having to come home to an empty house and just fall asleep without any interactions.

Daniel - my patrol partner - is nice but he’s too quiet and weird. He tries to be all silent and wise but it doesn’t work. He just seems a little creepy with the way his beady eyes try to undress me when we’re trotting along, those stupid eyes stuck on places on my body that shouldn’t be. It makes me shower and scrub myself clean every time I get home and even then I still feel dirty. I want to swap but I can’t as Maria’s orders are final.

That quickly changes when we come back from a certain patrol, about a week into my patrols, and Daniel is trotting through the gates with definitely a broken wrist and nose as well as a budding black eye that will be very much visible by morning. Maria approaches at the sight of him, stopping short when I come cantering in after him. I’m jumping off of Indiana - my horse - and storming my way towards Daniel and he’s cowering away.

“Now now baby girl,” arms are grabbing me but I’m struggling against them, seething with rage, “What happened?”

“He tried to grope me in the cabin.” I snap and suddenly those arms are gone and Daniel’s out for the count with Tommy standing over him with a fist still raised. Maria finally interjects: telling me and Tommy to go home while ordering others to help get Daniel to the medical bay and she’ll deal with him when she wakes.

I’m ripping off my jacket, hoodie and shirt as soon as Tommy has the door shut, my skin feeling dirty with Daniel’s grabbing hands. It’s as if Tommy understands because suddenly a sense of calm washes over me when familiar hands replace those slimy ones and I’m leaning back against his chest, letting my eyes slip closed.

“Where?” Tommy asks, voice shaking with anger and there’s also a hint of guilt as if he could have done something to protect me. I can protect myself, it took nearly everything in me not to shoot Daniel when he tried his luck. Lucky for him he’s only got broken bones, but I should have done so much worse- “Y/N.”

I take a deep breath, moving Tommy’s hands to my hips and stomach, just above the waistband of my jeans. He inhales sharply, spinning me around and pressing my back to the wall before sinking to his knees. I should feel scared or panicked by Tommy’s actions after Daniel’s attempt but I can’t seem to feel anything but want, trust and love for the black haired man looking up at me with those dark eyes. I caress his cheek lightly and he turns his head to kiss my open palm before he focuses his attention on where Daniel’s hands made contact with my skin.

Sweet kisses replace the stinging sensation on my skin, his hands on my hip and thumbs gently rubbing soothing circles into them. It has me relaxing my weight against the wall, letting my eyes slip shut and I just focus on the way he’s mumbling about never letting anyone lay a finger on me again and singing praises about my body. The calloused pads of his fingers hook under the waistband of my jeans, looking up at me for consent as he darts his tongue out to wet his bottom lip. I just reach down, curling my right hand in his hair, trying not to let the pain show on my face as the split knuckles pull apart again. He sees it though and is grabbing my hand, face softening and he’s rising to his feet again.

“Tommy.”

“After baby girl, after.” He soothes, pressing a chaste and heartfelt kiss to my lips before leading me upstairs to his room. He sits me on the bed before disappearing to the bathroom to get the med kit before he’s sitting next to me again. There’s not much to Tommy’s room but every item in his room screams Tommy. He’s got a few pictures littered around, most in cracked or broken frames-

I’m hissing in pain when the damp cloth covered in disinfectant is dapped against the dried and caked on blood. Tommy soothes me, telling me about his morning and how he and Joel were talking about their childhoods. Apparently both of them wanted to be singers but ended up being contractors. Contractors were people who build all sorts of things and were paid for it. Doesn’t sound too bad of a job.

“There, all done baby girl.”

“Baby girl.” I echo, his face breaking into a breathtaking smile that has me flushing red and eyes going down to my now patched knuckles. He’s moving around, putting things away until suddenly a familiar shirt lands by my feet. It has my head flying up to him standing in front of me in just his jeans. My hands move of their own accord, tracing my fingertips over the multitude of scars covering the softly defined sun-kissed skin. It has him inhaling sharply when my nails lightly drag down from his chest to the waistband of his jeans, taking in every bump and crevice of his abs until my fingers find that happy trail of dark hairs leading south. His chest is rising and falling quickly as I make quick work of unbuckling his belt then unbuttoning his jeans, tugging them down his legs until he’s able to kick them aside.

My eyes are widening at the heavy tent in his boxers because I can already tell he’s huge. I don’t care though, leaning forwards to suck him through the fabric and his head is falling back with a groan and whine of ‘tease’. Not wanting him to change his mind about this I quickly pull his boxers down, swallowing at the way he springs free and oh fuck he’s big. Tommy’s opening his mouth to probably say we don’t have to do this but I will actually scream if he stops now when he’s so close. To shut him up I lean forwards again, giving the weeping head kitten licks and guiding Tommy’s hand to my hair.

Before he can do anything I swallow as much of him down as I can, looking up at him between my lashes as I suck him. He lets out the dirtiest moan I've ever heard, making me groan around his length. My eyes flutter shut when he grips my hair tightly, pulling hard and bucking his hips forwards so he’s hitting the back of my throat. It turns me on even more and in approval I drag my teeth lightly down his length, making his hips jerk and me gag.

I would keep doing this for as long as he keeps letting out those all consuming moans and his hand tugs on my hair but he’s pulling my mouth all too quickly, “Fuck baby girl, you carry on like that and I’m gonna cum,” I try to capture the tip between my lips but he holds my head out of reach, “You make me cum and no sex.”

In this moment in time I don’t care, I just want to watch him come apart because of me and his grip on my hair loosening enough to take him in all at once. It takes a few seconds of teasingly swirling my tongue around the tip before Tommy’s lips are thrusting forwards, causing tears to build behind my eyes from holding back the urge to gag, “Oh fuck baby girl, hollow your cheeks out for me.” He murmurs, other hand coming to cup my jaw, eyes meeting mine and thumb rubbing my cheeks softly as he thrusts. I just do everything in my power not to gag until his dark eyes slide shut, a low moan leaving his lips and his hips stuttering, that bitter liquid hitting the back of my throat and some spilling down the corner of my mouth.

Instead of disappearing into the bathroom like other men I know would he lets me go, growling out lightly for me to get undressed. I comply, almost tripping over myself to get my jeans and underwear off. It has Tommy laughing, kneeling down and helping me before he’s pushing me back on the bed. His hands grip my legs, yanking me forwards until I’m by the edge, my legs spread and completely exposed. His umber eyes flicking up to meet mine before he’s focusing back on my leaking core, delving forwards and licking one strip between my folds with the flat of his tongue. It sends a jolt through me and his arms are wrapping around my thighs to hold me in place when I start to wiggle away as it’s been so long. Every move of Tommy’s tongue is precise and has my back arching off the bed which is soon pressed back down by a broad hand, making me moan even more. My eyes pretty much roll back into my head when a finger circles my crying opening, my hips rolling down to get it to breach but Tommy teases until I’m a begging mess, “Please Tommy.” The finger immediately curls inside on me and I’m suddenly struggling to breathe because oh fuck the pleasure radiating through me. It’s tensing every muscle in my body and my hands in flying to his curly locks, tugging hard as he focuses his attention on the sensitive nub.

“T-tommy,” I whimper and a second finger is added, the pace picking up as my walls start to flutter around the digits. I can feel the pressure building and my toes are curling as my hand tightens in his hair, causing him to moan. The vibrations of the moan is the final straw and suddenly the coil snaps and I’m trying to close my legs with the pleasure that has the corners of my vision whiting out as Tommy continues what he’s doing as I ride out my high. I think I cry out his name but I’m sure, fading in and out of reality until it becomes too much and I’m pulling his head away by his hair. My chest heaving as I finally catch a glimpse of him: his moustache and chin soaked in my juices, pride in those umber eyes and I think I almost come again when he licks the fingers that were just inside me.

I just let myself fall backwards, eyes slipping shut as Tommy bustles about, disappearing from the room then coming back, the door shutting behind him, “Come on baby girl.” He’s nudging me up the bed, pulling the duvet back enough for me to slip under it and sliding in next to me before manhandling me closer to him. He grips my chin, drawing my malleable body up into a lazy and sleep filled kiss before I’m laying my head on his chest, arm around his waist and his around my shoulder.

“Not a one night stand?” I find myself mumbling and his chest rumbles with amusement.

“No fucking way. Not a one night stand.”

-----------

Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four // Part Five

#tommy miller #tommy miller x y/n #Tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x you #Tommy miller smut #Tommy miller fluff #Tommy miller fic #Tommy miller fanfiction #Gabriel luna #the last of us smut #the last of us fluff #the last of us #The Last of Us 2 #the last of us fanfiction #ttlou x reader #tlou smut #tlou fluff

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kazemi-archive · 1 year

Text

One Chance

Pairing: Miya Atsumu x Reader

25 Days of Christmas Day 8

Request: Second Chance: #11 "Actually… I just miss you." Prompts: #27 "No! Stay away from me! Stay back!" #62 "I’m tired and my bed feels so empty without you here." #92 "And now your hand is in mine and I feel like the luckiest person to walk the planet." Wild Card: Using the washing machines next to each other at the laundromat // “I didn’t think you could get any less romantic...”

Word Count: 1.4k Genre: Angst, Fluff

A/N: For 🎶 anon, you’re super sweet bby and I hope you liked this! Also! Here’s a lil bonus prompt for you: #109 "You feel like home." "You smell like a wet dog."

You sighed as you set your laundry basket down on the floor, staring at the machine that read it only had two minutes left. You pursed your lips, cursing yourself slightly for mistiming your trip down here, especially when you should have been cleaning your room. You were spacing out watching the washing machine spin when your attention was caught by the machine next to yours. There was only a minute left on theirs and they seemed to have timed it slightly better than you did. Their movement, however, was halted before they fully reached your eyeline.

“Y/n.” You froze at the sound of your name in that accent, body seizing up. There was no way. No fucking way. “Is that ya?” Of course it had to be here, now. Your washing machine clocked down to one more minute. You glared at it. The boy next to you sighed. “C’mon princess, I know ya heard me.” He reached forward and you felt his hand brush your shoulder.

You snapped quickly, finally turning to the faux blonde and smacking his hand away from you. "No!” You shouted, grateful for the empty laundromat. “You don’t get to call me ‘princess’ anymore.” You seethed, glaring harshly at Atsumu as he jumped back slightly at your outburst, eyes wide. “You stay away from me! Stay back!" You huffed and turned away from him just as your laundry beeped.

You were quick to jerk the door open, rushing to sort through what didn’t belong in the dryer and drop it into your basket. Of all your luck, you had to run into fucking Miya Atsumu in the dorm laundromat. Two months of successful avoidance after you’d broken up with him and you run into him while doing laundry, of all times.

“Please, Y/n.” He mumbled, trying to move his laundry into a dryer while still focusing on you. “I just wan’ talk t’ya.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “Right.” You really did want to act indifferent. “Now you wanna talk?” To act like it didn’t bother you. “Now you don’t wanna leave me alone?” Like you didn’t miss him. He winced at your words, your breakup flashing through both of your minds. You’d made the decision in a flash of white-hot rage. Hurt at him not showing up to the most important dinner you’d ever asked him to. He’d left you alone, embarrassed with your friends because he’d stayed late at practice.

“Y/n, I wan’-” you cut him off again.

“Wanna what?” You puffed your cheeks in irritation for a moment, remembering how he’d showed up, after everyone else had left, outfit messy and short of breath, half-assed apologies on his lips. “Make it up to me?” You mocked, rolling your eyes, the words he’d tried to say in the moment before you’d told him he couldn’t and that you were done. You’d left him right there in front of the restaurant. “Say you’re sorry?”

The look he gave you resembled that of a kicked puppy. But there was something else. Resignment, not the usual cockiness you’d have found there before. "Actually…” He trailed off, clearing his throat and scratching his neck as he glanced off to the side. “I know I can’t ever make up for how I was.” He admitted and your heart clenched. This is why you had avoided him. Used your knowledge of his schedule to know when to avoid the courtyard so you didn’t run into him on his way to classes. You could feel yourself crumbling. “I just miss you." He’d apologized before. Hundreds of unopened and unanswered messages and voicemails of him apologizing, begging. They’d slowed out over a week. Finished after a month. You didn’t think he still cared. That he-

“No.” You muttered, shaking your head as you hit start on your dryer and picked up your basket. It was dark outside and you tucked your jacket tighter to yourself, lifting your hood to protect yourself from the water raining down.

“Y/n, wait!” You rolled hour eyes as you heard him follow you out into the rain.

“Go away, Miya.” You shouted over your shoulder, trying to beeline for your apartment building.

“Y/n, please!” Atusmu called and a glance at him showed him ducked under his jacket as he jogged after you. Right when you reached the bottom of your steps, his hand caught you around the wrist and pulled for you to turn. “Just a minute.”

“What do you want from me, Atsumu?” You exclaimed, trying to keep your tears from surfacing but unsuccessful in doing the same for your other emotions. “Do you wanna hear all about my feelings?” You shouted, yanking your wrist out of his grip and using that hand to shove at his chest. “How I wanted you to show up that night, kept pleading your case to my friends.” You shoved again, not caring that you were both getting soaked. “You wanna hear about how I’m tired and my bed feels so empty without you here.” His eyes widened but you ignored it. “But I don’t want to be your second choice anymore.” You scoffed. “That’s why I left.”

“Yer not.” He mumbled, you could barely hear him over the rain but it made you freeze. No. You couldn’t let him break you that easily. But your mind flashed through the hundreds or texts of his apologies that you had to stop yourself from responding to every time you were tipsy. “Yer my first choice.” His hair was plastered to his forehead by now as he stepped closer to you.

It felt like the freezing air and finally seeing him in front of you was melting your insides. Ironic. “Atsumu stop.” It was a half-hearted request as he stepped closer, looking at you with his eyes soft, vulnerable like he rarely let himself be.

“Yer so important t’me.” His hand came up to your jaw and you squeezed your eyes shut as you fought your urge to lean into his touch. “I jus’ wan’ another chance t’prove it t’ya.”

“‘Tsumu.” You whispered as he stepped closer, looking at you softly.

“Jus’ one more chance.” His hand wound down to grip your own, the one still against his chest, no longer pushing him away. “‘Cause I can’ lose ya ‘gain.” It was like every word melted the walls you’d been trying to use to keep him out, shattering the barriers between you both, reminding you of all the nights you’d told yourself that you’d been too harsh, acted too quickly. “When yer hand is in mine I feel like the luckiest person t’walk the planet."

“‘Tsum, it’s cold out here.” You muttered and finally opened your eyes to look at him again. Despite all the shivering and the clothes starting to cling to your skin you couldn’t help but feel a little warm being this close to him again. “Why don’t you come in and dry off.” You nodded towards your apartment door, starting to ascend the stairs and guiding by his hand to follow. He looked shocked. Like he hadn’t been expecting for you to let him follow you. There was a dopey grin on his face as you both finally stepped inside the small campus-provided apartment. You narrowed your eyes at him skeptically. “What’s that look for?”

You gasped in shock as his arm wound around your waist and jerked you into his chest quickly. You froze for a moment as he buried his head into your shoulder, curling in on you. You let your arms relax around him, finally embracing him and feeling the warmth he radiated penetrate the last of the barriers keeping you from wanting him around. “Ya feel like home.” He mumbled into your shoulder.

A soft smile quirked at your lips, your chest swelling. You chuckled softly. “Yeah, well,” you pushed back slightly so he could see your face again, "you smell like a wet dog."

He winced but laughed anyways, happy to just see you smile at him again. "I didn’t think you could get any less romantic…"

“You should have spare clothes in the bottom drawer.” You whispered, looking away in shame that you were openly admitting to keeping his things.

“Ya still have them?” He asked, shock dancing across his features and you couldn’t help but feel the burning embarrassment rush to your cheeks.

“Of course I did.”

#𓇻 fics

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ultralightpoe · 2 months

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Pinky Promises - Chapter Two

Authors Note: Another Part in the series is up, I am very excited for their story.

Word Count: 8532

x Series Masterlist x

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x Prev Chapter x

October 13th, 1977 - Thursday

“Both of you need to be on your best behavior.” Charlotte Fraser warns, watching as the two children in front of her give each other wide smiles that she knows firsthand will only cause trouble. “You hear me?”

They nod, staring blankly back at her before turning to each other and giving that same smile once more. Before she can call them on it another figure emerges in the kitchen, limping slightly as she laughs at the scene before her.

“Lottie, dear. They are just getting ready for the day. Take it easy on them.” Nana defends, coming to kiss her granddaughter's head lightly. “Are we doing pancakes for the birthday girl then?”

Everyone blinks, and Steve watches as Lottie tries coming up with an answer to her mothers question. But Ollie is quick to beat them too it.

“We already ate breakfast Nana. I wanted you to sleep because you stayed up late making my dress.” She smiles, spinning to show her the work she had done. “Thank you so much by the way.”

Nana blinks, looking at the clock before realizing what time it is and nodding slowly. “Right. I must have overslept. Silly me. Alright. Let me say goodbye at least.”

She kisses Ollie’s head, and then kisses Steves before limping off to find where Wiley ran off to in an effort to flee from his father and school. The second she turns the corner Lottie bends down to fix Ollie’s dress a bit and wipe some of the hair out of her daughter's hair. “You’re such a pretty birthday girl. Let’s get you to school.”

Steve watches in silence as Ollie runs to grab her backpack and Charlotte wipes the tears before everyone is being ushered out the door.

“I have your gift.” He mumbles to Ollie on the way to the car. “I’m giving it to you later.”

“Are you going to have dinner over here tonight?”

“My mom is going out with an old friend so yeah. That and I want to come celebrate your birthday.”

“I know.” She smiles, leaning to hug him. “You’re my best friend.”

“You're my best friend.” He sighs, hugging her back, nerves filling his body.

October 13th, 1983 - Thursday

“I am so irritated with you right now I can’t even begin to describe it.” Cece snaps, her hand slamming into the locker next to the one Via currently stood in front of, shuffling through to find her lighter as her friend went on a rant. “It’s not even worth arguing over.”

“Good because-“

“You know what? I changed my mind. It is worth arguing over because how dare you? How. Dare. You.” The brunette seethes, eyes narrowing as Via’s fingers finally wrap around the lighter and drag it out from the abyss of a locker. “I’ve been your best friend for how many years now?”

“4 I believe. Might be 5.”

“And this is the treatment I get?”

“Okay, let me get this straight. You’re mad at me because I accepted a shift tonight? I need money and Thursday nights are the best since it’s just a bunch of middle schoolers and their parents.” Via mumbles, exhaustion coating her every movement. It had been a rough couple nights, spent unable to sleep and so she crammed herself in that tiny desk and tried drawing or painting until she got tired enough to pass out at the desk until her father woke her up for school. All. Week.

“It’s your birthday, Olivia.” A couple people turn their heads to them at the tone which makes Via panic and shush her.

“Not so loud. Alaska can probably hear you.” They glare at each other for a moment, both unwilling to give up on their stances.

Finally, with a growl of frustration, Cece stomps her heel into the ground. “We should be celebrating tonight Via.”

“I need to work.” Via huffs, rolling her shoulders to release some of the tension that had built up. “Besides, Hartson wasn’t really offering it. It was more of a ‘I need this shift covered so do it’. And so I agreed.”

“He can’t do that. That’s not legal is it? He can’t do that.”

“I’m not sure but it’s already been done so who cares-“ Before she can finish her sentence a body shoves into her, wrapping her in a hug that sends them both careening into the lockers by them.

“Gareth.” It’s a warning enough, but the brown haired boy doesn’t listen to Eddie and continues hugging Via with a big smile.

“You smell like fish.” She scoffs, trying to push him away.

“It’s my new deodorant. I call it sweat.” The fool smiles, lifting his armpit for her to smell which leads to her gasping and pushing him harshly. In their little scuffle they both accidently push into another figure that had been at her locker.

A soft grunt of pain could be heard as Barb dropped the books she was holding, making the group in front of her stop quickly.

“I’m sorry.” Gareth blushes, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as Barb nods, doing her best not to make eye contact.

Relatively Barb and the group before her sat at the same rank on the food chain of this school, barely making it by with Tommy Hagan. And yet their groups sat on opposite sides.

Via and her friends were considered ‘burnouts’ whilst Barb was considered….a ‘goody two shoes’ not that there was anything wrong with that. But it’s safe to say they all normally avoided each other.

“We didn’t mean to do that.” Via confirms, bending down to grab the books for her as the redhead keeps nodding.

“No it was me. I was in the way.” Barb tries a laugh, grabbing the books back from Vias outstretched hand slowly.

“Hey I saw you in the hall the other day while I was ditching. You told the teacher the wrong way when they asked where I went.” Eddie smiles, and Via watches in real time as her cousin does what he does best. Break tension and make people feel comfortable. “That was totally cool. You rock for that.”

Barb's face turns a deep red as she ducks her head a bit, fighting off a smile. “Oh that was nothing.”

“And that top is extremely cute.” Cece smiles, reaching forward to feel one of the ruffles between her fingers. “Have you ever seen Vogue magazine? It’s got a top that looks a lot like this-“

“I just got it from my moms closet if I’m being honest.” Barb admits. “It’s hard finding sweaters that fit me sometimes.”

“Oh here we go.” Eddie rolls his eyes, watching Cece’s face light up with excitement as Gareth groans out when she shoves him out of the way to get closer to Barb.

“I can make you something out of any sweaters you don’t like anymore. I actually think you would look so good in-“ As she starts going on and on Gareth groans again and Eddie reaches out to shove him and give him a death glare as Via shuffles to make her escape.

She normally waits until her free period to sneak out and smoke near the track field, it was the perfect time of day to do so. No student or teacher traffic, she didn’t have to worry about missing class and got the perfect amount of silence to work in her sketchbook. Not that she needed silence, she just liked letting her thoughts run free without anyone near.

She would miss math class, and her dad won’t like that call when he gets it later but she’ll say she wasn’t feeling well and lie about going to the nurse. It was her birthday after all. So she takes a sharp breath in and walks through the halls while patting her jacket to make sure she had everything she needed before taking the side exit out of the school and heading to the weird alley left between the gym building and the main building.

The gravel digs into her legs as she sits on the ground, shuffling around to get comfortable as best she could before dragging out her sketchbook and lighting a cigarette as she begins working.

Via liked to follow her instincts when it came to art, she trusted her imagination more than anything else, and it had never really caused a problem before. If a project wasn’t working then she moved on to the next.

But this one had been killing her, and she had no clue why.

It was a rough sketch, shadowed figures all huddled in the forest. There were four young boys, and Via kept seeing images of her brother flash in her mind as she detailed them out before she finally gave up and focused on the fifth figure but that was the thing that caught her the most.

She couldn’t tell if she had been drawing a boy or a girl, the images flashing in her mind were always hazy and undistinguished and yet it was so clear. The hospital gown that reached their knees, torn a bit on the right. The hair cut short, a sort of buzzcut that reminded her of Eddie back when he was in middle school. The nose was bleeding, but there was something on the wrist that she could never make out. A tattoo of sorts that-

“Are you smoking?!” An angry voice snaps her attention quickly, she had been so involved in the sketch that she didn’t even hear the person exit the gym, a soft curse falling from her lips as panic claims her, making her drop the cigarette to the ground desperate to stomp it out until she sees Steve there with his hands on his hips. “Really, Ollie?!”

“Someone needs to put a bell on you.” She snaps, her skin flush with heat as she tries to glare at him while he shakes his head gently. His face is puckered between amusement and shock, his eyes bright with something that makes Via nervous. “What? You going to run and snitch on me now?”

“First you shoplift-”

“So did you.”

“And now you’re smoking on school property. What? You buy eyeliner and suddenly feel like a bad girl?” His tone is teasing, but Via stays on edge. Teasing probably means his friends were soon to follow and she would become the butt of the joke.

She had to get out of here. Her eyes narrow in on his slow shuffling, like he was trying to move closer without her knowing. His shoulders tense and he is messing with the white towel balled up between his hands as he begins looking everywhere but her.

Without another thought she grabs the handle to her bag, keeping her sketchbook gripped in her hand as she gets ready to jump up and scram.

“Don’t you know those cause cancer?” He asks after an awkward moment of silence passes, laughing a little under his breath. She goes rigid, turning to glare at him rather than her exit.

“So does your hairspray, you don’t hear me raggin on ya.”

“My hairspray does not cause cancer.” He argues, eyes snapping to hers. “It is completely safe to use-”

“That’s such a lie, Harrington.” His face falls slightly at the last name, blinking as he nods. “What? I offend your hair?”

“I just can’t get used to my last name.” He admits, shrugging a bit.

“You’ve had it since you were born.”

“Yeah but you never used it.” And the silence that follows that sentence is deafening, it settles between them like a wall and Steve inhales quickly. “I just figured you would be the most cautious about cancer and-”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She snaps, sitting up quickly as his eyes widen in fear.

“It wasn’t supposed to mean anything-”

“You really want to bring up my nana, you little shit?!”

“I’m a little shit?! You’re a little gremlin!”

“Oh I’m a gremlin now?! Listen here you half baked ken doll, you are the most annoying person on this earth. You walk into a room and your ego sucks out all the air in it!” She stands to be at his height, the sketchpad dropping from her hand.

He’s quick to snatch it up, when she moves to snatch it back he turns his back to her and keeps it away. “If I’m a half baked Ken doll then you're a metal melted barbie.”

“Give it back Harrington.” She seethes, trying to jump over him to grab the book. Doing so she wraps her arms around him and just hangs from his back as he laughs. Dropping the white towel to reach his free hand up to hold her arm there so she doesn’t fall from his back. She reaches out once more, face heating as she catches a whiff of his overly priced cologne.

“Jesus, Ollie…via. This is really good.”

“Yeah, right. Okay.” She rolls her eyes, diving for the book once more. He slips a bit, and they both panic. She wraps her legs around him to stop from falling and he catches himself on the wall.

“Your dad said not to koala me!” He gasps, still gripping her arm to keep her up. “This isn’t fair.”

“Give me the book then!” “No!”

“Yes!” “I just wanna see it!”

“You are such a pain in the ass-”

“Who is the girl?” He asks before gasping for air a bit when her arm tightens around his neck as she begins sliding off. “Ollie-”

The strangled sound of his voice makes her let her legs to, moving to unravel her arms from his neck, too focused on what he said about the sketch to care about grabbing the book back. He keeps a hold on her arm though, and a part of her feels like he just wanted to keep her near him while the other part of her knows he’s getting ready to block her again.

“Girl? What makes you think it’s a girl?”

“The eyebrows? A random feeling? How am I supposed to know? You’re the artist.” He scoffs, keeping a hold on her elbow as he pulls the book closer to himself. “Is that…that’s Wiley right?”

“I…. don’t know.” She blinks, suddenly feeling way too exposed and snatching the book finally. “Just get on with the mocking already-”

“I’m not here to mock you-”

“Here, I’ll even get it started for you. ‘What are you doing in the alley you freak?’ or ‘It’s creepy to draw people you stalker’ or-”

“Can I have a cigarette?” He interrupts her, wiping his palms on his shirt as his eyebrows pinch together, a look of pain passing across his face so fast that she thinks she must have imagined it.

“And then I say something like ‘why don’t you go make out with a mirror you narcissist?’ and-”

“Olivia, can I please have a cigarette? Please?” He tilts his head, holding out a hand as she rolls her own eyes and reaches into her pocket to grab one for him. She freezes halfway through, blinking up at him with suspicion which makes him smile slightly. “I’m not trapping you to snitch.”

“Fine.” She pulls out the box and opens it to him, he is quick to snatch one, their fingers brushing together a bit which makes her pull her hand back quickly with a sneer, the heat from his touch rising up her arm and somehow sending chills down her spine.

“How bout a light?” He asks with it between his lips, hands on his hips as she pulls out her lighter and tries to hand it to him. After a moment of standing there she realizes he won’t grab it so with a huff she flicks it on and leans to light it for him. He shrugs and leans his head forward so she can light it while it’s still between his lips. A cocky smile spreads across his features. . “Remember when we used to talk about stealing our first cigarette from your dad when you hit high school?”

“No. I don’t.”

“Liar.”

“Jackass.” Her words were supposed to piss him off, and she gets aggravated and annoyed when it seems to have the exact opposite reaction and instead drags a smile onto his face.

She didn’t understand why he was even bothering to bring it up, it obviously never happened. Whispering their plans of sharing their first cigarette and first drink had been useless. He had started his freshman year without her and somewhere along the way she had completely been dropped from his life.

Eddie’s warnings from middle school are still right there in her ear as she watches him now.

“I know you both are close but…. He’s not the person you think he is you know? He hurts people. You’re not like that.”

She hadn’t understood then, hadn’t been able to process that her very best friend in the world was a bully. But the second she moved up to the same school as him once more it all made sense. And the betrayal of finding out who he really was hurt like a bitch.

The apologies she had to give Eddie for not believing him tore at her chest.

As if he knows what she is thinking while she stares he awkwardly clears his throat before taking a drag from the cigarette and shuffling to find a spot.

After a few moments he leans against the brick wall, trying to seem relaxed as he smokes while she shuffles to the opposite wall, moving to pick up her bag and toss all her supplies in. The sketch pad is thrown in, and she fights a cringe when the pages bend against the other books but she’s too interested in getting the hell out of here.

“What are you doing today?” He asks after yet another minute of silence, his voice a little cracked, almost as if he was desperate to keep the conversation going before she could escape. Alarm rings through her, waiting for the other shoe to drop and for him to reveal what he actually needed.

“Oh just the usual, plotting your murder and then robbing a bank after school.” She scoffs, trying to fix the hair that had fallen out of her bun when she attacked him earlier. “Any requests? I’m partial to the throwing you down a well idea but I would also be willing to set you on fire.”

“Oh. Interesting. I think I’m gonna go with Plan B.” He smiles, shuffling closer once more and she finds herself trying to find something to say that would piss him off. Anything that might shred his heart the way he shredded hers, but the words get caught on her tongue whenever she thinks of something close. “Seriously, what are the big plans tonight? For Ollie’s birthday extraordinaire?”

There’s a bite to the words, and she tries not to scoff at it, noting the small tinge of jealousy.

“I have work. And I already told you not to call me that. ” She admits, shrugging a bit. Torn between dashing away and or staying near him. Why was it so hard to leave? She hates him.

“You work at the theater, right?”

“Yes? How did you know that?”

“I’ve seen you there. Not in a stalkerish way but like- you work the snack counter. Why are you working on your birthday? That is the biggest sin known to man. Especially in your family.”

“I…..” For a second the words almost tumble out, desperate to finally rant to someone about the situation. For a second it’s not Harrington and Via, rather than Ollie and Stevie and she feels the emotions hit her chest as she breathes in air for what feels like the first time in forever.

She wants to tell him that she hasn’t celebrated her birthday without her Nana before, and explain that her family had no money to do a warm dinner or cake so what was the point of making them feel guilty? It wasn’t worth it anyways considering she wasn’t anything to celebrate over.

For a second she almost slips and admits her sad thoughts to the longest friend she ever had.

But his laughing face appears in her memory next, and she could just about vomit all over the gravel beneath them as it engraves itself there in the forefront of it all.

This was not how it used to be, and she needed to remember that.

It finally made sense why he was out here, he was looking for things to throw at her. Looking to trick her into talking to him so he would have fresh material.

“Why am I wasting time talking to you?” She scoffs. “You’ll just throw it back in my face the first chance you get. Fuck off Harrington.”

She storms off after that, and she should have felt victorious because she got to tell Steve to fuck off. But she didn’t, she only felt lame and hurt.

And the worst part was she knew exactly what to say to hurt him in the way he had hurt her, but she didn’t have the guts to do so.

She was pathetic.

October 13th, 1977

Ollie’s birthday dinner was spent with her family, just as it always was, elbow to elbow as they poured over the meal before them.

Nana, who sat at the head of the table, was recounting her trip at the store earlier to the little ones who had been in school, watching their faces as they listened intently.

“And the damn price of corn went up again. By the time you bunch are grown it’s gonna be damn near 5 dollars for one stock of it.” She grunts out, rolling her eyes gently. “You better become rich.”

“I am!” Wiley yells, raising his hand. “I’m gonna go to space!”

“Ollie is going to be a famous painter.” Stevie smiles, leaning forward. “She’s gonna be in a museum one day.”

“No I’m not!” Ollie laughs, shaking her head at her friend as he turns to her shocked. “They only put the really good ones in those museums. There is no way I make it.”

“They have to! I’ll make them!” Stevie snaps, his face thrown into one of disbelief.

“How are you going to make them?” The adults can do nothing but watch as the two turn to face each other, all aware just how this process goes with them.

“I’ll….. I’ll….. break their kneecaps!” Stevie rushes out, face growing red as Ollie gapes at him.

“You’re going to break their kneecaps to get my work in a museum?” She asks, her face melting into one of giddiness as Steve nods aggressively.

“I’ll break the museum's kneecaps. No question.” He confirms and his best friend shoves forward to hug him tightly. “Who even works at a museum anyways?”

“I have no clue. But they better watch themselves.” Ollie giggles with her arms still wrapped around Steve.

“I pray for them.” Flip mutters, shaking his head at the two kids. “I pray for anyone who bothers you two.”

“Do you believe in god?” Wiley blurts out, fully staring his father down.

“Eat your mashed potatoes, Wye.” Flip grunts, going red in the face himself at his youngest son's attention, flustered.

October 13th, 1983 - Thursday.

Standing outside Hawkins Theater, Steve Harrington shuffled about on his feet awkwardly with his hands in his pockets debating whether he should be here or not.

He knew, deep down, that this was a bad idea. Like pouring gasoline on himself and then lighting a match. And yet he stood there, wanting nothing more than to light the match.

It was an addiction, he was sure of it, having to be near Ollie. One that he had managed to avoid so well, until that night at the Mini Mart gave him a taste again and he found himself looking for her throughout the day.

It made sense, this was his best friend at one point. He used to spend nights at her house and eat with her family. This was the person who taught him to ride a bike and dared him to eat a worm. It’s only natural to miss her….. right?

He messed it up earlier, he moved too fast and asked too many questions. He made her paranoid, and that was on him. This time he would be more careful, ease into the conversation. He would-

Jesus when did Ollie go from his best friend to talking about her like she’s a scared kitten in an alley?

This was a bad idea, he knows this, the sinking feeling in his gut making him turn to walk away. He’d go to the store and get something for dinner and forget all about this. Go back to the way it was, completely ignoring her existence.

But her face flashes in his mind and he finds himself turning right back around and facing the theater. It was her birthday. He missed it last year, an away game for basketball, and even if he was in Hawkins he didn’t know what he would have done for her.

And the year before that had been the year when Cece emerged, the girl hating him through and through. He remembered her narrowed eyes as he carried the painting set to the house, the look of distrust.

He had gotten to watch from the sidelines last year just how close Cece was to Via, a firm layer of annoyance lacing his mind every time he saw them hanging out. Steve liked to blame Cece on Via's new look, the new shorts and dark colors. The chopped and bleached hair. Via looked completely different than what he was used to.

And it wasn’t bad, she was still beautiful, always had been. Even he could admit that as her best friend. But it was a shock to the system seeing her now. The first day of school this year he had kept an eye out for long brown hair and one of Nana's signature creations.

He had not known what to do with the new Via, or how to stop his heart from racing through his chest when she walked by with her middle finger pointed at his group.

But that didn’t matter, he had spent the year avoiding her, and had missed her birthday.

“Come on Harrington. Just get it together.” He mutters to himself, wiping the sweat from his palms down the front of his jacket before hopping on his feet a bit to hype himself up before he finally makes his way to the ticket booth.

“What can I do for you?” The kid sitting in the booth huffs, staring at Steve like he was crazy.

“Oh um. My friend is working. Can I just come in? I don’t really need a ticket.” He explains, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously.

“Can’t get in without a ticket.”

“Okay. Fine. Just a ticket to a movie then.” Steve rushes out, grabbing his wallet and paying for the ticket before he heads into the building and takes a deep breath in.

The smell of buttered popcorn fills the air, the red decorations around mixed with the maroon carpet and warm lighting making everything about this place feel so welcoming. It almost manages to ease all his anxiety as he shuffles to the snack counter, wiping his palms one more time as her voice fills the air.

“Just this today Miles?” She asks, even though she is already grabbing the money like she already knows it will be. The taller figure nods quickly, grabbing his snack and turning to walk away.

He makes quick eye contact with Steve before he whirls around and bends his head in thanks and blurts out a fast. “Thank you Ms. Olivia.”

With that he walks away, back ramrod straight and not making eye contact with anyone as he passes. And while Steve was busy watching him walk away he completely forgot that Ollie could see him.

“What are you doing?” She snaps out and he whirls to meet her eyes quickly, suddenly feeling insane.

“I’m….. here to see a movie.” He lies, stepping forward until his fingers touch the counter. “Obviously.”

She blinks up at him, her lips shut in a thin line. “Then go see your movie.”

“Well I need snacks.” He smiles, pointing behind her at all the snacks displayed on the shelves and the large popcorn display. “What do you recommend?”

“Popcorn.” She keeps her face bland, it makes his chest tighten as he panics for ways to make her smile.

“That guy before me was a little weird, huh?”

“Miles is really nice.” She rushes out, standing to grab a bucket and fill it with popcorn quickly. “He comes every Thursday for that Star Wars movie. And he always says thank you. So leave him alone.”

“Right. Got it.” He rushes out, nodding a little too much as he tries to come off relaxed. “So…. Nice hat.”

Her work uniform was a yellow button up with a red tie, and Steve was a bit frustrated by the fact that she actually managed to make it look good. With bracelets stacked on her arm and black nail polish. But the thing that caught his attention was the birthday hat on her head. Blue with the words ‘happy birthday’ printed all over it but it printed wrong so it mostly said happy with only about 3 birthdays. And there was so much color on the hat that he had to blink to focus.

“My manager gave it to me. Get your jokes out now.” She snaps, slamming the bucket on the counter. “And my ears were cold because they blast the ac so people don’t fall asleep.”

“People fall asleep a lot?”

“More often than not.” She hits the buttons on the register before looking at him with a raised brow. “Anything else?”

“A drink. Please.” Anything to stay here a little longer.

“What are you seeing anyways?” She asks and he struggles to pull the ticket out of his pocket to see.

“The… last Jedi?”

“Oh fun! You should sit by Miles.” She smiles, pointing to the soda machine and waiting for him to answer what he wants.

“Coke please.”

“The theater is almost always empty now. That movie came out in like May and we were packed back then for weeks and now it’s just Miles.” She explains, filling the cup. “He comes every Thursday. He used to come with his brother but I haven’t seen George in a minute. I think he got married and moved to Nebraska.”

Her voice holds a dreamy tone in the end, one that he catches a little too quickly.

“You want to move to Nebraska?”

“Not specifically. I’d like to move one day though.” She snaps the lid on the drink, coming back over to set it down, she’s close enough that he can smell the perfume she wore. It wasn’t too flowery or strong. Just a nice sage smell that had him at ease.

“Why would you want to leave Hawkins?”

“It’s…. Hawkins. Who wouldn’t I?” She laughs, slamming the buttons on the register once more before the total pops up. He pulls the cash from his wallet and sets it down gently.

“I like it here.” He mumbles, shrugging a bit. He always thought she liked it here too.

“It’s different when you’re the king.” She snaps a little, and he registers that wall building back up before his very own eyes. He had to switch the topic.

“Where were you from originally? Denver?”

“Yup. But my parents were from here.”

“I remember. Your mom got accepted into college out there? Right? She studied… history?” And Flip had followed her. From what Steve could remember of their story Flip had graduated a year before Lottie and he got a contracting job here in Hawkins. When Lottie left for Denver he stayed for a bit before he moved out there to be with her. He got a job with a construction company out there and they lived in a small one bedroom apartment when they got pregnant with Ollie.

Lottie had been 18 and in college but the way his mothers friends talk about it makes it sound like she had gotten pregnant in high school. And as a kid he never understood the big issue, and now that he can do basic math he knows that his own mother had gotten pregnant senior year.

She would never admit to that, too busy harping on everyone else.

“She studied history and artifacts.” Ollie answers, seeming to be a little more at ease. “But right now she’s working as a temp in a legal aid office.”

“Really? Wow.” His fingers tap against the counter as excitement courses through him. “How’s Wiley?”

“Good.” That answer comes out clipped and he sees red flags in his vision.

“Right. Well if you could tell him hi-“

“You’re gonna miss your movie.” She mumbles, pushing the popcorn and drink forward. “Wouldn’t want that.”

“Right. The movie….. that I came here to see.” He nods, picking both of the containers up and moving to leave before turning back once more. “They are playing trailers though. I don’t mind missing those. What was that thing you were drawing earlier?”

“I’m not sure. It just kinda…. I don’t know.” She answers truthfully.

“Have you seen those murals all around? Of the famous people?” He asks, leaning against the counter easily. “There was one recently of Marilyn Monroe. It was really cool.”

“Yeah I’ve seen them. My parents keep an eye on the paper for articles about the tagger.” She shrugs, cheeks turning red.

“It’s not tagging though….. technically.”

“Its not?”

“Tagging is like…. Graffiti. The paintings are nothing like graffiti. They are really good. They are murals.” He explains, feeling proud of the fact that he is getting her to smile a bit. Truth was he had studied different art topics all week knowing she would be interested in them. Art was her weakness. “And I think whoever is doing them knows that. They hit popular spots when they are mad, like the store. But most of them are for fun.”

“Who would think spending hours outside in the cold weather painting a wall would be fun?”

“People with something to say. I would if I had any talent. And I know for a fact you would if you knew how to paint faces.” He smiles and her head tilts a bit which makes his heart speed up.

“Who says I can’t paint faces?”

“You always struggled with it growing up. Remember that one you did of…. Oh what was his name? You know with the-“ his hands puff out around his head in attempt to show poofy hair. “With the- damn it. You obsessed over him.”

“Bob ross. And I didn’t obsess I just…. Liked him a little.”

“You drew picture after picture of him. You planned a wedding.” Steve laughs.

“I did not! I planned a proposal. You called me a donkey before I could start planning the wedding.” She huffs, her cheeks bright red. “And yes. I struggle with drawing eyes.”

“Struggle? Struggle?! You can’t do it period. He looked like a lizard. One eye staring at me and the other trying to find the lost treasure of Atlantis.” He laughs, trying to cross his eyes the same way that drawing had.

“Ohhhh you wanna talk about drawing. Let’s talk about-“

“Please don’t bring it up. I already know what you’re going to say.” He huffs.

“The family portrait! The one you drew with nanas colored pencils of all of us. But it was just stick figures, and you overdrew dads and it looked like-“

“I didn’t mean to give your dads stick figure a dick! I didn’t mean to do it!” He laughs, rubbing his eyes as he remembers that drawing. “It wasn’t my intent.”

“And you gave Wiley a unibrow.”

“The kid always had his face scrunched in confusion at the time! It looked like one eyebrow every time I saw him!” He tries to explain. “I’ve never seen a baby more confused.”

“He was always so confused! And so curious! Every time you came over he stared at you like you were some ancient mystery!” She laughs loudly, snorting a bit. “Remember the day you tried making him laugh and got mashed potatoes up your nose?”

“Oh my god! And then when I laughed it hit his face!” Steve cackles, bending over to try and catch his breath.

“You scarred him. I swear. That’s why he’s always so nervous now.”

“Always on the lookout for nose mash now.” He chuckles. “That was your 10th birthday. Right?”

“I think so, Wiley got so mad that he refused to let me blow out the candles.” She remembers with a laugh, before the sound of blasters fills the air. “I think your movie is starting-“

“HARRINGTON!” The voice sounds out from the doors, drawing both their attention to the doors as a couple of the boys from the basketball team show up. “What are you doing here?”

“W-watching a movie.” Steve rushes out.

“Nice man.” Nicky laughs, shoving past him. “Nice hat.”

His tone is sarcastic and the bitter laugh that falls from his lips makes Steve tense.

“Thanks.” Ollie sneers. “What can I get you?”

The next couple minutes pass way too slowly, the snarky comments from the boys as Ollie gets their snacks. He laughs, of course he laughs every time they make a comment because he is a coward. Always has been.

Ollie knew that. And judging by the look she gives him as he is dragged off by his friends he knows she’s remembered why.

All that work he did over the past 30 minutes ruined.

October 13th, 1977 - Thursday

Wiley gets cranky halfway through the dinner and he begins staring at his plate which makes Steve feel bad. He didn’t like when Wiley got upset. He elbows Ollie to get her attention and then leans in to whisper in her ear his plan. She nods with excitement as they both turn back.

Wiley gives them a skeptical look, casting a brief look to Nana then back to them. Steve scoops up a bunch of potatoes in his hand, rubbing it all over his face as Ollie does the same thing, both of them moaning out like zombies.

“Me like potatoesssssss.” Stevie groans.

“Eat brains.” Ollie groans back and Wiley starts laughing which makes the other two start laughing. But it slowly starts turning out of control, all of them laughing a little too hard.

Then it happens, Steve snorts and a bunch of the mashed potatoes fly across the table and hit Wiley in the face. Chaos breaks out quickly.

His face falls quickly, a scream tearing from his mouth as he swipes his face quickly, already crying for their mom.

“I didn’t mean to!” Steve rushes out as Ollie cackles loudly, barely breathing which just makes Wiley cry more. “Ollie!”

“I HATE YOU STEVIE!” Wiley screams, picking up a handful of mashed potatoes from the center bowl, and throwing it right at Steve only for it to hit Ollie.

“Enough!” Lottie yelps when her daughter reaches for the same bowl. “How about some cake?”

“No! I’m gonna kill them!” Wiley yells.

10 minutes later as the family sings happy birthday to Ollie, Wiley keeps leaning over to blow out the candles before Ollie can, which makes Steve laugh. All three of them huddled around the cake and beginning to hit each other as the adults try to keep them all contained.

Ollie leans forward to blow out her candles but when Flip lifts the cake to avoid Wiley’s attempts he accidentally smashes it into her face. Another wave of laughter hits all of them as her face is covered in chocolate.

“Happy birthday Ollie,” Steve mumbles with a mouthful of cake, sliding his gift over to her. She unwraps it quickly, smiling from ear to ear when she sees the pack of colored pencils.

“50 colors?!” She yells out, already standing. “I can’t believe it!”

October 15th, 1983 - Saturday - Wiley

“Are you serious?” Flip asks, blinking slowly at his son from his spot on the couch, trying to glue a chair back together as the sounds of Via slamming things in her room fill the air. “You’re not messing with me are you?”

Wiley can do nothing but blink at his father, feeling nervous and excited in the same moment.

Another thud comes from Via’s room followed by a muffled “FUCK-“

“Olivia! Language!” Flip huffs, shaking his head before setting the remains of the chair down and looking at his son. “Go get your shoes. I’ll get my keys.”

Wiley dashes to go grab a pair of shoes that she shoved in his closet earlier, struggling to put them on because he was moving so quickly as he hears his dad knock on Via’s door.

“Hey Via? I’m running your brother to the store. You need anything?”

“No!” She snaps back, followed by another thud. She had been in a mood since her birthday, had come home and marched straight to her room. Not saying a word to and from school the next day and remaining in her room at every other moment.

Mom said to leave her alone, telling both Wiley and his dad that it was probably girl stuff and it would all be fine.

What Wiley didn’t admit was he snuck into her room yesterday while she ate breakfast and walked to her desk to see that she had drawn a very detailed flower with teeth on the petals and sprawled across the paper she wrote “Fuck Steve Harrington.”

He wasn’t stupid, he knew something happened between them last year, but Wiley would ve the first to admit he missed the older teen and he missed the way things used to be.

“Wiley! Come on let’s go!”

He doesn’t respond, prefers not to, and rushes down the hall to meet his dad at the door with a wide smile. One Flip matches with his own excitement.

“I’m about to drop my boy off to hang out with a friend.” He narrates, huffing a bit. “Can’t believe it.”

Wiley’s eyes narrow at the slight diss hidden in the words, but they were also the truth so he shuffles past his dad to get to the car.

The ride to the Hawkins comic store was long, not because of the actual ride but more so because Wiley was so excited to get there. When his dad parked the truck in front of it he hops out and meets him around the front.

“Okay. I’m gonna head to the general store and grab your ma’s prescription. You good here?”

A nod.

“No talking to strangers. If you need me then come get me okay?” Another nod. Flip smiles, ruffling his hair before nodding his own head in the direction of the door. “Go knock ‘em dead kid.”

And he makes sure Wiley gets in the building before walking down the block to the store, leaving his truck there so Wiley would have somewhere to run just in case.

The bell to shop rings out, causing Wiley’s cheeks to heat as he shuffles inside, looking around at everything within the building. He begins to panic, what if Lucas didn’t show up? What if this was all a joke and -

“Wiley! Hey you came!” Lucas Sinclair smiles, coming around the corner with another smaller figure in tow. “Was that your dad?”

“Y-yes-sss.” Wiley answers, hand coming up to rub his chest as a form of anxiety. He just had to remember to talk slow and breathe. It would be fine.

“Dude he’s tall.” Lucas laughs. “Mike has a tall dad too but he doesn’t ever talk to us. His name is Ted. He’s kind of boring but your dad looks cool. I like his truck. Have you read the new Wolverine? I just found it, we can go find a spot and read it.”

“Are you actually gonna let him speak airhead?” The smaller of the two sneers, her eyebrows pinching together in anger. “Or keep talking over him?”

“I’m f-f-fin-ne.” Wiley smiles, moving forward to take a closer look at the comic in Lucas’ hands.

“My parents made me bring her so she can play Pac man. Which she promised to do once we got here so scram forehead.”

“Whatever Buck teeth.” She snaps back before heading to the pac man game while Wiley and Lucas dash to find a spot to read their comic.

The friendship with Lucas was new. After school a couple days ago Wiley ran into him at the comic book store and at first he avoided him like he usually does. It had taken one bad play date with the wheeler kid to know that he would not belong in their group. They talked fast and often talked over each other. He wouldn’t be able to keep up and he knew that his stutter bothered Wheeler. So he had never gone out of his way to talk to them.

That is until Lucas saw Wiley holding a comic he was looking for and they ended up talking about marvel for a while….. Lucas talked and Wiley tried here and there.

But he slowly realized that when he did choose to talk that Lucas was willing to wait, and he never talked over him to finish the sentence, he just waited.

“I invited Dustin but he’s in a bit of trouble because he threw his bike in front of his garage and his mom nearly ran over it. Do you have a bike?”

“I hav-ve my-my sist-ters old bike.” He explains, shrugging. “S-she spr-spraypaint-Ted it for me.”

“You should ride your bike to school with us! Dustin passes my place and we normally meet at 7:40.”

And just like that Wiley Fraser was making friends, and he barely had to talk.

October 15th, 1983 - Saturday - Steve

It’s not like he planned on wasting the past two days thinking about Olivia Fraser. That’s just what happened, which was embarrassing considering the fact that he spent most of Friday afternoon sitting with Nancy Wheeler at the picnic tables outside after school.

She was cute, in that nerdy notebook way. She made him smile and all things considered she wasn’t the worst he had flirted with, that prize went to the muppet from study hall.

But Nancy Wheeler, as pretty and smart as she was, could not compete with Ollie in his mind. Ever since that interaction at the theater he found that she coated his mind like an oil spill.

Hey, my tire on the car looks flat; suddenly he remembers the year his bike broke and she had to help him limp home.

He needed to study for a history exam, suddenly he thinks back to the time they were doing homework at the table and she realized that she had been misspelling her name for years. Which had led to a full blown meltdown and she decided that she would steal his last name.

Her teacher had sent back all her work with the last name Harrington crossed off on each and every one. And Ollie learned that her name was Fraser and not Frazier.

Over and over and over.

But it got bad when Barb reminded him of Nana. That is what hurt his heart the most.

It was while he and Nancy were packing up after pretending to study and the redhead had come out to take her friend home.

It started off easy with a simple “can we stop by the craft store on the way home?”

And Nancy had simply responded “yeah. I love that place.”

Steve hadn’t even realized the connection, and had been partially listening when Barbs next words made him stop. “Remember that older lady that used to work there? I miss her! She owned the house on Steves street didn’t she?”

And just like that he is seeing Nana, the very last time he saw her. So frail and tired, so ready for the end and yet still so welcoming. Suddenly he is back to being that bloodied up kid who just needed to be near them.

“Yeah I think.” He mumbles, snatching his books. “How am I supposed to know?”

But it clung to him, of course it did. And he was still bothered by it a day later as he pulled into the general store with a bad attitude.

His mom would be home that Wednesday, so he just needed groceries until she got back and he figured the best time to do so would be early afternoon when the store was at its peak so he wasn’t trapped in the silent house all day. Peak hours meant he could browse the aisles without having to worry about being stopped since everyone was in a rush.

That was until he saw Flip with a basket in hand grabbing a box from one of the shelves near him. The man still wore his classic flannel, and his mouth was set into a from as he read on the box while Steve tried to figure out what he should do.

Say hi right? Or had Ollie told him what a dick he had become? He should just walk away and pretend he didn’t even-

“Stevie! How ya’ doing pal?” Flip smiles, coming up to shake his hand. “It’s been way too long, bud.”

“It’s good to see you Mr. Fraser.” He smiles awkwardly, his hand shaky in the hold of Flips.

“Oh? Long enough to go back to the Mr. Fraser then? Or am I just that old now?”

“No no. I just- I don’t know.” Steve laughs, moving out of the way of an older woman passing by. “It’s been awhile. I miss you guys.”

The admission makes his skin heat up, still nervous about it all.

“You need to come by for dinner. We haven’t had you over since we moved.” Flip mumbles, setting his basket down and pulling out a small notepad. Steve recognized it as one of the ones he used to carry around for contracting, so he could write down measurements and such.

Taking the tiny pencil Flip sprawls something across the lines on the paper before ripping it out and handing it to the boy.

“November 2nd we are making dinner for Lotties birthday. You should come over. That’s the address.” The man smiles, patting his back once more before heading to checkout while Steve stares at the paper in his hands with wide eyes.

It was like a golden ticket had just been handed to him, a chance to be near the Fraser’s again and be near Ollie again.

It was obvious he would go for dinner. The only problem was how mad Ollie was going to be when she found out.

{New Chapter out Monday}

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